#guy who harassed me for six months when I wouldn’t date him.

[writeyouin]

Stanley Ipkiss X Reader – Me, Myself, And I

Description: After Stanley uses the Mask to rescue you, he becomes infatuated with you. The problem is that both he and The Mask wish to date you, so Stanley is forced to compete with himself.  

A/N – This is a gift for a user who was very nice on A03 and liked my previous Mask fanfic.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

You sat on a bench, waiting in Edge City Park for Stanley to arrive for your first date there.

The park was the place you loved most in Edge City. It was one of the few beautiful areas, free of the stench of pollution, the noise of the cars, and the masses of people. Usually, you were glad to be there, but waiting alone there in the evening didn’t feel entirely safe and you felt on edge as you wished for Stanley to hurry up so you wouldn’t have to be alone for long. Granted, Stanley wasn’t big or tough, but he was decent and you felt safe around him.

Besides, he’d met you in the park on more than one occasion. While he worked in the city, you were his dogwalker, taking Milo out for a long daytime strut, as well as several other dogs that travelled in your pack. Yet, though Milo was supposed to be working diligently during those hours, his boss would often send him on the coffee run, treating him more like an errand boy than a skilled accountant. So, to get back at his boss, Stanley would often take the scenic route through the park, occasionally running into you, Milo, and whatever other dogs you had on a day.

After months of dancing around your crushes on one another, Stanley had finally gotten up the nerve to ask you out, and you had suggested something casual in the park. Yet, while you loved Stanley’s company, you were cursing his tardiness as the last traces of light left you stranded in the dark, waiting for his arrival.

Each rustle of the leaves made you nervous. Yet, when there was nobody there, you chided yourself for being so afraid to stay out at night. You tried to relax, wondering what was keeping Stanley so long when you saw movement in the corner of your eye.

Your head snapped in that direction and you immediately stood up as a group of thugs headed your way, hooting and hollering at one another. There were six of them, four men and two women, all with mohawks and angry makeup. Fortunately, their attention was on one another and not you so you started walking brusquely away from them, hoping they wouldn’t pay you any heed.

“HEY!” One shouted.

You ignored the guy, hoping that he was yelling at his friends or perhaps someone else… anyone that wasn’t you.

He yelled after you again, and you hurried away faster, hoping to see any normal civilian that you could latch onto, finding safety in numbers.

The group ran up to you, getting in your face, laughing and jeering as they mocked you, asking what a sweet little thing like yourself was doing in their park. You were terrified, not only by the gang, but by the fact that they had made your safe place scary; even if you somehow got out of this unscathed, you knew that the small park would never feel the same as it once did, and you would mourn that loss deeply.

While you were being harassed by the gang, Stanley had been on his way to meet you, red and sweaty because he was late. When he saw you in the distance surrounded by the gang, he hid behind a tree. It was not the move of a coward, but rather of someone desperately trying to formulate a plan to save the person of their dreams.

Stanley peeked out from behind the tree. There were six of them; even with you, those odds were hardly fair, especially when he could see metal chains sticking out of their back pockets, and some knuckle dusters on one of the women.

Upon spotting a snake with green gems for eyes on the back of the punk gang’s jackets, Stanley recognised them as the Emerald Vipers. They often hung around the alleyways near his apartment; to see them this far out likely meant they were expanding their territory, and that was never a good thing.

Well, if these Vipers wanted to see something Emerald, Stanley would provide. He reached into his jacket pocket where his mask hung waiting for him. He hadn’t intended to bring it out with him, but its hold on him was growing stronger every day, and he couldn’t resist it.

After donning the mask, Stanley’s body became a whirlwind and when he stopped moving, he was in armour and holding a hobby horse between his legs.

“A vicious attack by dragons.” He narrated dramatically. “A lone knight to battle them. His noble steed, Patsy. And true love’s kiss to be won. So romantic,” He gushed, clapping his hands to his cheeks in an overexaggerated blush.

He grabbed the hobby horse’s reins “Away Patsy, away!”

With that, The Mask ran to your rescue, a trail of fire igniting the grass as he ran speedily in your direction.

“Stop, you hoodlums!” He ordered, placing himself between you and the gang. “You shall not attack one’s true love, for I shall vanquish-”

You screamed as one of the thugs hit The Mask across the face with a thick metal chain. He fell to the ground and little birds circled his head, though two of the tiny bluebirds left their post to try and pull him up by the shoulder plates.

The Mask shook his head, drew himself to full height, and then looked bemusedly at the thug, “Just like your mama used to hit.”

“What?!”

Before any more questions could be asked, The Mask grabbed his hobby horse, wielding it like a golf club.

“Four!” He cried out as he used it to knock the thug into the air and way off into the distance.

“What the-”

The other gang members were on edge now, and ready for a fight with whatever weird manner of being was in front of them. But the Mask dodged every hit, kick, and punch, except for those which would have hit you had he not absorbed the damage for you. It didn’t matter how many hits he took’; they didn’t seem to affect him. It was like he was made out of rubber since he always seemed to bounce back with a quip or a pun.

After five of the thugs were taken down in various ways, each arguably more hilarious or strange than the last, there was only one left. She tried to run away, but The Mask donned the apparel of a French artist. He painted an exact replica of the park on his easel, including the fleeing Emerald Snake. Then, when it looked like the Snake was almost free, The Mask added a black hole into the painting, and so it was that the final assailant fell into a rabbit hole, and it didn’t look like she would emerge any time soon.

Although you thought the Mask was done and were about to thank him for his heroic rescue, he wore one final costume, becoming a cleaner and sweeping up the downed gang members on a comically large dustpan and brush, before dropping them next to the bin.

“Keep the trash outta the park,” He said with a mocking shake of his head.

“Uh, excuse me,” You said quietly, uncertain of how to get the hyperactive character's attention.

He turned to you with a sly smile, his outfit switching to that of a forlorn poet in slim bay breeches and a white satin poet blouse.

“Oh, my sweetest love, one need not ever fear the dangers this cruel world might bring, for with the rising and setting of the sun, I have vowed to be thine protector in green. What sayest you to this, so that our hearts may meet in gentle kiss?”

“I um-” In truth, you weren’t sure what to say to such an overdramatic character, and since you didn’t know him, he made you more than a little nervous.

“Thank you for saving me,” You said after a minute. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come when you did.”

“But of course. I would have travelled treacherous fjord, swam the deepest ocean, crossed the harshest desert if only to rescue you,” He took a step closer to you with each declaration until he was almost pressed against you.

“With that said,” He grabbed hold of you, dipping you down suddenly, “What say we do like the French and make out?”

“Wha-”

The Mask kissed you, cutting off your annoyed protest. You squirmed against him, kneeing his groin and making him drop you as he squeaked in response, the attack not hurting as much as it would have if he were only Stanley. You scrambled away and took off running. Granted, you would have to explain to Stanley why you had stood him up the next day, but you were sure he would understand once he heard your side of the story.

“W- Wow,” Stanley pretended to be dumbfounded as you explained the events of the previous night over coffee in the small café at the end of your street.

“I know right, it was so weird,” You said, caressing your cup for warmth.  

“So… After this Mask guy rescued you, you didn’t fall for him, or find him cute or anything?”

“What?” You laughed. “Are you mad?”

Stanley shrugged apologetically, a goofy grin playing at his lips, “Oh, you know, masked vigilante, a daring rescue, and he sounds like something of a charmer to boot. I wouldn’t blame you if you had some kind of attraction to him.”

You shook your head smiling, “Call me crazy, but that being straightforward just isn’t my type.”

“Not your type huh, then what uh- What is your type?”

“Hmm… Well, I like someone shy, sweet, he has to like animals, a little goofy… Someone who might just be sitting right in front of me.”

Stanley swallowed nervously. Okay, it was time for the first kiss. He knew that. You were giving him all the signs. The problem was that he’d already had his first kiss with you. Or rather, The Mask had, and while he wanted to kiss you, he was nervous that if he did, you would find that you secretly preferred The Mask.

“Stanley? Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah…” Stanley stood up abruptly. “I- I’ll be right back.”

He strode quickly into the bathroom, his head a mess of thoughts, some his, but some which definitely belonged to someone else… someone green with envy. He hadn’t lied when he said he would be back soon, but when both he and The Mask wanted your attention, he wasn’t sure which version of him would be back.

Stanley was used to competing with other men for women’s attention, but he never thought that he would have to compete with himself.

Like My Work? Buy Me A Ko-Fi @ https://ko-fi.com/writeyouin

#Stanley Ipkiss #stanley ipkiss x reader #the mask #the mask x reader #the mask 1994 #the mask movie #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #me myself and I

[ziracona]

It’s so upsetting when someone you like is friends with someone who not like, you just don’t like—who really cares abt that; at most it’s annoying—but like, someone who fucked up your life, stalked or harassed or really hurt you—that kinda thing. Bc you are very valid for being upset about that; it makes sense. I’d be upset too. But also you can’t control who other people hang out with and it’s creepy to try; the best you can do is be like “This makes me really uncomfortable and here’s why” in a super fucking awkward way while trying to express you’re not trying to like, give them an ultimatum or something, but like even that is only when you’re really close. If you’re not then you just what? Nothing? Drift away intentionally? What’s the solution; never make new friends in the first place???? That’s not good either!! And yet

#it’s not like this happens a lot but it’s weird I’d have three nickles #and it’s annoying because it’s so not personal to person B and to perosn A they don’t even have the fuckin know but to perosn C it’s like. #‘Damn ok. all I have is the knowledge either you have no idea how much they hurt me or you don’t care and all the responsibility for how to #deal with that situation.’ but there’s a 50-50 at least it’s option B at the best of times so does it even matter? #anyway #shoutout to all my friends who were also besties with people who just marginally annoyed me #instead of like the kid who got me harassed for a week over nothing right after I found out I was losing a family member to cancer or the #guy who harassed me for six months when I wouldn’t date him. #personal #it can get so weird too. once it was my best friend and I was like ‘Why do you hang out w X when they’re mean to you too & you know how much #they messed up my life?’ and they went ‘well I don’t like them but I need their password to watch RWBY’ damn ok #apparently your alliegence as a friend isn’t just kinda shitty it’s also cheap #rip to you but if he’d done it to you instead of me I’d have never talked to him again bc I care how my friends are treated

[tobiosmilktea]

hiii can i request tsumu, kenma, oikawa, and kuroo where they’re in a secret relationship and the reader feels like they’re hiding her bc they’re ashamed of her ? like a hurt too comfort type of thing? thank u bb 🥺🥺

- 🍒

secret relationships w/ atsumu, kenma, oikawa, and kuroo

a/n: i have so many angst requests,, yall must like getting hurt 💀 also this wasn’t as angsty as i thought it was gonna be since im going through writers block yet again and i can not handle pain rn (also not proofread, so read with caution lmao)

— m. atsumu

it honestly surprised you at first, the way someone like miya atsumu returning your feelings the moment you told him you liked him near the start of the school year

there wasn’t that instant gratification though, knowing that one of inarizaki’s golden boys still felt out of your reach

despite being in a relationship with you, it wasn’t like anyone knew of it besides osamu and your closest friend

of course you didn’t really mind as you’ve always thought couples who were obnoxious with their relationships 24/7 and constantly making out in the hallways wasn’t your cup of tea either, so you get why atsumu wanted to keep it a secret

besides, with a guy so popular like him, you really just thought he was sparing you from the harassment (not that it would be bad if all the girls crushing on him new)

you get that he was just trying to protect you, and yet the more you thought of it, the more than it was simply just an assumption and you really didn’t know why your relationship was kept secret

it wasn’t like either of you would get backlash in any way, so what was the problem?

you weren’t exactly the type to be the most insecure either

sure, you were aware of the flaws you had, but it wasn’t something you were ashamed of as you learned to get used to it

yet it’s hard to fully love yourself when your boyfriend isn’t even comfortable with the fact that no one knows you two are even together

you hated jumping to conclusions, but you couldn’t help but to think the worst case scenario—was he ashamed of being with you?

you honestly thought the idea was impossible

if he was seriously ashamed of the thought of being with you in public, why would he even waste all those months dating? were all those dates and nights sneaking out to see each other for nothing?

it was like this for weeks with the way your own thoughts sabotaged you as you stood next to him during lunch

in moments like this in school, surrounded by your classmates and acquaintances, you and atsumu were only friends who sat next to each other occasionally and shared conversations that only friends would have

only friends

god, you hated the way that atsumu wouldn’t even look at you the way that he would when you two are alone

was he that embarrassed to be with you?

you didn’t want six months of all your hard work and effort of making time to be with him for nothing,, you had to do something about it

everyday, you, atsumu, and osamu would walk to school together with osamu typically walking ahead of you and your boyfriend

most couples would hold hands as they walked together, but atsumu had made it explicitly clear as the closer they get to school the farther they had to be from each other to avoid suspicions

thinking of it now, it sounded wrong to begin with and you had no idea why you even agreed to do such a thing

the school was close, maybe a block away and instead of slowing down your pace to create a gap between you and atsumu, you stubbornly stayed next to him to which he flickered you a weird look

he shrugged it off but the moment you two passed the gates and into campus, you slipped your hand into his

without missing a single beat atsumu immediately pulled his hand away from you with a look on his face that held all the questions running through his head at that very moment

“what are you doing?” he asks, almost in a harsh whisper

a frown melted upon your expression at how quickly he pulled away, almost as if he was disgusted by you. “i um, didn’t know you hated the thought of people seeing us together so badly.”

you didn’t know where all your strength went as it disappeared the moment you needed it the most

yet as you were about to walk away, atsumu tugs at your wrist lightly and pulls you into his embrace—his warmth and comforting scent of chamomile from  saved you from the embarrassment that was tainting your cheeks red

“no, no it’s not that,” he mutters, lips tickling your forehead. “i just wanted to keep you to myself a bit longer.”

— k. kenma

you honestly weren’t surprised at the fact that kenma wanted this relationship to be kept secret

he never seemed like the type to be in a relationship let alone get the attention of being in one in the first place, yet it irked you to the core

it was fine at first; acting like you two were just friends while at school or at volleyball practice and it wasn’t at all weird or out of the ordinary

maybe that’s why you were okay with it in the first few months of your relationship with kenma as you were always near him the majority of the time

yet you constantly had to fight the urge to not be so touchy with him from wanting to hold his hand to leaning your head onto his shoulder—you often had to stop yourself especially in front of your friends and his teammates

you were good at keep secrets, but it was absolute hell not being able to even tell kuroo considering you always hung out with him too (it was a given obviously but you digress)

kuroo is a bit curious in his closest friend’s antics so his constant teases of how you and kenma would be such a cute couple annoyed you to your core

he laughs as if you and kenma being together would be absolutely impossible and wouldn’t happen in a million years, and yet here you two were, pretending to laugh at his jokes and agreeing and it would be, in fact, impossible

as mentioned before, you’re more annoyed at keeping your relationship secret rather than angry

your actions were more abrupt and cold rather than your usual warm self and kenma definitely noticed

despite his usual calm and collected expression that he has on a daily basis, it covered up his own emotions of blatant insecurity and worry that you were losing your feelings and losing them quick

the last thing kenma wanted was for everything that happened between the two of you to be wasted over his own fear of being judged for being with you

you were his first in everything and he certainly wasn’t going to let you become his first heartbreak either

he worried about this for a few days, overthinking while he played video games with kuroo, lev, and yaku that they noticed how quiet he was being over the call

it was then did he impulsively asked kuroo to go on a separate voice channel with him just so he could blurt out, “i’m dating (y/n).”

and to his surprise, all his best friend said was: “yeah, i know. (y/n) told me.”

“what? why?” kenma asked with confusion evident on his visage

“she had no one else to go to vent.” kuroo answers, his amused laugh echoing through kenma’s headphones. “don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone.”

“thanks, but... i think (y/n)’s angry at me and i don’t know what to do.”

“she told me that she was getting tired of keeping your relationship a secret. she asked me if you felt embarrassed or even ashamed of being with her.” he explained.

confusion and a bit of worry washed over kenma as his words suddenly faltered, “i could never be ashamed of being with her,”

“then i guess, you should tell her that.”

“what should i do?”

his best friend lets on a smirk (not that kenma could even see it, anyway), “i’m so glad you asked.”

you weren’t exactly sure what you expecting to be honest

you knew there was something going on between kenma and kuroo as if they were planning something intricate, but you weren’t bothered to even ask

perhaps you were still in that petty mindset of giving kenma the cold shoulder after having to keep your relationship on hold all the time that stopped your curiosity

sure, it was a bit childish, but you were planning on talking about it with kenma the moment he came back into the classroom after going off somewhere with kuroo

which by the way, where the hell were they? lunch was ending soon and you needed to talk to you boyfriend asap

the timing was almost perfect the way the thought of him entered your mind was at the same time as his familiar blonde hair walked back into the classroom with a melon bun and a canned drink in his hand from the vending machine—your favorites

“i noticed you didn’t eat lunch, so i bought you this.” he says, placing them down onto your desk.

“is this supposed to be your way of apologizing to me or something?” you mused at him.

there was a faint smile on kenma’s face when you did. this was your usual self, one that constantly smiled at him rather than deadpanned and cold. “no,” he simple put it. taking in a breath of confidence before pressing his lips on the corner of yours. “but i was hoping that would.”

with wide eyes, your eyes scanned the room to see if anyone noticed, afraid at the fact that you broke the first rule. despite being a blushing mess from a minuscule peck on your cheek, there was an inkling of confusion still evident within you, “why did you do that?”

“kuroo told me everything.”

“i knew that guy couldn’t keep a secret,” you mutter as you tried to ignore that infamous feeling of butterflies in the pit of your stomach. “i don’t think people saw, so they won’t think we’re together—”

“what if i wanted people to know we’re together?” ded asf

— o. tooru

you honestly should’ve known oikawa was going to keep this relationship between the two of you a secret since the moment he confessed his feelings to you

what else could you have expected from aoba johsai’s most popular boy wonder with an actual fanclub full of naive girls

perhaps you’ve become naive yourself considering you dealt with months of having your relationship constantly being swept under the rug, psyching yourself out that he was doing this for your sake

and you understood that

it was the reason why you even agreed to keep your relationship on the downlow considering how annoyingly notorious oikawa’s fangirls were, they wouldn’t have let you see the light of day if they were to find out

if you were in fact being honest, there was a period in time near the beginning of the relationship how cautious you were being—barely talking to oikawa unless it had to do with school, avoiding his gazes during class, and even swallowing your pride by just watching his fangirls flirt with him and there was nothing you could do about it

you honestly had to give yourself a pat on the bat for dealing with six months of this treatment

you figured it wouldn’t be that bad, especially after schools where you and oikawa could finally have alone time to yourselves, but even those times alone with him there was a lingering feeling of tension and unease

the thought of someone from school even finding out of you two being  together even affected your relationship outside of school hours

you were tired of waiting outside the school gates for hours just for him to come out of volleyball practice and apologize that he couldn’t walk you home yet again

you figured that oikawa had grown far to used to seeing you waiting for him all the time that it was practically common sense that he was going to reject you again and again

you had to stop waiting for him at some point, but there was an inkling inside that for once, just for once, he would look at you with a smile so sweet that he would finally go with you

but not once has it happened

was he really that afraid of people finding out of his relationship with you that he’s willing to disregard all your hard work to even make this thing (whatever is was) to even happen?

if you were truly being honest with yourself, the only reason why this relationship is still up and active for this long is all because of you

you’re the one always asking him when he’s available during the weekends so you two could finally see each other, you’re the one always texting him first, you’re the one always being the most understanding of the situation

and yet it’s almost like oikawa isn’t even batting an eye at how difficult it has been for you

you absolutely hated jumping to conclusions and thinking of the worst case scenario and yet here you were, suddenly drowning at the possibility that the only reason why oikawa wanted a secret relationship was because he was ashamed to be with you

it was a thought that kept you up at night, tainting your optimistic thoughts of hope that this relationship would actually work out to decimate into thin air

the more is simmered in your head, the worse it became—what if his feelings that he confessed to you was a lie?

you hated overthinking

but if you really thought about it, even before you and oikawa dated, neither of you two were close. just two acquaintances in the same class that occasionally shared answers with each other just by the convenience of sitting nearby

you even went as far as believing that him dating you was just a joke, that this whole goddamn relationship was just some mindless prank just because he was bored

six months of wasted time. you were over it

the next day at school, you didn’t even look at him, you didn’t smile or even acknowledge the way he said good morning to you (as a friend does)

you figured he’s probably too dense to even notice, but he did. the usual glow you had each morning when you said good morning back to him was gone

he already missed the way your gazes would meet and how he would constantly find himself lost in your irises, but now you couldn’t even look at him in the eye

the only person who’s aware that you and oikawa were dating was iwaizumi. it was a given as who else would oikawa ramble on and on and on about how pretty you looked or how smart you are if it wasn’t his best friend?

if anything, iwa was the only guy oikawa could complain about how you were ignoring him

“maybe she’s bored of you for once,” iwaizumi cuts straight to the point. there was really no point in beating around the bush

offense was written all over oikawa’s face, utterly surprised, “how could she?”

“you can’t keep your relationship with her a secret forever, you know.” his best friend goes on to explain, “with the way things are going with you two acting like you’re nothing but acquaintances, (y/n)’s bound to lose her feelings.”

“but i don’t want her to lose feelings for me! and it’s not like i can suddenly tell all my fangirls that i’m dating someone, they’ll freak!” whines oikawa.

“why do you care about your fangirls’ feelings more than your own girlfriend? seems to me, it doesn’t even look like you care about (y/n) at all the way she’s constantly waiting for you after practice only to be rejected.”

it’s obvious iwaizumi wasn’t here to sugarcoat

“i just don’t want them to harass (y/n)...” oikawa reasons, trying to ignore the way his heart drop at iwa’s words like a gripping poison

“then that’s your job to tell those girls to back off.” he suggests, “they literally treat you like a god, surely they’ll listen if you tell them to leave her alone.”

the following day, you came across oikawa waiting outside your door, dressed in his uniform with his gaze lingering about to occupying his attention

“what are you doing here?” you ask him as you close your front door behind you. he’s probably here to break up with you, you thought to yourself

you had to force yourself to ignore the way your heart dropped at your own self-destructive thoughts

taking a deep breath as you approached him, you readied yourself for harsh news to come your way

but it never did

instead, you were greeted by oikawa’s infamous smile that made everyone at school to fall in love with this guy (including you)

he takes your hand into his, intertwining his calloused fingers that dwarfed yours in size. you don’t remember the last time you held oikawa’s hand, but it felt so familiar and warm

it was like home

you couldn’t help but feeling the ends of your lips tugging into a smile as you looked up at him, “what if someone at school sees us?”

you were expecting some kind of excuse, but all he did was shrug. “who cares?”

— k. tetsurou

when you and kuroo started going out, you certainly wasn’t expecting it to be like this

if anything, ‘going out’ would be a stretch if you count late night dates and sneaking out at midnight just to see each other as dating

it certainly wasn’t your usual definition of dating either as you yearned greatly to be able to do normal couple things with your boyfriend—like actually going out on dates during the day, eating lunch together, hell, even just holding hands!

it almost seemed laughable how normal things done in relationships were something you never even experienced with kuroo even after a few months of being together all due to him wanting to keep the relationship a secret

and if you were truly being honest with yourself, you never really understood why he wanted to keep it on the downlow in the first place

you never really questioned it as you just that much of an understanding person, but at a certain point it just wasn’t adding up

it wasn’t like he had girls going after him 24/7 despite being at the top of his class, popular, and nekoma’s volleyball captain

it wasn’t like oikawa who had an actual problem with hoards of girls surrounding him and tracking his ever move, so what was the big deal of letting your relationship public?

it was then did it hit you

the suddenly downpour of insecurity within your own loving boyfriend that you trust so much was getting the best of you

“what if he’s embarrassed to even be with me?” you contemplated in a harsh whisper to your best friend

it was in the middle of lunch and you two were sitting alone on a bench in the school’s courtyard chatting while eating—well, more like overthinking in your case while you friend just sat there and nodded

“if he actually felt that way, then he would’ve broken up with you already.” your friend stated in between bites, “besides, if i didn’t have feelings for someone, i wouldn’t put in the effort to sneak out just to see them.”

you hummed, not sure what to say as she did have a point

but could you really blame yourself for wanting an actual relationship rather than one that’s forced to go unnoticed?

“i should talk to kuroo about it...” you sigh out.

“talk to me about what?” an oh-so-familiar voice calls out to you and your friend

kuroo’s figure approaches the two of you as he give you a curt smile with hidden meanings that you weren’t able to even notice. you were too caught up in your own meddling thoughts that you also didn’t notice the way kuroo frowned slightly at the way you avoided eye contact with him

“nothing,” was all you said before standing up and throwing your trash away. “lunch is almost over so we should all get to class.” was all you said before briskly walking away

kuroo’s brows furrow in confusion as he looks over to your friend, “what’s up with (y/n)?”

“she thinks you’re too embarrassed to be with her, that’s why you hide your relationship.” she cuts straight to the point (homegirl just wants to eat her lunch in peace ffs)

“what?” your boyfriend huffs out in shock, almost offended at the fact that you out of all people would believe such a thing. “why does she think that?”

your friends shrugs, “not sure. that’s something you should be asking her, but if it were me, i would want a normal relationship as well.”

kuroo doesn’t say another word before walking away. and yet his walk quickened so he could catch up to you before you could get to class, footsteps echoing through the hallway in patters as he sees your familiar figure near your classroom 

“(y/n)!” he calls out to you as you slide the classroom’s door open. it was sure to catch the attention of the rest of the students already in the classroom as you turn towards him, brows furrowed in the same confusion

as he neared you, there was almost no sign in him stopping, sending your heart beating in a frenzy as you parted your lips to tell him to slow down

but before a single syllable could even fall from your lips, your boyfriend’s own pair press against yours harshly. it was sweet like caramel and you swore everything moved in a slow motion when you suddenly realized where you two were

he stole your breath away when he pulled apart from you, eyes immediately scanning the room of his own classmates staring at him in awe

“since when were you two dating?” matsukawa asked rather loudly, it seemed that others were interested in knowing as well.

panic suddenly coursed through you as you gave kuroo a look, gravely ignoring the way yoru heart was thumping against your chest and the dozens of unanswered questions running through your head

“w-we’re not actually dati—”

“we’ve been together for a few months actually.” kuroo cuts you off, sending you a wink before entering the classroom

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #atsumu headcanons #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma angst #kenma headcanons #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa angst #oikawa headcanons #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo angst #kuroo headcanons

[featherymalignancy]

How About a Hug, Hm? REMIX

So a few days ago I got this ask about my Elriel one-shot “How About A Hug?” because I messed up the formatting and I you basically have to to read it as a reblog. I also was really unsatisfied with the end result.

So, I did the most Feathery™️ thing every and REWROTE THE WHOLE GODDAMN THING.

Please enjoy, and know that I will go back and tag people/clean up formatting tomorrow. Right now I just need to post and 😴

——————————————————

Elain Archeron was running late.

Granted, it was only by seven minutes, which—in many social circles—was still considered well within the accepted boundaries of punctuality.

The problem was that a) being late made Elain anxious, and b) there was absolutely nothing polite about Nesta Archeron when she was made to wait, even by her own kin.

Yet another reason it had been critical that Elain arrive on time: Nesta was already likely to be somewhat hacked off when she saw what Elain was wearing tonight, and Elain had hoped to avoid any further dramatics on her elder sister’s part.

She spent half the cab ride downtown trying to convince herself that it was fine that she’d borrowed something out of Nesta’s closet (even if it had been without permission) and that she hadn’t had a choice; she simply didn’t own anything appropriate for dinner at a four-star restaurant. However, by the time the cab slithered under Trump Tower’s unsavory shadow and into Hell’s Kitchen, she’d given up pretending.

The truth was she had half a dozen cocktail dresses that would have been perfectly suitable for dinner in the West Village, even if the place they were going was one of the nicest sushi restaurants in the city. No, Elain had raided Nesta’s closet for a far more embarrassing reason: she’d been in search of a dress she hoped might finally win her Azriel’s attention.

She wasn’t proud of the absurd crush she had on the guy, but it really couldn’t be helped. He was gorgeous, and smart, and darkly funny when he wanted to be, and she’d been secretly mooning over him since they’d met through Feyre’s fiancée three years ago. God, what she wouldn’t give to have him return even a fraction of her feelings.

Apparently not her dignity, Elain thought with a glance down at her neckline.

The worst part was that Azriel seemed oblivious to her interest in him. He was always polite to her, always made a point to talk to her when he caught her hiding out on the balcony during one of Feyre and Rhys’s crazy parties or sit next to her at their big family dinners, but he’d never once given her any indication that he was in any way that he reciprocated her feelings, which should have been reason enough for Elain to pack it in and stop harassing him.

And that was to say nothing of Mor.

Mor was the friend who’d first introduced Feyre and Rhys, and from what Elain could gather, she and Azriel had a long and complicated history. It didn’t seem to matter that Mor had been dating the same girl for over a year now. When she was in the room, Az’s eyes were always on her. Not that Elain blamed him—Mor was gorgeous in a way girls like her could only dream of being. Still, there was no denying the sting of watching the guy you were interested in pine over someone else.

Given all this, Elain wasn’t really sure why she’d gone to such lengths to dress up for this dinner. Mor would surely be there wearing something incredible and couture, thereby rendering everyone else invisible to Azriel. Still, Elain was a hopeless optimist, and she’d stubbornly sold herself on the idea that if she found the perfect dress, she could finally convince Azriel that she was a woman worthy of affection, rather than Nesta’s bookish, boring little sister.

She had to admit, there was nothing bookish about her tonight. The dress was tighter on her that it was her waifish sister, and dear god it deserved a Medal of Honor for the way it managed to keep her boobs looking so perky even without a bra. She didn’t suppose Nesta would be too happy about that bit, either, so she could only hope her sister was in a good mood by the time Elain arrived.

Just then Elain’s phone buzzed, and she looked down at it and groaned. It was from Nesta.

Where the 🤬 are you?

Running late, Elain quickly typed back. Is everyone waiting?

She watched the gray ellipsis pulse at Nesta responded.

Feyre and Rhys aren’t even fucking here yet. But hurry up, Cash is already driving me insane.

Elain rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure who Nesta thought she was fooling when she and Elain shared a bedroom wall. Nesta and Cassian, Rhys’s other best friend, ended up banging almost every time they saw each other, which—since Rhys and Feyre had gotten engaged four months ago—was fairly frequently. In fact, Cash was at their apartment making Nesta scream so often that Elain had been forced to invest in earplugs and a sound machine. From Elain’s perspective, it seemed rather pointless of Nesta to pretend she wasn’t completely hot of a guy she called “Daddy” in bed.

Elain shuddered at the thought, hoping that Nesta would end up going to Cash and Az’s loft in Williamsburg tonight instead. Though, she realized glumly, they only ever seemed to go there when Azriel was out, and the only person who seemed able to keep Azriel out later than Cash was Mor. That meant Elain’s options were either to pop an Ambien and hope for the best, or stay out and watch Az make moon eyes at Mor all night. Neither one was particularly appearing.

Elain ignored Nesta’s text as the car pulled up outside the restaurant and she wiggled out, smoothing the back of her tight dress before giving her curls what she hoped was an artful tousle before slipping inside.

Elain’s heart felt into her stomach as she took in the elegant but understated interior of the famed Sushi Nakazawa. Given the prices, she’d assumed the place would be all black granite and swanky chandeliers—the kind of place cleavage like hers wouldn’t seem out of place. Instead the place was elegantly spare and distressingly well-lit. God, she was such a prize idiot.

Unfortunately, she was also out of time, because a quick survey of the interior found that her group was already gathered at the bar, Mor, Feyre, and Rhys having showed up in the interim between Nesta’s text and Elain’s arrival.

Elain’s eyes went to Mor first, who stunned in a cardinal red lace and net sheath. It clung to her frame like it had been made for her, and despite a latent jealous she couldn’t quite contain, she was relieved to find that she at least wouldn’t look overdressed.

Elain’s stomach only wended in a tighter knot when Mor’s eyes fell on her and lit up, a reminder that not only was Mor prettier, she was also an infinitely better person than Elain.

“There she is!” Mor beamed, coming forward and hugging Elain. “I love that dress, Ellie!”

Elain braced herself for Nesta’s inevitably remark, but it was actually Cash who reacted first.

He’d opened his mouth to comment seemingly before he’d actually looked at Elain, because the second he realized what exactly she was wearing, his eyes they snapped the ceiling, as if looking at her chest directly might turn him to stone.

“Whoa, El, all dressed up tonight!”

Nesta, wholly unmoved by his attempted chivalry, elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don’t be vulgar Cassian!” She snarled before narrowing her eyes. “And that’s mine!”

Cash smirked, seeming more at ease now that Nesta was his target.

“I knew I’d seen that bef—ow! Goddamnit woman, what was that for?”

He scowled down at the dangerous stiletto Nesta had just jammed into his toe box.

“Sorry,” she cast over her shoulder, not deigning to look at him. “Did I accidentally step on your foot?”

“I’m an adult,” Elain interjected, cheeks burning as she faced her sister down. “Stop acting like I’ve fourteen and stuffing my bra.”

“They’re just boobs, Nes,” Rhys added, arm slung over Feyre’s shoulder. “Relax.”

“Watch it,” Nesta warned him, but Feyre only laughed.

“I agree!” She said, turning to smile at Elain. “And I think they look amazing.”

“If I’d have known they were going to be such a topic of conversation,” Elain mumbled, grateful Azriel wasn’t here to witness this circus. “I would have worn something else.”

“No, I’m with Feyre,” Mor said, wicked grin forming. “Breasts that nice deserve to be shown off.”

Elain wasn’t so humble that she didn’t feel herself preening a bit at that comment, even if she was still flustered by the prolonged attention. Either way, she was grateful when Cash interrupted with a somewhat sheepish laugh.

“Teenage me would be furious if he heard me say this, but can we please stop talking about boobs?”

“Elain’s boobs or just any boobs?” Feyre said with a smirk.

However, before Elain could admonish her for it, Feyre was crushing her into a hug.

“Hey you,” she said, wrapping her arms and Elain’s neck and whispering in her ear, “let me and Rhys know if you wanna stay at our place tonight; Cash already grabbed Nesta’s ass twice when she thought we weren’t looking.”

Feyre indicated the mirror behind the bar with her eyes as they pulled away, and sure enough, Elain watched Cash’s hand as it drew lazy, dangerous circles just above the swell of Nesta’s well-formed behind.

Elain groaned, hugging Rhys now as well. God , her sister was such a hypocrite sometimes.

Ignoring a lingering twinge of annoyance, Elain forced herself to glance in false realization before casually asking, “So where’s the Birthday Boy?”

“He was on his phone out back,” Rhys said, before raising a hand in greeting to someone over Elain’s shoulder. “There he is.”

Elain tried not to look to eager as she turned and drank in all six feet four inches of perfection that was Azriel Macar. He was dressed all in black, from his prada boots to the soft, expensive t-shirt fitted enough to show off his toned physique. Elain honestly had to fight not to swoon as he ran an effortless hand through his glossy sable hair, the longer pomaded pieces on top stand up for a second before falling into an artful tousle.

“Hey Ellie,” he said, gaze on her and gone so quickly that he never even had time to notice her much-discussed cleavage. Instead, his eyes flicked to Mor and held for a long, meaningful beat before he turned back to Elain and added politely, “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure,” she chirped, trying to ignore the fact that he was coming closer, and that in another second she’d be able to smell that divine Givenchy cologne he always wore. “Of course!“

She bent her head, pretending to be fixing the clasp on her bracelet as his scent hit her and she had to bite back a groan. Sweet Jesus, he smelled good. When she looked up again, everyone else was shuffling to their table and Azriel was lingering, a soft smile threatening to the reveal the absolutely devastating dimples in both his cheeks.

“Do I get a hug?” He asked. “It is my birthday after all.”

He extended his arms, and she gave a nervous laugh, accepting the gesture by stringing her arms around his neck.

“Of course,” she repeated stupidly, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he embraced her. “Happy Birthday.”

At this he squeezed her a little tighter and she fought off genuine giddiness.

It was a friendly gesture, she warned herself, and it ended the minute Mor called, “Az, come sit by me.”

Elain cleared her throat as he pulled away, turning to where Mor was still beckoning. However, before Elain could get too flustered, he turned back to her.

“Shall we?” he said, indicating Elain go ahead of him. To her delight, they reached the table to find that the only two seats left were next to each other. She tried not to give her eagerness too much leash as he pulled out her chair for her before sinking into the one between she and Mor. Mor leaned over to give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he flushed.

“Where’s Emmy tonight?” Feyre asked as Mor tried to wipe the lipstick from Az’s copper skin and he battered her away, like child trying to fend off an over-bearing mother.

“She’s sick, poor little thing,” Mor said, giving a tiny pout. “She hasn’t been able to get out of bed in days.”

Elain didn’t bother to her disappointment. Emerie had been one of Nesta’s best since they’d met in college almost ten years ago, and she not only was she like family to the Archerons, she also happened to be the only person in the group who knew about Elain’s crush. Elain had sworn her to secrecy at the time, and though it would have been reasonable to assume that once Emmy knew, Mor would know, Elain appreciated that she could trust Emerie to keep her secret.

Elain felt Emerie’s absence keenly and Nesta and Cash began bantering back and forth at lightning speed. Emerie was a master at slowing the tempo of Nesta’s quick wit, making it easier for Elain in particular to feel she could keep up.

More selfishly, Elain also missed Emerie’s ability to keep Mor distracted. When Emmy was around, she was all Mor could focus on. However, in her absence Mor’s attention had reverted almost completely to Az, a fact he didn’t seemed to mind a single bit, if his growing smiles were any indication.

Still, he seemed to be going out of his way to make sure Elain didn’t get lost in the chaos of conversation surging around them, even if he never looked at her for more than a moment or two before his eyes flicked back to Mor, studying her dark brown eyes and crimson lips.

After they placed their drink orders and the waiter came over to begin explaining the omakase menu, Elain wondered if she had time to dodge under the table to throw on some lipstick of her own. Assuring herself everyone was suitably distracted she bent down, hastily uncapping the tube before looking up just in time to see Nesta brush a very deliberate hand between Cassian’s splayed quads.

Elain jerked back, banging her head on the table.

“Fuck!” she swore quietly, straightening and rubbing her head.

Nesta shot her an alarmed look across the table and Elain flushed.

“All you alright?” Azriel asked, and she tried not to bleat in excited panic as his fingers brushed the back of her head. “What happened?”

“I—dropped something,” she fumbled, cursing her sister for being such a salacious wench.

Wasn’t it enough that she and Cash were already going to keep her up all night? Did she really have to make Elain look silly in front of Azriel, too?

“Does it hurt?” Azriel said, still studying her head before letting his eyes go to the server. “Do you need ice?”

“No, no,” Elain said hurriedly, trying to regain her composure. “I’m fine.”

“Did you at least find whatever you were looking for?” Mor asked, and Elain’s flush deepened.

“And then some,” she grumbled to herself, and Cassian gave a quiet but unmistakable laugh before letting out a surprised exhale. Elain had a fairly good idea what Nesta was squeezing to shut him up.

“Should we order, then?” Mor asked, hand falling onto Azriel’s arm. “Any particular requests, Birthday Boy?”

“He’s thirty now,” Rhys pointed out. “I think that makes him a Birthday Man .”

“Birthday Old Man,” Cassian amended. “Don’t worry champ, I’ve already put some viagra in your bathroom.”

“You’re not supposed to share your prescriptions, Cash,” Azriel said with mirth, eyes sparkling even as his face remained neutral. “And besides, I would feel dead back if you needed one tonight and couldn’t find them.”

“Checkmate,” Mor purred as Cash flipped her off.

Beside Azriel, Elain was fighting not to blush again. Cash’s comment, however sophomoric and lewd, had her imagining what Azriel was like in bed. She wondered for a moment if Mor knew before dismissing the thought and the twinge it induced.

“Let’s put this poor souls out of his misery and order,” Feyre said, smiling at the server where he still waited patiently. “Maybe if Cash’s mouth is full, he’ll stop talking.”

Cassian grinned, and, after placing their requests for the chef’s tasting menu, they all settled into an easy conversation. Cash and Rhys regaled them with stories of Azriel at various ages, from the gawky child he’d been when they’d first met him to the shy teenager who’d been terrified of girls.

“Let him be,” Mor said, touching her friend’s shoulder. “He was sweet in high school!”

Rhys laughed.

“It took him a year to pluck up the courage to say three words to you,” he pointed out.

“And they were ‘here’s a pen’ in response to you asking him the time. Nice work, Shakespeare,” Cash said, attempting to muss Azriel’s perfectly styled hair before being batted away.

“I can’t imagine Az ever being awkward,” Elain blurted. “I bet girls thought he was mysterious and cool.“

“See?” Azriel said, gesturing to Elain. “This is why I sat over here.”

“Oh please ,” Rhys said, bubbling his lips. “Ellie’s just being polite. If you two had known each other in high school, we all know how to would’ve gone: you’d have had an obscene crush on her and your dreams of true love would have been dashed after she politely signed your yearbook ‘have a good summer, Adrian’, leaving you heartbroken and alone.”

Azriel gave Elain a soft smile, and her heart burst open as thousands of butterflies flitted out of it.

“I hate to say it, but he’s probably right,” he told her. “I assume high school Elain was very popular.”

“She was,” Feyre said. “Eight different guys asked her to prom.”

“I’m not surprised,” Az said, and Elain made a great show out of drinking out of her masu to avoid having to answer.

She was relieved when the food began arriving to distract everyone, if only to save her the temptation of telling Azriel that there was no universe in which she wouldn’t have been into him, high schoolers or no.

Instead discussion turned to the Feyre and Rhys’s wedding as they ate, and as final plates were being cleared, Cash took the opportunity to once again mocked Azriel for the fact the latter had lost the rock-paper-scissors competition to be Rhys’s best man.

“I lost on purpose,” he told Elain quietly, taking a sip of the Yamasaki Single Malt he’d ordered after dinner.

“Why?” she laughed, following his gaze across the table to where Cash and Nesta were now bickering about whether Rhys’s stag night in Vegas would be better than Feyre’s hen do in Napa.

“Because Rhys told me that you’d convinced Feyre to pick Nesta as her maid of honor, and no offense, but your sister terrifies me. I’d much rather be with you.”

She laughed, biting her lip. It felt so terribly like they were flirting, but she couldn’t decide if it was her imagination or not.

“She terrifies everyone,” Elain said. “And I have a feeling this won’t our last trip down the aisle together.”

Azriel only quirked a bemused brow at this, which had Elain flushing scarlet.

“Not like that! She laughed, fumbling to pretend the idea of them being together was absurd rather than her heart’s desire. "I meant for Cash and Nesta’s wedding. Don’t tell me those two aren’t going to end up together.”

“We’ll have to work out a custody agreement when they finally get over themselves and start dating properly,” he agreed. “I’m spending a fortune on earplugs.”

She laughed, and he seemed warmed by the gesture, because he flashed a modest—albeit dimpled—smile being turning back to the larger conversation.

After dinner they’d gone a cocktail bar, then an Irish pub, and finally—much to Azriel’s chagrin—a karaoke bar. Rhys and Cash spend the majority of the evening trying to wrestle Azriel on stage while Mor and Feyre sang duets to Beyoncé and Spice Girls.

Elain was content enough to sit back and simply observe the scene as it unfolded around her. It was hard to contain her giddy, dreadful anticipation when Mor left around one to check on Emerie and Azriel—besides bidding her farewell with a soft kiss on the cheek—didn’t move a muscle.

Less than an hour later, Cash and Nesta both disappeared about an hour after without so much as a goodbye. Elain groaned, hoping they’d be asleep by the time she got home.

She’d have to rally if she wanted to manage it; they would be at it for hours yet.

By three the place was clearing out, and besides them, only a few tables of marathon drinkers and a girl on stage performing a beautiful rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” remained.

“We’re gonna go,” Rhys said, arm slung around a rather drunk, giggling Feyre. “Ellie, do you want to come with us?”

Elain glanced at Azriel, who’s glass still had two fingers of whiskey in it. If she wanted a chance to be alone with him, this was it.

“I think I’ve got one more in me,” she said, smiling.

“If you mean drink, I’m in,” Azriel said.

“Oh c’mon, brother,” Rhys goaded. “Just one song. I wouldn’t even film it….much.”

“Do Beyoncé!” Feyre chimed in, and Azriel shook his head.

“You know I’d play in traffic before I ever sang karaoke,” Azriel said mildly, making Feyre laugh. "Thanks for coming.”

He rose, embracing Rhys and pressing a kiss on Feyre’s head.

“C’mon, my little drunkard,” Rhys told her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Let’s have sex when we get home,” Feyre said, her attempted whisper fully audible. Rhys pretended smack his forehead with his palm and a mimed, “ Oh brother ”, to Azriel and Elain before coax a still-singing Feyre outside.

Azriel chuckled before draining the last of his drink and rising. Elain pretended not to notice the way his well-tailored jeans fit his lean legs and…other parts of his anatomy as he adjusted his belt buckle and glanced down at her.

“Bud Light?” he asked, and she nodded, bobbing to her feet as well.

If she wanted a way to get closer to him that was more elegant than her increasing urge to crawl across the table and into his lap, this was certainly it.

“I’ll come with you.”

He flashed her a modest smile before indicating she lead the way. He ordered and waved off Elain’s attempt to pay before leaning on the bar to avoid towering over her. The gesture brought them nearly eye-to-eye, and Elain had to actively fight not to let hers roll back in pleasure at the bergamot and amyris wood notes in his sinful cologne. Up close Elain could see how much green he had in his hazel irises, and she wanted to tip into them and swim until she drowned.

“Did you have fun?” she said, desperate to get the conversation flowing again, and he smiled, making her stomach flop.

“I did, yeah,” he said, glancing around the bar in bemusement, as if still wondering how he’d ended up there. “Thank you for coming.”

Elain shrugged, grinning.

“You say that like you didn’t think I’d show,” she said, resting a cheek in her hand. She knew by now her expression was not her less than a swoon, though she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Hadn’t been this been her plan all along? Finally get Az’s attention long enough to tell him how she felt? Now was the best chance she’d probably ever get.

“No, I figured would,” Az said, interrupting her reverie. “Or hoped you would, whatever.”

Was that—

Did that mean what she thought it did?

Normally she would have chalked it up to wishful thinking, but the way he rubbed the back of his neck, dimples appearing as he huffed what almost sound like a sheepish laugh, had hope igniting in her chest.

“What does that mean?” she pressed, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

For the first time all night, he didn’t look away. Instead, his eyes skated back and forth across her face, as if she were a riddle he only had seconds to memorize. She watched, transfixed, as he wet his plush lower lip with his tongue before biting it almost self-consciously.

“It means I’m glad you came,” he admitted. “And that you didn’t go home with your sister and Rhys.”

It wasn’t the confirmation she’d been hoping for, and the ambiguity of the statement had her conviction waning. That could just as easily have been mean platonically, and if she pushed him and ruined things between them by making it awkward—

“Of course I’d be here for your birthday,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “That’s what friends are for.”

She couldn’t help the way her voice got stuck on the word, not when her throat suddenly began to clog with tears.

She had to get out of here, right now. Before she started crying and made things worse. She made to retract her hand but Azriel grabbed it, grip gentle but intent.

“El, don’t go,” he said, and she was surprised at the frank discontent in his normally-impassive expression.

She waited for him to explain himself before instead he let out another strained laugh, grip on her wrist easing. However, he didn’t let go entirely, choosing to intertwine their fingers instead.

Holding hands.

She and Az were holding hands.

And he—

She glanced back up to find he was studying her again, his face a mixture of terror and delight. When she gave his hand a soft squeeze, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Jesus, I am bad at this,” he said, reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear. She wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it, but she thought his gaze flicked down to her lips as he continued to study her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Bad at what?” She asked, though she’d begun to suspect she knew exactly what, even if it seemed too good to be true.

“At least my timeline is improving,” he breathed instead. “And I haven’t offered you a pen you didn’t ask for yet.”

Hoping she wasn’t misreading the situation, she let her finger trail down to trace the circular buckle of his Gucci before glancing back up at him and purring, “Do you have a pen?”

He smirked before raising his right wrist and glancing at his watch face over her shoulder.

“It’s….3:17 am,” he said, smile spreading as she gave a low sound of approval and flicked her gaze to his lips.

“Smooth,” she said, and tried not to lose her mind as he let his raised hand fall to the back of her neck and bent to kiss her.

He had almost girlishly full lips, and they opened for her as they settled into the kiss. Immediately his hand tangled in her hair so he could alter her head position slightly and get a proper taste of her. She groaned into his mouth he pulled at her lower lip with his teeth. He tasted like oranges and the expensive Japanese whiskey he’d been drinking all night, and pleasure tightened in her low belly as his tongue brushed hers. Her brought his free hand up to cradle her face, and in response she pushed closer to run her hands underneath of his shirt and down the silken skin of his back.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a heated half-laugh, nose brushing her cheek as he bowed into her touch. “You’re killing me, woman.”

She only smirked, feeling more confident now that she had before. She could hardly believe this was happening, but she was too excited about it to fully care.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, and he bit his lip, as if restraining himself from kissing her again.

“Like to another bar?” he asked, dazed as he continued to stare at her lips.

“Like to my bed,” she said boldly. “Or yours, depending on where Cassian and Nesta ended up.”

He didn’t speak immediately, just studied her, and she panicked.

“I mean, only if you—I’m sorry, should I not have—?“

He only kissed her again in response, more gently this time.

“Please stop apologizing,” he said, kissing her jaw now before seeming to realize something and pulling back, brows synced.

“I—Jesus, do you seriously not know?”

She felt a bit sheepish at his incredulous tone and fought not to stiffen.

“Know what?”

He laughed softly, though their was a edge of self-deprecation in it that kept the gesture from seeming conscending.

“I really am the worst at this.”

“At what?”

“El, I’ll crazy about you. I have been crazy about you since we met.”

“You have?” she blurted, horror fading into genuine—if elated—confusion.

He laughed.

“Did you think it was coincidence that you and I are always sitting next to each other at dinner? That I always find you at Rhys’s dumb parties?”

“I—“ she began, still trying to decide if this was a dream or not. “What about Mor, though?”

“Mor?” he repeated, confused now, too. “What about her?”

“I thought you and she—“

He leaned in to brush his nose against hers, and she blushed at the innocent affection in the gesture.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “I did have a thing for her in high school, but I got over it after she and Cash slept together at prom. We’re just friends, I swear.”

“But she’s always touching you, and every time I see you together you can’t stop looking at her.”

At this he laughed, his smile so genuine and open she almost didn’t recognize him.

“She’s always been touchy-feely,” he said. “She grew up in Madrid, and people are just more affectionate there, I guess. And I only watch her when you’re around because she called me out for having an absurd crush on you, and I was afraid she was going to get drunk and blow my cover by telling you.”

Elain shook her head, still not quite believing what she was hearing. Reading her expression, he bent to kiss her softly.

“What guy wouldn’t be crazy about you?” he breathed. “You’re incredible.”

This seemed to break the spell, and she twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him down for another steamy kiss.

“Text Cash,” she said a little breathlessly when they broke away. “I don’t want an audience.”

She couldn’t felt but feeling smug when he almost dropped his phone at those words. It felt good to know that she wasn’t the only one affected by all this.

“Cash and Nesta are at the lof—“ Az began after a minute, but Elain cut him off with a kiss.

H rose, pulling her against him as his tongue brushed the roof of her mouth.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he said as she kissed his neck and tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, earning a low groan. “You’ve been drinking.”

She grabbed his chin so he would look at her.

“Not that much,” she said, and it was true. “And besides, I wanted this way before tonight.“

“Good,” he breathed, pressing a hand to her low back to bring her close to him. “Because so have I.”

Though they spent the majority of the ride up town and the elevator up to her apartment making out, something seemed to shift as Elain’s door clicked shut behind him, as if the gravity of what they were about to do had finally caught up to them.

Reluctantly Az peeled his lips from where they’d been glued to her neck as he took a small step back, as if to give her space.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, feeling embarrassed for how much she still wanted him even now that he seemed to have come to his senses.

“Maybe we should—” he broke off, looking somewhat guilty. “Hold off.”

She nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay again.

“Are you worried this could mess things up in the group? Because I understand—“

“No,” he said hurriedly, coming forward again, as if he could no longer stand to be away. “Not at all. I just—you’re special, El. You deserve to be taken out and spoiled.”

“Az, you just took us to a $1,800 dinner! Or did you think I didn’t see you pulling our server aside?”

Azriel opened his mouth, and she covered it with a finger.

“You don’t need to earn my affection. It’s yours already, free of charge.”

“I’ve just been—I waited so long to make my move and I’m terrified of fucking it up,” he said with a soft laugh.

“Why, are you bad at sex?”

Azriel laughed, seemed to relax at her teasing.

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he breathed again her lips, kissing her deeply again.

She gently bit his lower lip in response.

“Then I’d say you’ve gotten nothing to worry about,” she said, kissing him a third time.

She moaned softly when drove his fingers into her hair, hips canting towards her as he pressed her more fully into the door.

She could feel his body’s reaction to her pressing between her thighs, and she moaned again.

“Fuck,” he breathed onto her skin. “You are so gorgeous.”

“So are you,” she said, running her hands up the back of his t-shirt and feeling the mosaic of muscles flexing underneath. “Take this off.”

He laughed and pulled the offending garment over his head, making her groan in delight.

“God, this body ,” she breathed, running a hand down his chest and enjoying his shiver at her delicate touch.

He responded by spinning her away from him and gently dragging down the zipper of her dress until he could slip a hand inside of it.

“I knew you couldn’t have a bra on underneath this thing,” he said, voice a touch smug as he cupped both bare breasts and her breath caught in her throat..

“I’m surprised you even noticed,” she said, voice somewhat. “I wore this dress for you, and you didn’t even look at it once the entire evening.”

She laughed, the sound into a soft moan as he twisted one nipple in experimentation. When she sighed and let her head fall back onto his shoulder.

“Of course I noticed the dress,” he corrected. “You have the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen. I just knew that if I let myself look, I might not be able to stop looking.”

“You shouldn’t say that until you’ve seen them without the sorcery of underwire,” she said.

With that he spun her to face him, catching her gaze to ensure he had her permission before tugging down the top of the dress so her breasts fell free.

“Gorgeous,” he said, easing to his knees so he could replace his fingers with his mouth. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“If I known this was going to be your reaction, I would have worn a bodycon dress in front of you ages ago,” she said, threading her hands through his hair as he dragged his teeth and tongue along her nipple.

“You don’t need some tight dress to be sexy,” he said, resting his chin her her sternum so he could gaze up at her. “I’d take you in your overalls and pigtail braids any day.”

“Is this some Pippy Longstocking fetish we should all know about?”

He grinned, rising to his feet and giving one of her curls a playful tug.

“Because as devastating as you are playing dress up in your sister’s clothes, I prefer you as you.”

“You can’t say that when I’m naked,” she said with a smile, touching his cheek.

“Why not?”

“Because I may start crying and ruin the mood.”

He cocked his head to the side, tracing her lips with a finger.

“I wouldn’t mind a few tears from you in bed. But only if it’s from you sobbing in pleasure.”

His words sent blood pooling south, the intensity cause a dull throbbing.

“Why do I feel like you could do it, too?” She asked, reaching down to free his belt as he heeled out of his boots.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, taking her hand and guiding it between his legs. “Forget this,” he said, squeezing gently so she could feel how hard he was. “I could go down on your all night and be the happiest guy on Earth.”

Emerie had said as much once, at a drunken girls’ night.

Azriel strikes me as the type of guy who loves eating girls out. It’s why gay women find him so easy to befriend; we recognize kindred spirit.

Elain vowed to never tell the others she’d been right.

“Will you let me?” He asked, gently nudging her dressing off her hips until it came free and pooled at her feet.

“Is this a trick question?” She said, voice going hoarse as he slipping a hand into her underwear.

“Some people don’t like it.”

“I’m not one of them,” she said, he smiled, coaxing her legs around his waist so he could carry her.

“Thank God,” he replayed. “That would break my heart. Which way?”

She pointed him in the right direction before giving into temptation and kissing him again, looking to way she could feel like body reacting to hers as he held her close. Only when they reached her room—which was decidedly messier than she’d have liked considering Azriel Macar was now in it—did he set her down.

He wasted no time into coaxing her onto the bed, taking only a moment to admire the silky black thong she wore before dragging into down her thighs and discarding it.

“Spread your legs for me, El,” he said, brushing kisses to her knee as she slowly did as he commanded.

The light from the nearby street lamp made the room a lot less dark than Elain was used to during sex, and for a moment she though to be embarrassed or postpone. Then she glanced down to admire the contrast of Azriel’s inky black hair framed against the pale skin of her thighs, and she forgot what it even meant to be self-conscious as he finally put him mouth on her.

She swore at the first brush of his tongue, which was both deliberate and extremely delicate. She threaded a hand through his hair at his second stroke, the touch more intentional this time.

“Azriel,” she breathed.

She watched the muscles in his beautiful back shift at this, as if hearing her moan his name had untethered something in him. When he put his mouth back on her, it was clear he was no longer attempted to tease her. Instead he felt right to where she needed him most, refusing to relent until she tipped over the edge.

Even then he didn’t seem satisfied, it and it was only after he made her come a second time did he pull back, licking his lips before bending to kiss her.

“Take your pants off,” she demanded. "Right now.”

She felt him grinning against her neck as he peeled off of her, slowly working the buttons of his pants before sliding them down his trim hips. He wore black boxer briefs underneath, and he honestly looked like an Armani model. She bit her lip, eying the sizable swell of him through the cotton.

“Those too,” she breathed, greedily drinking in his well-defined adonis belt and the bare trace of hair above the band.

He did as she commanded, and she nearly melted. Naked he was a God, all rippling muscles and smooth unblemished skin, save for the chest piece tattoo that extended onto his shoulders and halfway down his arms. She let her eyes sink lower. Even half-hard he was big, and her belly clenched.

Wasting no time, she urged him to take her place on the bed before kneeling at his feet and putting her mouth on it.

“Shit,” he hissed, driving a hand into his hand then down his face. “Ellie, you’re kiling me.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, and he growled in approval, seeming to decide something before breaking her grip on him and hauling her to her feet. He kissed her again, and she could feel his cock as it practically pulsed between them.

She still wasn’t sure she could believe it was for her, that somehow he wanted her as much as she did him, and had for almost as long.

“Condoms,” he breathed against her mouth. “I need to be inside of you.”

She froze.

“I don’t have any,” she said, dismayed.

How could she be so stupid? Why didn’t they stop on the way home? The closest bodega was six blocks, and she knew everyone who worked there. The last thing she needed was all of them knowing—

Azriel pressed a swift kiss to her lips before tangling from her.

“Where are you going?”

“To grab a condom.”

“Naked?

He flashed her a slight grimace, “Let’s agree you won’t ask where I get it from.”

“Oh Moses,” Elain said, face flushing scarlet as she listened to Nesta’s door creaking open.

Azriel was back in less than a minute, tossing an entire box onto the nightstand as he pulled open one of the foils with his teeth, using his free hand to push his damp hair, long enough to brush his cheekbones now that it wasn’t styled, out of his eyes.

“You found those distressingly fast,” Elain said, unsure if she was amused or mortified at the situation.

“Cash is predictable with his hiding spots,” Az said, eyes hooded as he stroked himself several times before rolling the condom onto his length.

“And why did you take the whole box?”

Azriel laughed softly.

“Because I have a feeling we’re going to need them.”

Without another word Az sank to his knees again, one hand lazily stroking himself to maintain his erection as he went down on her again.

This time it only last three seconds or so before he pulled back, resting one knee beside her hip to steady himself before pulling her onto his shaft in a single wet stroke. Using her left bent leg as leverage, he adjusted his angle, smirking at her low, guttural moan of pleasure.

“Good to know your g-spot is as sensitive as the rest of you,” he breathed, and she laughed and tugged him into an ambitious rhythm.

Soon the only sound was their shared breathing, and the sliding on their bodies against one another. She came first, and he followed even before the dizzying waves of pleasure ceased. He pumped lazily in and out of her for another half dozen stroke before gently extracting from her and peeling off the condom.

She curled against him, cheek pressed to chest as her hands continued to explore. Her fingers caressed his swelling pectorals and each of his abdominal muscles before lazily venturing back between his legs. He gave a hiss of pleasure as she began to work his silken shaft in earnest, and in minutes he was fully ready again.

He groaned when she snatched one of the condoms and rolled it onto him before swinging a leg over and sinking astride him.

Her third orgasm hit her only a short time later, and she sighed when he bucked up into her before going languid under her ministrations.

She leaned down to kiss him as he ran a soothing hand down her back.

“Jesus,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers and swirling his hips, still inside her despite his orgasm. “That was incredible.”

She purred her contentment, feeling something even more alluring than desire swell in her chest as he discarded the second condom and tugged her into his arms, tangling their legs. He still smelled like cologne, but it had mixed with her perfume, and sweat, and the scent was intoxicating. She wanted to bath in it—in him—until she died from bliss. She listened to his breathing even out, and as she was drifting off to bed, he felt his breath ruffle her hair.

“Do you like pancakes?” he murmured. “I want to make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Really?” she said, looking at him over a shoulder and melting at the warmth in his smile, less guarded now than it had been even hours before.

“I want to make breakfast for you every morning,” he breathed. “I have since I met you.”

She smiled, nestling closer to him.

“I’d love that, but I should probably be the one making you breakfast. It is your birthday, after all. You have to let me give you something other than a bj and a few orgasms for your birthday, even if it is your dirty 30.”

Az choked on a laugh.

“Say you‘ll dinner with me, then. No family or nosy friends around, just us.”

“I think the word you’re looking for it ‘date’,” she said, laughing as his cheeks flushed before realizing something. “Or is the idea just too formal for the situation? I know we did things a bit backwards...”

“We did,” he agreed, stroking her cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I want to spoil you any less. So yes a date, if you’ll still have me.”

“I will,” she said, meeting his hazel eyes before gently kissing him. “With pleasure.”

He smiled against her mouth.

“Then that’s the only birthday gift I want or need from you.”

She smiled, feeling happy to the point of bursting when he kissed her ear and closed his eyes again.

"Happy Birthday, Az.”

His hum of contentment vibrated through her back.

“The happiest,” he breathed.

#featherywrites #elriel smut #elain x azriel #acotar modern one shot #four word prompts

[silverarmedassassin]

Clandestine Meetings - One

Actor!Bucky x Reader | Word Count: 2488 | Warnings: None

A/N: Listen, I know I said this would be posted in "about an hour," but I have no self-control and it must be posted NOW.

Sorry for the delay in getting this out! I was having a bit of block. Thank you for reading and, if you feel so inclined, please let me know what you think!❤️ If you want to be tagged, please send me a message or enter your url here!

Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

[ Previous | Masterlist | Next ]

It’s 10:30 by the time your boss stumbles into the office. Pepper Potts is usually the embodiment of poised and put together - sleek strawberry blonde hair either falling over her shoulders in beautiful waves or tied in a high ponytail; black pencil skirts and white blouses tucked neatly inside. But not today.

While the ponytail still sits high on her head, dark circles taint her usually smooth, pristine complexion. She’s fisting a to-go mug in one hand and her office mug in the other, already steaming with a fresh round of caffeine.

You hated days like these; mornings after Tony keeps her out late - either business or pleasure, you never know as you prefer not to pry into your bosses’ personal lives - were always interesting, to say the least. Pepper was never mean, and you were almost positive there wasn’t an unkind bone in her body. She was just off. And if she was off, it means you were off, resulting in your job being about one hundred times harder as you often had to play the roles of both assistant and editor.

“Good morning, Ms. Potts,” you finally greet as she sits down at her desk. She’s rummaging through her bag, growing more irritable as the seconds pass. She sighs before stopping to look up at you.

“Y/N, please. It’s been six months. Just call me Pepper.” You internally scoff at the insistence of being anything less than professional towards one of the smartest women you’ve ever encountered in your life, and she turns back to her treasure hunt. “Don’t tell me I left my laptop at home,” she whines to herself as she slumps down into her large executive chair.

You clear your throat as you shuffle forward, computer in hand. “You had me take down to IT to get your files backed up, remember?” you smile as you deposit the device on the cherry-oak desk.

Pepper returns the smile and shakes her head. “Honestly, I don’t understand how I functioned before you.” She slides the laptop across the desk and opens it. While she waits for the software to boot up, she starts her typical morning rapid-fire session. “Did I miss any calls before I came in?”

“No, it’s been pretty q-word this morning.” You vowed never to say “quiet” while in the office. It somehow always jinxed your days, resulting in everyone and their mother calling within twenty minutes.

“E-mails?”

“The chef you’ve been in contact with sent over his schedule for the next few months. It’s looking like the best time to meet is early next month if you want to get the feature done in time for the winter edition.” Pepper opens her mouth to fire another question, but you’re one step ahead of her. “I’ve already blocked out a date in your calendar and sent the invite to his team.”

A soft smile graces the woman’s face as she scribbles notes in her daybook. “And what does my schedule look like for today?”

You sort through the mental files that contain minute-to-minute information regarding your boss’s workday. “You’re pretty booked. You have that photoshop with James Barnes at noon, and after-”

“Shit,” Pepper mummers, cutting you off. Panic quickly settles into her features. “Why does Tony do this? Barnes is impossible to book for anything. I can’t miss this….”

“Uh, no, you can’t,” you practically screech as you fix your boss with a wild look. “This photoshoot has been on your schedule since before I even started. And the time you have set up with him next week doesn’t allow for a full interview, photoshoot, and get material for the short online feature.” You try not to let the panic come out in your voice, but this is precisely the kind of incident you were hired to prevent.

Pepper gently closes her laptop and sets her features in a serious look. “Listen, I think you’re doing a great job here, and you’ve grown so much within the few months you’ve been on the team.” You eye her suspiciously, wondering if this was your ‘you’re fired’ speech. If so, it was definitely coming out of left field. “Why don’t you take my place at the shoot today? If Tony hadn’t promised I’d be in attendance for this investor meeting today, I’d have you go to that instead. But,” the blonde sighs deeply before continuing, “Tony has no regard for anyone’s schedule, and this is an important meeting.”

Your stomach drops from the 44th floor you’re currently on down to ground level. You’d never been on a set before, let alone one with someone as big as James. Plus, you’d only been on a handful of mid-sized interviews. How did she expect you to do this by yourself?

“Pepper, I…”

“I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to try and tell me that you’re not ready and that you can’t possibly clear your schedule for the afternoon. But if I didn’t think you were capable of holding your own, you wouldn’t even be sitting here with ‘assistant editor’ in front of your name. You have the skillset; you just need to show that you can use it. I know you don’t want to be an assistant forever.”

You anxiously bite your lip, feelings of inadequacy and anxiousness filling your senses.

“I don’t even know this James guy…” you say, defeated.

“Well, the car doesn’t arrive for another,” she looks down at her phone, “forty-five minutes. You better get reading.”

“We really need to bring you into the twenty-first century,” Natasha, Bucky’s manager, says as the first notes of My Funny Valentine start dancing through today’s set.

Following the too-bright flash of the camera, Bucky blinks the starbursts out of his eyes and tries to set the redhead with as stern of a look as possible. “Don’t you dare diss Mr. Sinatra. He’s a classic. A legend!” He watches as a stylist runs up and begins fussing with his hair.

Natasha just rolls her eyes and goes back to scrolling through her phone. As much as she acts annoyed with him - and his insistence of having at least two dozen 40’s songs on every photoshoot playlist - he knew she wouldn’t trade him for the world. They had a long history pre-dating the entertainment industry, and she was damn good at her job. If it wasn’t for Nat, Bucky’s not sure his current agency would have even signed him.

As the stylist finishes up her poking and prodding, the photographer - who Bucky has already forgotten the name of - begins shouting out directions from behind the camera. Pose this way. Turn that way. Make it look like you want to be here. It takes everything in Bucky not to grimace - both at the consistent reconfiguring he has to do to his body and the loud rumble that echoes through his stomach. The shirtless pictures they were shooting today caused him - against his better judgment - to forgo breakfast and, with nothing but too-weak black coffee in his system, Bucky couldn’t help but feel a little agitated.

“Just a few more shots, and then we can break for lunch,” he hears the man behind the camera shout before dragging the camera back up to his face.

Bucky contorts himself into a position that shows off the abs he’s worked incredibly hard to achieve and maintain and masks his face in the perfect moody smolder these magazines love so much. Three more pops of the shutter, some grumbling and direction by the photographer, and one more position change, and he’s finally free.

As he’s looking at the pictures and throwing a robe over his bare torso and boxer-clad bottom, Bucky’s attention is pulled from the camera’s tiny screen to the back of the spacious room by Natasha’s stern, Russian-lilted voice. The accent only came out when she was agitated, so the sound alone is often used as a warning sign to those closest to her to stay away.

“How did you even get up here? Is there no security in place? I swear-”

Bucky turns to find his manager - all five-foot-three inches of her - standing defensively in front of whomever she’s cornered by the elevator.

“As I said, I’m here in place of Ms. Potts.” Bucky perks up at the second voice; is almost positive he recognizes the sweet melody despite having only encountered it once several months before. “Here, look, I have my badge.”

Sure enough, as Bucky scurries over to the duo, he sees a familiar face anxiously looking at his manager. He might be terrible with names, but Bucky Barnes rarely forgets a face.

“Natasha, why do you insist on harassing every person who sets foot within a five-foot radius of me while on the job?” Bucky jokes as he approaches the women.

He watches as your attention shifts from the annoyed redhead to him; a look of shock and maybe a hint of mortification flashes across your face.

“I wasn’t harassing. This is a closed set, and randos from the street can’t just walk on up,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “And it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s...you. But you know what I mean!”

He does. After all, protecting his privacy and work is one of Bucky’s most significant concerns. That doesn't mean he isn’t going to tease Natasha any chance he gets. He playfully scoffs and turns his attention to you. “I see you got the job. I told you everything was going to work out.”

Bucky can’t help but preen at the way you anxiously tuck a non-existent stray hair behind your ear and bite your lip. “You were right. Mr. Stark isn’t as intimidating as I thought. Although,” you playfully roll your eyes, “he is a menace. He promised Pepper’s attendance at a meeting, so now you’re stuck with an inexperienced interviewer rather than the queen of journalism.”

“Bah!” Bucky exclaims. “I’m sure you’ll do great. Plus, you’re not the one half-naked in the situation. If anyone embarrasses themselves, it’ll be me.”

Natasha chortles at the comment, mumbling something the sounds a lot like, “ever the charmer,” before walking away. At the same time, Bucky doesn’t miss the way your gaze slowly skims down his cotton-clade body before snapping back up to his face.

“Come on. We just broke for lunch, and Stark spares no expense when it comes to the spreads.”

It’s well past six-thirty in the evening when you finally make it back to your building. Despite the exhaustion flowing through your veins and the grumble in your stomach reminding you every five minutes that you haven’t eaten since lunchtime, there’s a festive air to your being, a proverbial pep to your step that could only be the result of a successful first interview experience.

Yeah, you were a nervous wreck before and during the interview, but you walked away feeling amazing about yourself - and with three pages worth of phenomenal, touching, and personal quotes from the one and only Bucky Barnes.

You try to ignore the butterflies that erupt low in your belly at the thought of the blue-eyed god of a man. Despite having no other experience interviewing someone with as large of a celebrity as he, you’ve concluded that Bucky is an angel of an interviewee. He was polite, answered all of your questions, and flirted just a little. Or, at least that’s what you would call it if you were anyone but a lowly editorial assistant who still purchased from bargain bins because that’s all you could afford. In all reality, Bucky was a very smooth talker with the confidence to back it up. It explained the incomprehensible hype surrounding the man you had no idea was such a big deal less than twelve hours prior.

The rumble of your stomach pulls you back to reality as you unlock your apartment door. You push the thoughts of Bucky to the back of your mind, settle for finishing unpacking the day for when you’re unwinding for bed. Right now, all you want to focus on is fo-

“Uh, hello!” your roommate Wanda screeches as you push open the door. The redhead is standing, arms crossed, in your entry, a look of disdain on her face. “When were you going to tell me, your best friend and roommate, who pays half the rent and utilities, mind you, that Bucky Barnes followed you on Instagram. James Bucky Barnes, Y/N!”

You freeze at the mention of the man who has taken up every inch of your mind since you left the shoot earlier that day. You deposit your keys onto the small table next to the door and try to act as nonchalant as possible. “What are you talking about, Wanda?”

Your roommate starts wagging her phone in front of your face before pulling it back so she can read off her screen. “Well, I follow these gossip blogs - just for fun, of course. I like to stay up-to-date with all the celebrity goings-on.” You fix Wanda with an unamused look as you pass by on the way to the kitchen. “And I was scrolling through, catching up on today’s gossip, and all of a sudden, I see a screenshot of your Instagram account!”

You freeze mid-reach for a saucepan and turn to look at her. “What?”

“Yea, see,” Wanda holds her phone out so you can see the screen. Low and behold, there your account is; questionably composed landscape shots of the city and poorly-lit food pics in all their glory. “It started to circulate this afternoon after someone saw he followed you! Why did he follow you?”

You slowly resume your task of reheating last night’s spaghetti as you answer her. “I...I don’t know? I met him at work this afternoon. He probably just followed me because of Stark.” You shrug despite the thrill that runs through your body.

You halfheartedly listen as Wanda blabs on about the crush she’s apparently had for years despite never having once mentioned it to you, too focused on running through the day’s events to care much about how she’s seen every single one of his films at least a dozen times.

Maybe he had been flirting with you? His manager did mention he flirts with anything with a heartbeat, so it was most likely just part of his personality. Or at least the role he played in public. You weren’t naive enough to think that who Bucky presented himself as to the media, fans, and others not in his inner circle was the real Bucky. After all, he was likely just trying to win you over so you’d write something good about him.

Still, you can’t help the giddy smile that creeps across your face as, when you finally lie down for the night, you open the Instagram app to find Bucky’s name and verified status among the several notifications awaiting you.

@redbarn1995 @juenenfeu

#bucky x reader #actor!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #actor au #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic

[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ Yeosang Imagine: When he's secretly dating you and his friends bully you.

Genre: Angst, fluff, high school au.

Pairing: badboy!Yeosang x fem!reader

Words: 4k

Warnings: Bullying, profanities.

You didn't flinch when you felt a crumpled paper hit the back of your head—you were so used to it now. You could hear familiar laughter while another paper was thrown, and it landed right on top of your desk. You slowly straightened it out, unsurprised to find the same words you were called pretty much everyday—bitch, dweeb, nerd, prude. You put the paper in the pocket of your uniform's skirt, mentally reminding yourself to throw it away later.

"Hey, you nerd!" you heard Jung Wooyoung yell from across the classroom, but you ignored him. He was part of Ateez—a so-called group of eight bad boys who were absolutely nothing but trouble. They were always picking on someone, so most students here were scared of them. You became their victim about three months ago when you accidentally bumped into Song Mingi while you were rushing to class; he thought you were the perfect target, and all his friends joined in on bullying you. 

While you were lost in your thoughts, Jung Wooyoung slammed his fist on your wooden desk, making you flinch at the sudden loud sound. "How dare you fucking ignore me, you stupid bitch?!" Your classmates quietly watched the scene, not daring to open their mouths and stand up for you; they knew that they would be next on the target-list if they even uttered a word. You only had two friends at school and both of them didn't share any common classes with you, except mathematics.

You would've stood up for yourself and slapped Jung Wooyoung across his face, but unfortunately for you, he happened to be your boyfriend's childhood and closest friend. You knew how much your boyfriend, Kang Yeosang, loved and cherished Wooyoung and the other six boys, so you never fought back whenever any of them bullied you. They didn't even know that you were dating Yeosang for almost six months now.

Yeosang always laughed with them while you got bullied, but at the end of the day, he would check up on you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently while he mumbled an apology.

Wooyoung was going to yell at you again, but your teacher arrived, saving you. He glared at you before he quietly returned to his seat; you knew he would come after you again once class ended.

And you were right.

"Stop right there," Wooyoung said, harshly grabbing you by your arm, and pushing you against the student lockers; you winced in pain. Mingi was right behind him, smirking at the situation.

"What did she do now, Woo?" San asked, walking towards the three of you, Seonghwa and Yeosang trailing behind him. Yeosang gave you a questioning look, but you only shook your head slowly. Only Seonghwa noticed the small exchange between you and Yeosang, but he didn't say anything.

Wooyoung snorts. "This little prude here ignored me in class. Shouldn't we teach her a less—"

"Listen, I'm fucking starving right now," Yeosang said in an annoyed tone, interrupting Wooyoung. "Can we please go eat?"

"But—"

"Same," Seonghwa said. "Let's not waste our lunch break. We can deal with her later."

"Fine," Wooyoung scoffs. "This isn't over yet, bitch," he mumbled lowly to you before following the rest of the boys to the cafeteria.

You took a deep breath, resting your head against the locker. You really wished Yeosang would just tell them you were his girlfriend; it would make everything so much easier. You wondered why he still hasn't told them when you've both been dating for nearly half a year. You couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with you. Was he embarrassed to be with you because you weren't the rebellious type like him and his friends? Or was it something else?

You sigh, scrunching your eyes closed while your head slightly pounded at your temples. The whole situation was seriously messing with your head. You see both your friends—Heejin and Jiwoo— making their way towards you, looking at you with worried eyes. They knew you were dating Yeosang and weren't really supportive of it.

"What's wrong?" Heejin asked.

"Headache," you replied.

She nods, taking your hand in hers. "You need to eat, Y/N." She dragged you to the cafeteria while Jiwoo happily told you both about a guy she was starting to like.

Once the three of you got to the cafeteria and bought your respective food, you sat at your usual table which was at the end of the cafeteria.

You could hear familiar laughter and you didn't even have to look at them to know who they were.

Ateez sat at their usual table which was right in the middle of the cafeteria, grabbing nearly everyone's attention. Of course, most people didn't look at them; they didn't want accidental eye-contact resulting in their life getting miserable every day.

A chorus of 'ohhs' were heard, and everyone glanced at Ateez curiously. However, the moment you looked up from your food, your stomach dropped.

Your heart ached at the sight of a girl—the most popular girl in your school— sitting on Yeosang's lap while he looked up at her with a smirk; the same smirk he always gave you whenever he teased you.

"Well, it's about time," you heard a guy seated at the table behind you say. "Kim Shinah has been trying to date him ever since the year started." You knew this, of course. Everyone at your school did. However, Yeosang told you he had absolutely no interest in her and found her quite annoying, so you were quite confused as to why he was letting her sit on his lap, let alone come close to him.

You glanced down at your food, not feeling like eating anymore. Your friends gave you a worried look.

Heejin sighed. "Y/N . . . "

You shook your head. "It's fine," you lied, smiling slightly. "I lost my appetite." You got up from your seat and disposed your food tray before you headed to your next class.

×××

You barely texted Yeosang for the next two weeks and you didn't meet him after school on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays like you usually did; you told him that you were busy studying for the upcoming exams in two weeks. You didn't eat at the cafeteria because Kim Shinah was always busy flirting with Yeosang there; it was too much for you to watch.

Yeosang noticed something was off today when he realised that you haven't replied to his texts in three whole days. He secretly tried to approach you in school, but unfortunately for him, he couldn't find the right opportunity as one of his friends was always there. He felt quite sad that you weren't even glancing at him.

After school ended, you sat on a bench right beside your school's outdoor basketball court, scrolling through your social media while waiting for Jiwoo and Heejin so you all could take a bus home together.

"Oh, look! It's the dweeb!" you heard Song Mingi say. You could see the rest of Ateez through your peripheral vision. You ignore them, keeping your eyes on your phone.

"Your skirt is pretty short for a prude," San said, pointing at your uniform skirt that had moved up your thighs a little.

"Virgins are really so desperate," Hongjoong remarked, and the others agreed. You wanted to laugh and tell them how one of their own friends took your virginity away not too long ago. On the other hand, Yeosang was pissed off with his friends' behavior, but he didn't show it. He acted like nothing was affecting him.

"But it would be so nice to fuck her," Mingi chuckled.

Jongho and Yunho nod. "Imagine how tight this little virgin—"

You had enough now.

You snorted, shocking them because of your 'bold' move. You locked your phone and put it in your pocket before you got up from the bench, looking straight at your boyfriend.

"Your friends are talking about fucking me," you said to Yeosang in a nonchalant tone. "Are you not going to say anything? Not even now?"

Wooyoung scoffed. "Why the fuck are you talking to him, bitch?"

Yeosang only stared back at you, unsure of what to say. He wanted to defend you so badly, but at the same time, he couldn't. At least not in front of his friends.

"I see," you chuckled at his silence. "Let's just . . . " you felt your heart ache. "Let's break up, Yeosang."

Yeosang's eyes widened, feeling his heart shatter into a million pieces. He never thought you would ever break up with him. Seonghwa didn't seem surprised, and the other six boys were shocked.

Yunho turned to Yeosang. "What the fuck is she saying, Yeo—"

Yeosang took a step towards you. "Babe . . . you seriously cannot be breaking up with me for this," Yeosang said, clearly hurt. One of the boys gasped, not expecting this to actually be true; who would've thought the bad boy would choose a goody-two-shoes.

"If you think this is the only reason, you're wrong," you deadpanned. "It's been six months since we started dating, Yeosang. Do you think I'm not tired of you ignoring me in front of everyone? You cancel our plans whenever you have to be with your friends. You laugh along with them whenever they're fucking harassing me, your girlfriend. Your friends have been bullying me for three months now and you wouldn't even say shit. Instead, you join in." You didn't care that the seven boys were listening to this. You didn't care that at this point, tears were streaming down your face. "You even let Kim Shinah sit on your lap and you've been fucking flirting with her right in front of me. You told me you had no interest in her. Who knows what the fuck you do behind my back!" Heejin and Jiwoo had just arrived, standing beside you. Yeosang had a pained expression on his face as he took in everything you just said.

"I really can't do this anymore," you stated, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. "It's over, Yeosang." you give him a small smile before you walked away. Jiwoo followed you while Heejin gave Yeosang a disgusted look.

"You're an asshole, Kang Yeosang. I can't believe she actually loved you," Heejin said before she ran to catch up with you and Jiwoo.

Yeosang stared straight ahead of him, hands clenching into fists. He was so upset with himself. "I fucked up so bad. I love her so much. I really fucked up big time."

"Hyung . . . you're crying," Jongho murmured. Yeosang didn't even realize that. He lets out a broken chuckle while wiping his tears. He left without saying a word to anyone, wanting nothing more than to be alone.

"I knew this would happen," Seonghwa muttered while watching Yeosang walk away, but the boys heard him.

"You knew about this?" Wooyoung asked.

"No, but I kinda figured out recently that there was something going on between them," Seonghwa replied. "I don't know about you guys, but it was really obvious to me that Yeosang liked her. We should go apologize."

×××

You were at your school's library, studying for the exams scheduled for next week. Yeosang didn't go after you or contact you after you broke up with him. In fact, Yeosang hadn't even come to school after that, which was a week ago. His friends didn't bully you anymore and they all apologized for everything. You accepted their apology after they promised to never bully you or anyone else again.

You were just about to leave the library to go home, but someone stopped you. "Y/N, can we talk?" You nodded and followed him outside, waiting for him to speak.

"What is it, Seonghwa?" you asked anxiously when he wasn't saying anything. His silence was making you feel uneasy.

Seonghwa sighs sadly. "Yeosang . . . "

Your heart ached at the mention of his name. "What about him?" you whispered, looking away.

"It's hard to explain," Seonghwa said. "It's better if you see him instead."

"I-I can't, Seonghwa."

"Please, Y/N," he begged. "I know he fucked up, but you really need to see him right now."

You thought about it for a minute before you agreed. Seonghwa drove you to Yeosang's new apartment that he rented out two months ago after his parents kicked him out.

Seonghwa dropped you off at the entrance of the apartment complex before driving off.

You sighed as you made your way to Yeosang's apartment. You rang his doorbell, but no one answered. You rang it twice again, but there was still no response. You bit your lip, contemplating whether you should enter his passcode—the one he had before you broke up. "Fuck it," you muttered after waiting for another minute. You entered the passcode which happened to be your date of birth; you were surprised he didn't change it yet.

You went inside, wondering why his curtains weren't drawn at this time. The room was dim and there were empty Soju bottles scattered on the floor.

Your heart sank at the sight of Yeosang asleep on the floor, curled up into a fetal position. He was wearing the grey hoodie you had gotten him for his birthday.

You kneeled down beside him, running your hand through his messy brown hair. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes and he lost some weight. "What have you done to yourself . . . " you whispered. You went to his room and got a blanket. You placed it over his body and put a pillow under his head before you headed to his kitchen to make dinner with whatever ingredients you could find.

Yeosang woke up an hour later, confused because of the delicious smell of food. "Seonghwa hyung . . . ?" he called out, his voice deep as he just woke up. When he got no reply, he forced himself to stand up, making his way to the kitchen.

Yeosang rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Hyung, how did you get into my apartment? I don't think I've ever told you the pass— Y/N . . . ?"

"I made dinner," you said while putting some rice in a bowl. Yeosang stood there with a dumbfounded expression, wondering if he was still too sleepy. "Go freshen up," you said. He nodded slowly after realizing you were really here before going to the bathroom.

When he came back, he sat down with you at the dining table. "Y/N, I—"

"Eat first," you interrupted him. "We'll talk after this." He nodded obediently, immediately taking a bite of his food. He finished the entire thing in less than five minutes. "When was the last time you had a proper meal?" you asked.

"Last week," he answered. "Seonghwa hyung tried to make something for me, but I couldn't eat . . . so he forced me." He hesitantly reached out to cup your cheek, stroking your skin gently.

"What are you doing . . . ?" you murmured, involuntarily leaning into his touch that you missed so much.

"Just making sure you're really here and I'm not dreaming," he said before his eyes started watering. "Y/N, I . . . I'm so sorry." Your head told you not to forgive him, but your heart disagreed.

You stood up from the chair and went to his side, pulling him into a hug while he cried. "It's fine, Yeosang."

"It's not," he sobbed. "It's not fine and you know it. I said— I promised I wouldn't let anyone hurt you and would protect you from everyone. I promised I would never be the reason behind your tears. And look at what I did! God, I fucking hate myself for hurting you." Your heart hurt at the way he cried. You ran your fingers through his soft hair, trying to calm him down. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I want to ask you for another chance, but I know I don't deserve it," he whispered. "I failed to be a good boyfriend. I failed to be the man you could trust, and I failed to be the man you could l-love and—"

You brought his lips to yours, cutting him off. "I love you, Kang Yeosang. I'm in love with you. I have been for quite sometime now. Yes, you fucked up and I shouldn't be here, but I just can't let you go . . . I really love you, Yeosang. I want to give you another chance." He wiped your tears that began to fall.

"I don't deserve you, Y/N," he said with a sad smile. "But thank you for giving me another chance and for loving me . . . I swear I won't fuck up this time."

You kissed the birthmark beside his eye. "I know you won't . . . But I want an explanation."

He nodded. "There's nothing much to say, I was a fucking asshole. My friends always kept saying that I'm the innocent one, so I bullied people along with them to prove that I'm not what they think I am . . . and then I just got into it. I swear I wanted to beat them up for hurting you and saying all those awful things, but I just couldn't. I wasn't able to speak up even if I really wanted to . . . As for Kim Shinah, they told me to flirt back just to see her reaction. I swear I don't have any feelings for her or anyone else who isn't you." You listened to every word he said, contemplating on what to do. "You really don't have to forgive me, Y/N, after I put you through so much shit. I'll accept whatever decision you make, even if," he took a deep breath. "Even if you say you never want to see me again. I know I'm a bad person."

You shook your head, running your hands through his hair. "Everyone deserves another chance if they're willing to change, Yeosang. We all make mistakes, some forgivable and some unforgivable. But to me, what's important is how you deal with it afterwards. You're not a bad person, Yeosang. Yeah, you got carried away with all that, but that doesn't make you a bad person overall."

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he stood up from the chair, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you, baby. I swear I'll change. I fucking swear I'll become so much better that you'll be so proud to call me yours."

You cupped his cheek, wiping away his tears. "I'm already proud of you now," you say with a grin.

Yeosang leaned in, crashing his lips onto yours. "I love you, Y/N," he said in between kisses. "So much." You smiled against his lips, pulling away.

"I love you more, Kang Yeosang," you said before wrapping your arms around his neck, happily bringing his lips back to yours.

#ateez #ateez imagines #Yeosang #Kang Yeosang #badboy!yeosang #ateez Yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #Hongjoong #seonghwa #Yeosang angst #Yeosang fluff #ateez angst #ateez fluff #Yeosang x reader #Yeosang smut #badboy!ateez #ateez san #woosang #ateez reactions #ateez one shot #ateez blurb #ateez drabbles #yeosang imagines #kang Yeosang imagines #badboy!yeosang x reader #song mingi #jeong yunho

[crimsonrae]

Oh, I am excited then! May I please request a Captain Syverson or Clark Kent/Femme! Reader oneshot where it's the reader's birthday, but she doesn't tell Sy/Clark because she doesn't celebrate/forgets and they find out and do something for her? Maybe a surprise dinner or something? Thank you so much, darling!!

Hey Nonnie,

As requested a birthday fic with Mr. Kent. Fluff fic - I hope you like it.

Clark KentxReader

Falling, Flying

Happy Birthday!

You sighed wearily as you eyed the balloon decorated card from the florist. A beautifully arranged bouquet of sunflowers and chrysanthemums rested on your desk. Admittedly, the amber and wine tones were striking and brought a brightness to your office that was usually lacking, but it was also like having a bright neon sign to remind you of a day that you usually wanted to ignore.

This was the problem with having with life-long friends... they liked to torture you.

You chucked the card into your trash and moved the flowers to the window. You’d text Maria later to call her an asshole and thank her for the little gift.  

“Hey, nice flowers.”

Your butt had barely touched your desk chair. Biting back another sigh, you glanced up to see Lombard loitering in your doorway, “Thanks... Did you have that election article for me?”

“Y/N, it’s all work and no play with you.” Lombard complained loftily as he leaned against the threshold.

You shook your head, ignoring him as you logged into your computer. Your fingers clacked hard at the keyboard when he didn’t disappear nor answer your question. He stood like a creepy grotesque and it only took another minute of stunted silence before you broke.

“Lombard, what do you want?” He grinned victoriously while you threw a mocking scowl at him, “Article?”

He sauntered forward and dropped into the chair before your desk, “So, what are the flowers for? Did Smallville screw up? Apology flowers? Or an anniversary? Don’t let Lois see if it’s the second, cuzzz I don’t think it’s been quite a year since they’ve broken up.”

You rolled your eyes and grumbled under your breath about reporters. Never mind that you used to work as one, editing was more in your comfort zone anyway. You and Clark had only managed to date for two weeks before the office found out.  

Bloodhounds – every single one of them.  

Including your boy.

“You should work for a gossip rag, Steve. You’d really shine there.” You stated dryly, focusing back on the screen as a few new articles showed in your inbox. It was going to be a busy day of fact-checking and proofreading.

“Oh, don’t be mean. I’m just taking a healthy interest in my colleague’s life.” A smugly amused smirk crossed his lips before a pen came flying at his face, “Hey!”

Unapologetic, you pointed at the door “Get out of my office and get your article done.”  

He moved to protest or retort, you weren’t sure, as a new voice interrupted.

“Harassing my girl again, Lombard.”

A feeling of déjà vu fell over you as you and Lombard looked to your door to see Clark leaning in the threshold. You smiled faintly at him becoming amused as Lombard actually shifted to stand. As nice as Clark was, Lombard was well aware that his arms were the size of his head. He felt it better for his ego if he never stood to close to the other reporter...or pissed him off.

And yet...

“Nice choice of flowers, Smallville. So, what did you do?” The smaller man queried jovially.

You threw another pen at him as Clark zeroed in on your present and frowned. He tilted his head curiously and came over to have a better look, allowing Lombard a direct escape if he wanted, “Those aren’t from me.”

You could practically feel a whole new level of intrigue pour from Lombard at Clark’s words. You sent the nosy reported a pointed glare and lifted a pen threateningly. He finally took the hint and left as you spun your chair to face your boyfriend.

You couldn’t stop a cheeky smile as he arched a brow at you, “Yeah...I’ve been meaning to tell you – I've been seeing other guys. You’re gonna need to step up your game, farm boy.”

Clark snorted and slanted a mockingly stern gaze at you through his glasses. You still couldn’t decide if you liked him better with or without the frames, but the meandering thought flew from your head as he nudged your legs apart with his knee and leaned into you. You spared a quick glance towards your open door before meeting him halfway for a kiss.

A soft warmth enveloped you as he nipped your lip and gently coaxed your mouth to open. He stole your breath as he delved deeper and you tasted each other thoroughly. Somehow, you always forgot how good a kisser he was.... it was almost unfair. Especially when he pulled away with that knowing glint in his eye that made you want to smack him and climb him like a tree all at once.  

He smirked, “Somehow, I’m not worried.”

“You don’t play fair.” You grumbled though an affectionate smile pulled at the edges of your lips.

“Says the woman who’s receiving flowers from someone other than her boyfriend.” Clark drawled pointedly as he leaned against your desk.

Unwillingly, you glance at your flowery neon sign. You had no desire to share the real reason for the bouquet. Your birthday had never been a particularly good day for you and the only good ones that you had celebrated had been when you were alone.  

A cup of tea and a good book to read as you let the day pass you by and ignored the fact that you were another year older... that was your perfection.

You sighed and shrugged, “They’re from Maria, so no need to be jealous.”

His brow furrowed. He had only met Maria a few times and was still trying to wrap his head around the friendship you two shared. Insults, practical jokes, and a fair bit of clothes thievery made up the majority of your relationship.

“You guys aren’t in a prank war again, are you?” Clark asked leerily.

He had been the unintended victim of a couple of your pranks the last month and you couldn’t help, but smirk at the memory.  

You shook your head, a lie spilling from your lips before you could stop it, “No. I think I need to check my closet for those new Jimmy Choo's I bought. They’re probably gone now.”

Clark rolled his eyes, “I really don’t understand you two.”

“You don’t need to.” You replied calmly but made the mental note to check your closet anyway. You never knew with Maria.  

“Y/N! Stop canoodling your boyfriend! You’ve got papers on the printer.”

A low groan left your lips as a faint heat filled your cheeks at Lombard’s voice, but you moved to get up anyway. You had no desire to have him hover in your office again.  

Clark moved to follow before a colorful glint caught his eye. A quick check showed him that you were already out of the office as he reached down to pull the florist’s card from the trash. A deep frown marred his features as he took in the festive balloons and quickly scrawled birthday wish.

Why wouldn’t you tell him it was your birthday?

He quickly nabbed Maria’s number from your phone and disappeared from your office.

  ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Your eyes had begun to sting as you stared at your computer screen. A small headache forming at the base of your neck, as you continued to work. You hadn’t been wrong when you assessed that today was going to be busy.

Five more articles had appeared on your desk before lunch and about a dozen phone calls placed and taken before and after that – notes were scribbled into margins and glaring errors corrected. So far, you had only been able to toss back a couple pieces and it was well after six already. Tiredly, you rubbed at the bridge of your nose, more than ready to go home and collapse into bed...but there was still so much you needed to do.

“Hey, you about ready to go?”  

You started at the sound of Clark’s voice, nearly sending your keyboard skittering to the floor, “Christ! I swear you need a damn bell.”

He chuckled lowly, watching as you clutched at your chest and glared mildly at him. He came to stand next to your desk, noting that you hadn’t even begun to shut down for the night while his shoulder bag was already tucked under his arm, ready to call it quits, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Grab your stuff, I’m taking you to dinner.”

A rueful smile quirked at your lips as you wave him off, “Raincheck, babe. I need to get this done or Perry’s gonna have a fit.”

He frowned glancing over the mess of papers on your desk. He hadn’t planned for you to still be working and almost wondered if you had taken on extra articles on purpose, “How much more do you have to do?”

“Don’t know. Maybe another hour – two tops.” You shrugged and smiled softly at him, “You’re free to roam the skies, Captain.

Clark raised an incredulous brow. Not because you had alluded to his alter-ego, you had known for a few months now and had slowly been coming to terms with the fact that your boyfriend was a superhero. It was a road that had not been easily traveled by any means. No, his disbelief came from now being certain that you had taken on extra articles.  

You didn’t often seek solitude, but when you did it was by diving into your work... he had learned that particular quirk relatively quickly and almost painfully. But not tonight – tonight you and he had plans and he wasn’t about to let you break them.

He reached over your shoulder and hit a couple buttons on your keyboard to send your computer into hibernation. You stared in shock at his gall, “Clark!”

He was already grabbing your coat, “Dinner, let’s go.”

Your gaze swiveled from the computer to him, your headache becoming full-blown as your expression creased into annoyance, “I told you, I have work. I’m sorry if that ruins your plans, but we’ll just -”

“You didn’t have lunch.” He cut you off and crossed his arms with a mild glare of his own, “You’ve been mainlining coffee like there’s about to be a tariff placed on it. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that all you ate today was a bagel from Guillermo’s. And I know for a fact that no one has a deadline that needs to be met today or tomorrow. Dinner. Now. Don’t think I won’t drag you out of here.”

You glare at each other in a silent standoff. It wasn’t until he stepped toward you that you gave in with a heavy scowl, “What are you? My mother?”  

“A concerned boyfriend.” He retorted as he held out your coat.

You accepted it grudgingly and grabbed your purse before stepping out of the office. Clark followed behind you, not wanting to give you a chance to close the door on him. You had done it before.  

He watched you from the corner of his cerulean eyes. Your annoyance didn’t last long, but a deep weariness seemed to fall over you as the two of you left the Planet. He slid a warm comforting hand across the small of your back to grip lightly at your hip. Relief flowing through him as you leaned into his side. You weren’t too annoyed with him, then.

You made it down an entire block before you realized you didn’t know where you were heading. Both of your apartments were in the other direction and any decent restaurant required calling for a cab to get to...

You blinked in confusion, “Clark...where?”

He smiled wondering when you would ask. Glancing around discreetly, he pulled you into an alley and firmly against his body. Your brow rose, a questioned poised on the tip of your tongue that turned into a startled scream as you suddenly found yourself in the air.

Your arms wrapped around his neck like a lock as you buried your face into his shoulder. Muffled curses and small whimpers spilled from your throat as the two of you flew. Even when he slowed, now safely away from prying eyes and telescopes, you refused to look up.  

“You can relax. I won’t drop you.” He murmured into your ear, feeling mildly guilty for scaring you. He could feel you trembling and knew it wasn’t from the cold air.

A muffled curse was his only response as you gripped tighter. You did not like this.

Luckily, you were soon on the ground again, though it took you a few minutes to remember how to unlock your frozen limbs. Your heart pounded in your chest as you swallowed against a noxious turn of your stomach. You couldn’t stop shaking...

Clark rubbed soothingly at your arms as you tried to find some semblance of control over your body. Your eyes slowly opened into a dark glare, your hand already moving to smack him in the chest. It was infuriating to know that it wouldn’t hurt him, “Don’t ever do that again, you jackass.”  

His eyes widen in a way that reminded you of a scolded puppy, but you refused to bend and stumbled back a step. You turned intending to see where exactly he had dropped you and figure out how to get home but froze at the sight you found.

Twinkle lights shimmered in the burgeoning night sky as they danced about the branches of an old willow tree. A small wooden table set for two was guarded by the fluttering leaves while being showcased by the light. It was startlingly quaint and romantic all in one.

Martha smiled as she placed a covered dish in the center of the table and waved at the two of you. You were on the farm...  

“Happy Birthday,” Clark murmured behind you.

Your mouth moved silently before you turned confused eyes on him, “...How?”

“I saw the card in your trash can. Called Maria... then I called mom.” Clark explained casually as if he were talking about the weather.

Stunned all you could do was blink, even as Martha came up to greet the two of you.  

She wrapped you in a quick hug, “Happy Birthday, dear.”

Then turned to place a kiss to her son’s cheek before shooing you towards the table, “Go, eat before it gets cold. I need to finish your cake.”

Cake. The word jolted you back to reality, “Oh Martha - you didn’t need to go through all this trouble.”

“Nonsense.” She called back, already halfway back to the house.  

Distracted, Clark slipped his hand into yours and gently tugged you towards the table. Smells of garlic and tomato and cheese wafted toward you and your mouth began to water. Sheer wonder filled you as Clark pulled your chair out for you and then moved to uncover the dish Martha had left. Steam rose into the air as he revealed a freshly baked lasagna. Salad and garlic bread next to it.

Your throat constricted as you took in the care that had gone into this... A home cook meal shouldn’t bring you to tears, but you felt the sting at the corners of your eyes.  

“Y/N?” Clark called quietly. Worried that he may have overstepped his bounds with this surprise.

Your heart felt too big for your chest as you met his gaze. It was with tremulous movements that you left your seat to place a grateful kiss to his lips, “Thank you...I didn’t...You didn’t need...”

You couldn’t find the words to express just how overwhelmed you were feeling as you fell back to your seat, but not letting go of his hand.

Clark watched you with a soft smile, “I think it's my right to spoil my girlfriend on her birthday, though it would help if I had known sooner.”  

A stray tear spilled down your cheek as you shook your head, knowing that you would have to explain your distaste for this day...but you also didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts, “I didn’t expect you to...Clark -”

He squeezed your hand as if he already knew, “Tell me later, I have more spoiling to do.”

You huffed a laugh and shyly smiled, “You know Clark Kent, you really know how to make a girl fall.”

He grinned widely, “And to think you hate flying.”

“You’re still not fully forgiven for that... but I think I’ll get over it.” You murmured, joy burning your veins as his expression turned relieved.

He pressed a kiss to your joined hands.

It was the first birthday you could say that you truly enjoyed. Over a plate of hot lasagna in the late summer night as crickets chirped and frogs sang and with a man... a man who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. That was the only present you ever needed.

  ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

If you would like to be tagged in my stories please add yourself to the taglist linked in my bio!!

General Taglist (All Writings)

@bichibibi @madbaddic7ed @beckster07890 @herefortherealdeal

General Taglist (Henry Cavill Characters Only)

@a-wxnderless-mind  @clarreee @graceful-leah @sweetdreamsofgelato @werewolfonastolenbike  @worshipping-skarsgard  @chamomilebottom @ginger-tiger @henry-cavill-obsessed @michellemybelles-world @singeramg @tinabean37 @viking-raider @xxxkatxo @mary-ann84 @henrythickcavill @omgkatinka @oddsnendsfanfics @misslalaland-blog-blog @littlefreya @radaofrivia @iloveyouyen @justaboringadult @qualitynightkoala @auds24 @maizyistrash @magdelen69 @penwieldingdreamer  @henryobsessed @thelastsock @mstgsmy  @scorpionchild81 @purplelove75 @agniavateira @cavillhavoc @henryfanfics101 @imneonpanda @lebguardians @marswritings @oddsnendsfanfics @promptandpros @multixwolf @tumblnewby @vikingsbifrost @wolvesandhoundshowltogether

#man of steel #superman #clark kent #clark kent x reader #fanfiction

[unmaskedagain]

Five boys the Batfamily scared off (And the one boy who helped Marinette get revenge on them all)

This is actually based off a prompt/ask I got by #vixen-Uchiha

Okay, believe it or not, I’ve in history of all my days writing fanfiction (I just turned 27 and have been writing since I was sixteen); I started when Twilight was still at the height of its popularity. (All that work has been deleted, burned, and doused with holy water; don’t ask questions) But even with almost a decade of writing fanfiction, I never even considered approaching this fanfiction classic.

Until now.

Wish me luck. And don’t judge me too harshly.

Note this was also inspired by a poem I loved called To the Boys Who May One Day Date My Daughter by Jesse Parent

 Marinette always knew Tom was her step-father. Sabine and he married when she was three after all. And while she considered the great cuddly bear to be her dad, she still had a great relationship with her actual father: Bruce Wayne. And all her brothers and Sister.  She spent every summer with them and every other Christmas in Gotham. She loved her family. She just wished they take a chill pill.

And stop scaring away her freaking boyfriends.

Lê Chiến Kim: The Boy who swears Marinette’s related to the Boogieman

           If anyone asked Marinette now if she would ever date Kim, she’d have died of laughter. Kim was like a goofy cousin. They were great friends. Their moms were best friends. She just didn’t see him like that.

           However, it wouldn’t have been so funny to six-year-old Marinette who ran from school with a Daisy in her hair and a big smile her face.

“Daddy, Daddy,” She’d squeal to her Papa later that day. She barely noticed he was still wearing bat uniform, except the mask. Or all her brothers were with him.

“Hey Sunshine,” Bruce smiled lovingly at his youngest daughter. “You have a good day at school.”

“Give ‘em hell, firecracker,” Jason called from the background.

           Tim and Dick laughed. Bruce just shook his head amused.

“I got a boyfriend!”    

           Silence.

           That day would forever be known as the day all the smiles died. Seven-year-old Damian just blinked in confusion. He didn’t know what had happened but he knew it was bad. And that it involved his sister. Was she in danger? Did she need help?

           Before Bruce could process or respond to his precious, baby girl, who was way too young to date (And what the hell was Sabine thinking?). Dick literally pushed him out of his chair like it was nothing. “What’s his name? Who are his parents? Where does he live? And where can I find him right now?”

           Marinette, being too young didn’t notice the threat in her eldest brother’s voice and the look of murder in his eyes, had no problem telling Dick all about her best friend Kim, who was super nice, and gave her a Daisy, and kissed her cheek.

           When the call ended, Bruce brought up the picture of the boy in question. A nice-enough looking boy to most, but he knew the truth. He knew the evil in his heart.

I have been waiting for you, Bruce thought, not just to Kim but to all the boys who would day date his daughter, since before she was even born. Before you took your first steps, I was preparing to make it so you’d never walk again.

           However, Kim was still just a child. He needed a kinder touch. He looked back at his children: Dick, Jason, Cassandra, Tim, and Damian, and made his choice.

           When Dick showed up to walk her to the school the next day, Marinette didn’t think to question how her brother got from Gotham to Paris so quick. (Cough, misuse of Zeta beam). Or why he was dressed in all black with a scary biker jacket on. She just shrugged and let him help her tie her shoes and carry her bright pink, hello kitty, and backpack.

           He held her hand the entire way to school, where Kim and his dad were waiting by the doors. Kim had another daisy in his hand that he gave to Marinette.

“This is Dick,” Marinette introduced her brother. “My biggest brother. This is Kim, my boyfriend,” Kim preened. “Look, Dick, Kim got me another daisy.”

           Dick beamed at his sweet little sister, “I see. Hey! Isn’t that you’re friend Rose? Why don’t you go show her?”

“Okay!” And she ran off.

           As soon as she was gone, Dick’s smile quickly disappeared and he glared at the little Casanova, and his father, who felt like someone had just walked over his grave.

“My sister is a little young for a serious boyfriend,” Dick hissed. “Don’t you think? Don’t want her to grow up too fast, right?” The two could only nod in fear. “Good. Don’t hurt her. Don’t make her cry. Because I’d hate to have to have another talk with you, Chiến. It might not go as… nicely.” And with that, he left to go find his sister, leaving two terrified people in in wake.

           That conversation would be the reason Kim broke up with Marinette over recess but to the girl’s dismay and why the boy wouldn’t allowed to date for another ten years.

           Looking back Kim would swear darkness and shadows started to fill the schoolyard. That Marinette’s older brother’s voice got deeper and his eyes turned completely black. He had been a living nightmare, one that would haunt his dreams for years.

Marinette wouldn’t get another boyfriend for years.

 Chat Noir aka Adrien Agreste; The Boy who just didn’t want to Get Neutered

           Marinette never considered Adrien or Chat Noir her boyfriend. He had been her best friend, her partner, and for a long time, her crush. However, before Marinette found out who was behind the mask, and he earned the title of her best friend in the whole world.

Chat Noir had the title of Guy who can’t take a hint.

           They had been just thirteen at the time. Chat had been spending for more and more time flirting with Ladybug and joking around then actually taking the fight seriously. And when he wouldn’t get the response he wanted from his Lady, he’d pout or throw a tantrum and storm off. It had been getting to be a real hassle. And as much as she liked Chat, she had been seriously considering Master Fu’s offer of getting her a permanent partner to replace him.

           Then one day if all change. All the silly behavior, most of it anyway, and the constant flirting all stopped and never started back up. It would take Marinette months to find out why.

           Unbeknownst to Marinette, her Papa, Bruce had been keeping a watchful eye on the deteriorating situation. The flirting, his daughter’s frustration, the lack of care. It had to be stopped. Chat Noir had a few lessons to learn.

           Bruce glared harshly at the image of the cat-themed Superhero. He was proving to be a useless partner for Ladybug. And a prime example for a sexual harassment claim. “You’re sure you can handle this,” He asked son.

           Damian scoffed, “I will teach that alley cat the true meaning of fear.”

“Go.”

           When his son was gone and Bruce was once again alone in the Batcave, he smirked darkly at Chat Noir and all other boys who would come and go. “When you were still playing war in the school yard, I was perfecting headshots. You can’t catch up at this point.”

           One night, after a particularly hazardous fight with an Akuma, Chat Noir had been running home when suddenly everything went dark.

           He woke up, tied upside down, and gagged. For a few moments he thought Hawkmoth had finally gotten, wondered if this was the end.

           When a sword pressed against his throat, and a chilling voice whispered in his ear, “Care to find out just how many lives you really have, fleabag?”

           At the moment, Chat Noir no longer wondered if it was the end. He knew it was.

           A boy, Robin, he realized glared fiercely at him.

“I should kill you,” Robin sneered. “I should rip you limb from limb and leave your head mounted on a spike to show the next fool who thought he was worthy of my sister’s hand. Ladybug is too good for the likes of scum like you.”

           Chat Noir gulped. Sister? Ladybug was Robin’s sister. Adrien’s eyes widened, that meant Ladybug was Batman daughter. He was going to die. He was just going to disappear and his father, or most likely Nathalie, wouldn’t even notice until he failed to show up for his next appointment.

Gorilla would notice though, Adrien thought, he’d miss me.

           Robin pressed the tip of the sword to Adrien’s face until blood was drawn. “You will cease your incessant flirting with my sister. You will train harder for your battles. And you never, ever, leave Ladybug to fight alone again. Am I clear?”

           Adrien nodded his head earnestly. He’d never flirt with anyone again, he swore. He wouldn’t even celebrate Valentine’s Day. Or anything.

“And if for some miracle,” Robin hissed, “My sister deems you suitable to date, you will treat her will respect. You will never touch her without permission. And if you hurt her, Consider my genes a mark of Cain; you will suffer seven times whatever you do to her.”

           Chat Noir whimpered.

           A smoke bomb later. Chat Noir’s bonds were released and Robin was gone.

           It took a long time for him to stop shaking.

           He never flirted with Ladybug again. He worked harder and became the partner she deserved.

           And when Adrien discovered Marinette was behind Ladybug’s mask, he only managed to stumble a little.

           However, when Marinette told him that her brothers was coming for a visit; she couldn’t understand why he paled and stuttered out excuses for photoshoot he never mentioned before in far, far away countries. That same day, Adrien had his father taken them to Australia for vacation under the threat of Adrien dying his hair pink. He wouldn’t return for a month.

Jon Kent: The Boy who, in retrospect, really should’ve known better.

           Marinette’s first real boyfriend was the son of her father’s best friend, Clark Kent, otherwise known as Superman.  She had been only fourteen and it had been a summer romance while she stayed in Gotham. She had thought Jon was perfect; handsome, kind, funny…

           Invulnerable to most weapons and had amazing healing factor.

           Plus it’s not like her papa would kill the son of his best friend, right?

           Right.

           It had all been going great… until it wasn’t.

“I welcome you in my home,” Bruce hissed at the picture of Jon Kent on the bat computer. “I trained you. I trusted you. And you betrayed me.”

“Let me speak with him, father,” Damian demanded. “He is my friend. He will listen to me.”

           Bruce shook his head, “That’s why I can’t send you. You’re too close to the situation. He snuck past all our defense. Now I have no choice but to do same. J?”

           The Asian girl smirked, “Little Superboy will know dread.”

           Jon had been visiting the fortress of Solitude when… it happened.

           Before that day he had never dreamed the place would be anything less than safe, anything other than secure.

           His dad had just flown off to help someone in Brazil. Jon waited patiently for him to come back while he dreamed of his beautiful new girlfriend. Marinette was amazing, perfect, and the nicest, sweetest girl ever.

           When suddenly he felt a tickle in his throat, and he tried his best to clear it but it just got worse and worse. Until Jonathan Samuel Kent, Superboy (now that Connor was going as Krypton), fell to his knees as he struggled to breath.

           No matter what he did, the more breaths he took, the worse he felt. It was like his lungs were on fire.

“Do not struggle,” A voice said. Jon looked up see Blackbat, Cassandra, standing above him. How did she get into the fortress? Not only could only a Kryptonian open the doors but only a member of El could be let in. It was impossible. “Struggling makes it worse.”

           Jon coughed, “What?”

“The air,” Cassandra waved her hand around. “It is filled with dust. Green dust of Kryptonite. It has disable you and your powers. It’s concentrated. You will not die. The alerts of the fortress were disabled. No one is coming to help you, villain.”

           Jon shook his head frantically. He wasn’t a villain. He wasn’t a bad guy. This had to be some mistake.

“No, not villain,” Cassandra corrected. “Not yet. A thief who thought he could earn my family’s trust and then steal away our most precious jewel; our princess. And do it without consequences. I am here to teach you better.”

           Superboy flinched at her words.

“You will not pressure my sister,” Cassandra hissed. “You will be the gentleman we believed you to be. If you cheat on her, I will ensure you never have children. If you strike her, I will know. She will not keep your secret. You can’t make fire feel afraid. And I will come for you. Do you understand?”

Jon nodded, fear in clear in his eyes.

“Good.” She leaned forward, right into the young superhero’s face. “Some say you and your father, your cousin Kara, and Connor, are invincible. That you can’t be stopped. That you are gods among us.” She scoffed. “Let me make this, if you break my sisters’ heart, you will learn, boy of steel, that even gods bleed.”

           And then she was gone, and with her all traces of kryptonite. It didn’t stop the chill that filled Jon to the core.

           It was to no one’s surprise when Superman showed up at the Batcave not long after. “Bruce,” Clark asked with his arms out. “What the fuck?”

           Marinette’s relationship soured when suddenly Jon was too scared to hold her hand, her be alone with her, or kiss her. She got the hint that he just wanted to be friends and broke it.

           She found out a year later what really happened.

Luka Couffaine: The Boy who decided he didn’t want to sing his tune yet.

           Luka had been Marinette’s first serious boyfriend. She was sixteen. They had been together for months and were getting to the ‘I love you’ stage.

           He was cool. He was funny. He was a budding Rock star. He had dyed green hair, tattoos and earrings. Luka went onto tour with his band every summer. He was older than Marinette by two years. He had quite a few previous girlfriends. And he hadn’t been scared off by the normal attempts by his other kids.

           In other words, he was Bruce Wayne’s worst nightmare.

           And the nightmare got worse, when for the first time ever, Marinette was bringing a boyfriend home for Christmas. It was all the confirmation he needed that the things were serious.

           It was why he knew he had to send the greatest soldier he had. Luka Couffaine would rue the day he decided it was good idea to ask his princess out. “Are you ready?”

           Tim nodded. “I’ve done my research,” he declared. “I know what makes him to tick. I. Will. Break. Him.”

“Excellent,” He drawled out the word like it he tasting fine wine. Not caring at all that he sounded like a superman.

“You really think he’s a threat, dad?” Tim asked. “Because I can take care of it. I can have him eliminated. Ra's al ghul owes me a favor. It’ll look like an accident,” He promised. “It’ll look like he just… disappeared.”

A sense of pride filled Bruce. Tim was his most capable and resourceful soldier. He would make a great batman. Any of his kids would.

Batman stared the picture of the boy on his phone as he fought the urge to crush it in his hands. “No,” he finally answered. “I’ve known plenty of rock stars and so called bad boys in my day.  Angel’s smart,” he said using Marinette’s codename. “I have been routing out indifference apathy from her life, her childhood was filled with love and affection. There are no daddy issue for his teenage talons to latch upon. Just… make sure he understands who he is dealing with.”

“Understood.” And then call ended.

           He looked up and saw all the other Justice League members staring at him with expressions of awe, fear, and confusion.

“…Marinette’s got a new boyfriend, huh?” Diana asked when the call disconnected. Amusement in her tone, she knew Bruce would never seriously hurt a kid.

“Poor guy,” Barry said with a shake of his head.

           Clark pinched his nose, “You can’t keep scaring guys away from her forever. Eventually, she’s going to find one who isn’t afraid of you.”

“And then she’ll marry him out of spite,” Dinah added.

           There were snorts from the other league members.

“Like that’ll ever happen,” Oliver said with a shake of his head. “That kid would have to be the biggest moron in the universe. I’ll pity his family.”

           Marinette had constantly warned Luka about how overprotective her family was. Luka hadn’t thought much of it. He dealt with overprotective fathers and brothers before. Eventually they grudging begin to like him. Or realize that if they actively hated him, it would just make the girl get attached.

           He was excited for Christmas, excited to prove himself to the girl of his dreams, and impress her by dealing with her entire family. Luka didn’t understand why Adrien looked so afraid when he told him. Or why he asked what type of flowers he liked.

“For the funeral,” Adrien shrugged. “I need to know what to buy.”

           Luka had laughed, thinking the blond was joking. He had already met a two of her brothers; Dick and Damian. They had been growls and threats but nothing he couldn’t handle. But Adrien didn’t laugh. He just shook his head and promised he’d be there for Juleka. Luka thought he was overreacting.

           However, nothing. NOTHING. Could have prepared Luka for the first time he met Tim.

           Luka had been walking home with Kagami, his long-time friend and one-time rival for Marinette’s affection. It was board daylight, there were tons of people around, and then they had made the apparent mistake of walking by an alley, when suddenly they were pulled into the back of a van, hoods thrown over their heads, and their hands bounds.

           He didn’t know how much time had passed. Or where they were being taken. All he saw was darkness. All he felt was fear. Was this how died?

           When the hoods were finally removed, the two teenagers found themselves in what looked to be a deserted warehouse, bound to their chairs, with a teenage boy not much older than they sitting across from them, looking absurdly comfortable given the situation.

My name is Timothy Drake-Wayne. I am Marinette’s older brother,” He said. “Let me make something clear before we begin. The last hour never happened. This conversation never happened. We never met. And if you say otherwise,” Tim’s eyes narrowed.  “No one will believe you. I was just by dozens of witnesses in Mexico with my boyfriend less than two hours ago. But if you do tell anyone, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

           They nodded not daring to say a word.

“Luka, Luka, Luka.” Tim smiled an eerie grin that should look more at home on the monsters from Horror movies, and not on such a handsome face. “I hear you’ll be visiting us over the holidays. Must be so exciting for you, meeting your girlfriend’s family. Are you excited, Luka?”

           Luka swallowed hard. He never thought he’d hate the way his own name sounded. “I was- I mean I am. I am.”

“Good,” Tim said. “I just wanted to offer you a bit of advice. So you can know to expect. You see it call all be a bit… daunting to newcomers. Some people don’t understand the Wayne family’s unique tastes. Okay?”

           He nodded.

           Tim still smiled. In fact he never lost his smile the entire time. Yet his eyes were empty like there was no real life in them. “When you first come to my home, you will see the bone carving over the doorway. It will be hard, but try not to imagine your own femurs so expertly carved.”

           At this Kagami’s eyes widened. She had done her best to remain calm but somethings were too much.

           Tim smile widened, “There are one or two rooms you will not be allowed in. However, accidents happen and we understand. But we do ask that you pay no attention to our… ample crawl space. Or the smells that can sometime come from it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luka stuttered. “Sure, no problem. Man.”

“Try not to go into Father’s playroom,” Tim continued on. “It will be easy to spot. It’s mostly empty, apart from a rubber mat and a drain. He gets so testy when stranger go in there. You’ll hear strange noise from time to time but just ignore them. That is just father… playing.”

           The green-haired boy just stared. Because what the fuck.

“Just follow that advice, and you should be fine,” Tim promised. “Though you are a pretty one.  You both are. And we like pretty ones. Oh the things we do to pretty ones”

Luka whimpered. Kagami felt tears build in her eyes.

           Tim laughed, “Now, now, none of that,” He said channeling his inner Brucie. “We’re not going to hurt. We’d never hurt Marinette’s friends.” He promised. “We would hurt people who hurt Marinette because people who hurt Marinette are not her friends.”

           Red Robin looked over the two, “What I’m trying to say is. Break my sister’s heart, and we will kill you. I will kill you. You won’t see if coming. You won’t know we’re there. And if you’re lucky, you might not even feel it. Clear?” They nodded. “Excellent. Now you’re going to leave the same way you came. Remember not a word.” He smiled got even bigger.

           They felt hands on their shoulders.

“Oh and Kagami,” Tim’s voice rang. “Should romantic feelings spring to life between you and Marinette again, just know our sister Cassandra is much scarier than I. And a much better shot.”

           Then the black hoods and complete darkness came gain.

           When they were finally let go, in the exact same place they had been taken, neither Luka nor Kagami spoke for what seemed like forever. Their minds still wrapping around what had just taken place. However, it was Kagami who finally broke the quiet.

“Well, it appears I dodge a bullet, huh,” She shrugged, her face not betraying the fear she still felt. “Sucks for you. I’m going to go propose to Chloe. I know can I take her mom in a fight. And that she’s not a serial killer.” Kagami then gave him a grave look. “Happy holiday, Luka. I’ll send best flowers to your funeral.” And the she was gone, literally fleeing down the crowded street, leaving Luka alone with his thoughts and sense of his impending doom.

           He broke up with Marinette an hour later.

           It would take weeks before he would willingly be in a room with her again.

Kaldur'ahm: The Boy who regretted ever walking on land.

           Marinette had met her next boyfriend through her brother Tim. Ironic, considering she had just found out what he did to Luka. She had gone in for some extra training with the Black Canary when she spotted him. Kaldur; aqualad. Marinette had never talked too much with him before but found he was a very calm person and level-headed. A good leader, no matter how much Tim complained.

           They had spared together one day. And another. And Another. Then he asked her out. It was sweet… While it lasted. And it didn’t last long.

           Batman had looked at Kaldur’s picture, scoffed, and said, “Jason?”

           The sound of a gun clocking was heard, “Little Mermaids going down.”

           Unlike his brothers, Redhood had no time for mind games. He went for the quickest route.

           Aquaman burst into room where the justice league meeting was, “He shot Kaldur,” He roared to Batman. “The Red Hood shot Aqualad!”

           Bruce didn’t bat an eye, “Is he alive?”

“Yes,” The King of the seas said quickly. “But that’s not point.”

“Seems like it is,” Bruce said and went on with the meeting leaving a stuttering, red-faced Aquaman still standing there.

It was to one’s surprise when Kaldur dumped Marinette and was gone. Disappeared to the safety of Atlantis. And when he came back, Marinette was barred from Young Justice Headquarters.

It was on that day, that Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Wayne decided enough was enough.

 Roy Harper-Queen: The Boy who should start making better life choices

           It was weird to say but Marinette met the boy who would turn out to be the love of her life when she was ten-years-old. And then sometime after her eighteenth birthday, she would team up with his clone to go rescue him. They became friends, went on missions together. It was a year later that he asked her out.

           Roy was pissed at the world, ready to die for anything if it meant he’d went fight, had a rude mouth, feared nothing and no one, and didn’t play by anyone’s rule but his own. In other words, he was perfect.

           Marinette just never meant to fall in love. She certainly didn’t expect to say yes when proposed.

           They had been keeping their relationship a secret from both their families for over two years. They were happy together. They loved each other.

           But more importantly, they could plot revenge together.

           And revenge was sweet.

           It all played out during a Justice League meeting. Roy, Red Arrow, and Ladybug had been full members for quite some time. The meeting was just about to close, when Roy stood up, “I have an announcement to make,” He said. “Red Arrow will be withdrawing from missions for the perceivable future. As will Ladybug,” He looked at Marinette who nodded firmly.

“What’s going on, Roy?” Oliver asked his once wayward son, with a frown.

           Batman eyed them suspiciously. As did the other members of the batfamily, all were present. Apart from Alfred because Marinette liked Alfred.

           Wonder Woman frowned, “Are you going solo again, I thought you were happy.”

“We’re fine. We’re very happy,” Roy said slowly before taking a deep breath and doing the bravest thing he ever would in his entire life. “Ladybug’s pregnant and I’m the father.”

           A few seconds passed before the words were processed in the Superheroes mind.

           Bruce’s eyes widened, his mind stopped working, and then a snarl ripped form his throat as he moved to attack. The batkids joining him.

“Alpha Code Angelbug” Flash shouted.

           That was all the other league need to go into defensive positions around Roy, against the batfamily. Marinette remained where she was with glee in her eyes. Superman stood in front of Roy, blocking him from view and potential danger.

           The Flash, Cyborg, Black Canary, Wonder Woman, and the Green Arrow stood in front of them. Oliver aimed at arrow at Batman, “Don’t move!” He yelled. “Don’t you dare move, Bruce. I’ll do it. Roy’s my son. And I won’t let you hurt him.”

           Batman growled, “He. I. My daughter!”

“Get Roy out of here, Superman,” Wonder Woman ordered. “We’ll hold him off but we can’t do it for long.” She stepped towards Bruce. “Marinette’s a grown woman. She makes her own choices.”

           Dick shook his head, anger clear on his face, “Dude, you were my friend.”

           Damian snarled, “Harper’s a sneak and a coward.”

“No honor,” Cassandra agreed.

           Jason just looked at his best friend, “I love you…. But you’re dead.”

           Tim just growled.

“No one’s dead or dying,” Marinette said as got up. “Because I’m not pregnant,” She said loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. She walked to her boyfriend and pulled him out from behind his shield. “But Roy and I have been dating for almost three years. And we’re getting married. You can be happy for us. Or I can never talk to you again.”

           Roy grinned, “Pops,” he said to Oliver, whose face was torn between relief and fury at it was prank. “We thought you and Bruce could be the main wedding planners. With the rest of the Queens and Waynes helping out; you know now that we’re going to be family. ”

           With that the two lovebird left the room, leaving the chaos they had created.

           Silence filled the room as Batman and Green Arrow stared at the other.

           Oliver gulped. He let out a breathy chuckle, “So I think a wedding in Star City would be great. Lots of Lilies. The Queen family loves lilies.”

           Batman’s eyes narrowed, “Gotham, roses.”

           Black Canary crossed her arms, “Star City would be safer.”

“Gotham is far more beautiful,” Tim snapped back.

           And just like that, battle lines were drawn. Justice League members’ face turned weary.

           Whether they knew it or not, that was Marinette and Roy’s last act of revenge.

           Forget Batman vs Superman.

           Try Bruce Wayne versus Oliver Queen: billionaire against billionaire, father against father. Elsewhere, thousands of journalist, photographers, florists, and caterers trembled and they didn’t know why.

#LadyArrow #Marienette Dupain Cheng #Marinette deserves better #batfamily #oliver queen #roy harper #Tim Drake #cassandra cain #dick grayson #damian wayne #jason todd #ml fic #ml salt #vixen-uchiha

[yandere-society]

True Love

Prompt: Can I have a delusional Jungkook who is obsessed with fairytales and the whole idea of “prince meets princess and falling in love at first sight”, and is convinced that y/n is the princess and he has to “save” her in order to achieve a happen ending?

Admin: @psycho-slytherin 🐍

Warnings: Yandere-themes, stalking-themes, and profanity.

»»————-　♔　————-««

It was all coming together. Jungkook swiped through his phone, checking and rechecking his plans. Tomorrow, between 9:14 and 9:18 AM– depending on foot traffic– she’d round the eastern corner of 14th and Park. She’d be carrying her purse and a coffee, but she’d be finishing her drink by the time she reached the corner. The point, the most crucial part, is that her hands would be full. He’d bump into her, she wouldn’t be able to catch herself, and he’d swoop her up before she fell. She’d have to fall in love with her Prince Charming, and he’d, at last, have his princess. His y/n. Everything would be perfect.

They were destined to be together– Soulmates, Jungkook was sure, he’d known it since he’d first laid eyes on y/n. She was his true love. 

»»————-　♔　————-««

You check your watch, careful not to twist your wrist enough to spill your coffee. 9:12. Finally, it looks like you’ll get to work early today! With a spring in your step, you weave through the usual crowd of hurried suits and turn the corner. You have a meeting that you’ve been preparing ages for, and you’re thinking of nothing but your various talking points, everything you’re going to present, when–

“Oof!” You bump into someone, hard, and lose your balance. Shit, shit, your hands are full. You drop your coffee and purse in an attempt to catch yourself, but instead of solid concrete, you feel the contact of strong arms holding you tightly.

“Are you alright?” You look up at your rescuer and see gorgeous dark eyes full of soft concern. The stranger helps you to your feet and hands you your purse. “That was quite a fall.”

“Ah, thank you– I’m okay. Appreciate it, man.” You breathe deeply to calm your pounding heart. The handsome stranger seems to be waiting for something. What else can you say? “Er… thanks again.” With that, you turn and begin walking to work, your pace increasing. Dammit, you really hope this won’t make you late. 

“W-Wait!” The stranger grasps at your wrist, his eyes bright, his voice revealing an emotion you can’t understand. “Do you believe in… love at first sight?”

“Uh…” Aaaand he’s crazy. You pull your arm from his grip and hurry away, flustered. Love at first sight? What fairy-tale bullshit. Sure, he’s cute, but the creepy-to-cuteness factor is way off balance in this case. Love at first sight… When you were a kid, you dreamed of being a princess and riding off into your happily ever after. But you’ve grown up since then, and you know fairy tales aren’t real.

You glance backward. He’s staring after you, and you feel a rush of guilt. He looks like a kicked puppy… or a wounded prince.

Prince? “Gah– stop it!” You scold yourself, blinking hard. The guy messed with your head, distracted you with that love-at-first-sight stuff. Whatever, you’ll forget about it soon enough. In the meantime, you’ve got your meeting to think about.

“And now I believe y/n, head of our innovation department, has the latest proposal?”

You stand. “Yes, thank you. With help from our customer surveys, we’ve noticed there are a few flaws in our current system.”

“Do you believe in… love at first sight?”

“We, uh, have devised a few options: First, we could begin requiring browser logins and game downloads for individual accounts– that will cut down on incidents such as the one that went viral last quarter. Additionally, we could consider removing ourselves from the browser-based gaming market entirely and shift to a downloaded application-type medium. We predict a decrease in traffic but profits should remain largely steady–”

His eyes, his lips, his hands, his skin, his voice...

“Due to ad revenue and potential membership opportunities.” You continue. “We could also consider discounted subscription packages, which seemed popular in our surveys.”

He was really cute. Maybe you were too hasty? You don’t even know his name.

“...We believe that changing the medium of the game presentation will improve security, decrease online harassment, and increase profits within the next three quarters. I will now take questions.”

Usually, creeps gave off a vibe, the type of thing you could sense right away. This guy didn’t give you that vibe.

“Very well said, y/n.” The company president clapped several times. “What software changes do you propose making for this to work?”

You beam. “It’s rather simple, we only need to move our content offline to an external database– we already have games in development using this system. The cost for the whole switch would be a fraction of potential profits.”

“Do you believe in… love at first sight?”

“The board members will give it some thought, y/n, and I’d be very optimistic. Great work.”

Yes! “Thank you.”

At the end of the day, you leave the office grinning. The meeting went really well, and if you pull off this project, you’re certain to be looking at a promotion. You’ve been working on the proposal for three months and now that it’s looking so good, you could sing.

“Y/n?”

At the summons, you turn around– and then stop dead. “You again.”

And it is the love-at-first-sight stranger from the morning. He waves awkwardly, breaking into a cute bunny-like smile. “Hi.”

“H-hi.” You brush some hair out of your face, suddenly self-conscious. “Uh, how did you know my name?”

The guy winks. “Magic.”

“Or stalking.”

“Or…” The guy hands you a business card. Your business card. “Maybe you dropped this in the morning.”

»»————-　♔　————-««

In truth, Jungkook had your business card for a few months. He couldn’t say that, though, and he needed an excuse to know your name and place of business.

You look at him with your beautiful doe eyes, the kind of eyes that a man would kill to protect. “Why were you waiting for me?”

Jungkook smiles. “I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier. I saw you dropped your card and, well… it seemed like a second chance.” A chance to be your prince, my love.

“Oh.”

“I’m Jeon Jungkook by the way.”

You smile shyly, that smile he’s seen a hundred thousand times, directed at everyone but him. You’re active on your social media accounts, and he’s seen all your photos. When you’re with your friends, your family, even today at your meeting– when you smile, you shine, a princess without a throne. It’s one of the things Jungkook loves about you. He can’t wait until your smile for him alone.

“I’m y/n. But I guess you knew that.”

“I did. Y/n, I’ll be honest, and I hope this doesn’t come off as too forward.” Jungkook leans towards you, his princess– his queen. “I’d love to get to know you better.”

“Um…” You hesitate, and a hint of fear makes its way up Jungkook’s spine. He really hopes you don’t reject him. In the months since he’s first noticed you, you’ve remained single. If you were to reject him, he couldn’t leave you to prance around in front of other men. If you, Jungkook’s princess, didn’t want his love, well… something would have to be done about that.

“Sure. That sounds cool.” You nod, a light blush coloring your cheeks. 

Something akin to joy floods Jungkook’s psyche. The first step achieved. She said yes– she must see that what they have is true love. 

Jungkook has always loved fairy tales. He was teased as a kid for how much he enjoyed princess stories. But Jungkook’s mom made it clear that she didn’t like him, and his dad was rarely around– unless he came home to berate Jungkook. No one could blame him for yearning for true love; it’s not like he ever experienced it at home. When he first saw you, he knew you were his princess. He needed to rescue you, sweep you off your feet, and carry you off into your happily ever after. True love is real, and you’ll help him prove it. The characters in Disney movies were happy after finding each other. He knows you’ll make him feel happy. In fact, he’ll make sure of it.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Well, he’s cute, and he did return your business card. You’ll be careful. What harm can come from a date?

Later that night, you’re catching up on some work. The company president said he’d have the board’s answer on your proposal by next week, and since it seemed like a sure thing, you’re anxious to get the OK to move ahead with the project.

Your phone buzzes.

Jeon Jungkook: Are we on for Friday at six, milady? [10:43]

Y/n: Haha yep, see you then! [10:43]

Jeon Jungkook: Can’t wait :) [10:43]

Jeon Jungkook: What are you up to? [10:44]

Y/n: Just organizing resources for a project [10:45]

Y/n: I’ve been working really hard on it [10:45]

»»————-　♔　————-««

Oh, Jungkook knows. He’s a decent hacker. When you were out drinking with friends last month, he accessed your laptop and installed a backdoor program that lets him see whatever you’re doing on your computer. It’s been useful: he knows about your work projects; the failed first dates; your porn preferences; your email contacts. He just wanted to make sure you weren’t cheating on him. Perfect princesses don’t cheat, and he knows you’re his perfect princess.

Friday arrives. Even though it’s only been a few days since he asked you out, Jungkook has been waiting for months to finally sweep you off your feet. It’ll be amazing. He walks up to the door, the details of which he’s practically memorized, and knocks. Three grand knocks, just like he’d imagined.

“Half a moment!” Your sweet voice floats from inside the house. Jungkook presses his lips together– do you even know how beautiful, how kind, how regal you are? 

And when you swing the door open, his heart aches with desire. He can’t wait to possess you entirely. You’re wearing what Jungkook has to assume is your favorite light pink dress. You wore it to your birthday dinner four months ago, and again to your friend’s wedding three weeks ago. He hasn’t seen you wear this dress on other dates, though– does that make Jungkook special? He knew it. You do believe in love at first sight. You see the same thing he does: you’re destined to be soulmates.

“Your highness,” Jungkook says, holding out his arm.

You giggle and take his offered arm. Jungkook knows you think you’re just playing along with a joke. It’ll take a bit of time to introduce you to his royal fantasy– you don’t know you’re already Jungkook’s princess. But you will. Oh, you will.

»»————-　♔　————-««

The date goes surprisingly well. You haven’t been having good luck with dating lately, and you can actually see Jungkook being the one to break your dry spell. He’s a perfect gentleman, respectful and humorous. He continues to call you milady and your highness, and it’s cute, honestly. He makes you feel so special, almost like a princess.

“Thanks for tonight, Jungkook,” you say as he walks you to your door. “You finding my business card ended up being a pretty great coincidence.”

“I agree. I’m glad you decided to go out with me, y/n. I hope we can do this again.”

You nod. “Definitely.”

You smile as you change into your pajamas. You’re excited to see what Jeon Jungkook has in store. Before you get into bed, you open your laptop and notice a new email from the company president. Yes! Have you finally gotten the go-ahead and funding for the project you’ve poured yourself into?

Y/n, the email reads. I wish I had better news to give. The board declined your recent project proposal. Don’t let this discourage you from continuing to do great work! I’ll see you on Monday.

You sit back, slack-jawed, and rub your eyes. What? But… but it was looking so good. You worked so hard. What did you do wrong?

»»————-　♔　————-««

Jungkook frowns, looking at your computer screen on his phone. He’s still sitting in his car, parked around the block from your home. He knows how much you cared about getting this project approved. And this, this board. They kept his princess from achieving her goals. He blinks once, twice. Surely you’ll love him if he gets the board members to change their minds, if you realized he’d do anything for you. Jungkook turns the key in the ignition and drives home, thinking about how he can cheer you up. The individual board members are named on your company’s website– perhaps he’ll pay them a visit.

»»————-　♔　————-««

That night, you can’t sleep. This proposal was a display of your hard work, all the thought you’d put into making the company more successful. It was supposed to be a straight line to a promotion. The night started off so well, your date with Jungkook was so fun. Ugh. You bury your face in your pillow. How will you face your team members on Monday? And the board members. You know some of them don’t like you– you’re too determined, too innovative for a woman. 

How you wish you could show them.

Whatever. It’s just one more failure. You’ll start brainstorming new proposals tomorrow. 

You spend the rest of the evening tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling, and sulking. The weekend passes much in the same way. You’re not one to get discouraged, but it’s hard to feel hopeful. If the project had been approved, your responsibilities and funding would have shifted into seeing it through for at least the next year. Monday morning, you’re headed out the door when you get a text.

Jungkook: When can I see you again? [8:35]

Y/n: Want to grab dinner after work? I get off at 5. Shall we say 6:30? [8:36]

Jungkook: Your wish is my command. Have a good day at work ;) [8:36]

Y/n: Yeah fat chance [8:37]

»»————-　♔　————-««

What you don’t know, Jungkook decides, wiping a bit of something red off his cheek, won’t hurt you. You wanted this project– and your knight in shining armor will ensure you get it.

»»————-　♔　————-««

“Y/n, can I see you in my office for a moment?” 

“Hm? Uh, yes. Sure.” You follow the president into his office.

“How are you doing?” He asks as he settles into his chair. You sit across the desk from him. “I know how hard you worked on that project– it’s okay to be upset.”

You straighten up in your chair. “I’m fine, sir. Just focusing on moving forward.”

“That’s good. Well, I’ve actually got some surprising news for you today. Three board members– that is, the three that voted down your proposal– contacted me separately over the weekend to let me know they changed their minds.”

“I- I’m sorry, what?”

“Your proposal has been unanimously approved, y/n. Congratulations. I’m excited to see where your vision will take this company.” The president reaches across the desk and shakes your hand. You can only stare, half euphoric, half numb. “You will, of course, be transferred along with your team to the advanced development department. I’ll have the paperwork ready for you by the end of the day.”

“Okay! Uh… thank you.” You break into a radiant grin. “Thank you so much, sir!”

“Don’t thank me, the board members made their decisions. That being said, you really deserve this. Good luck.”

You practically skip out of your boss’s office. You did it! You knew the meeting went well, they just needed more time! You did it!

That evening, you hum to yourself as you put on your makeup. Jungkook will be here soon, and you’re really excited to see him. Even though you told him you could meet at the restaurant, he insisted on picking you up. What a gentleman. 

Three knocks at the door. “Coming~” you sing as you pad into the hall.

“You look beautiful, y/n,” Jungkook murmurs as you swing open the door.

“Oh stop it, charmer!” You laugh, swishing your skirt like it was a ballgown. 

“You’re in a good mood today, what happened?”

“My project got approved! The board changed their minds. Isn’t that great?”

Jungkook laughs. “That’s fantastic! Congrats!”

On impulse, you throw your arms around him and hug him tightly. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

You snuggle into his shoulder. “For being so nice. For making me feel like a princess.”

You’re so preoccupied with how good Jungkook smells that you don’t notice him tugging his jacket up to cover a red stain on his sleeve. 

“I’ll always be your prince, milady.” 

»»————-　♔　————-««

This is true love, Jungkook thinks. We’ll get our happily ever after.

#yandere bts #yandere #yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #yandere!jungkook #yandere!bts #bts #BTS jungkook #jungkook #yandere-society

[openheartchoices]

Fake (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Olivia Summers)

Words: 4.9k words

Warnings: some family angst.

Summary: Olivia needs to prove to her family that she can, in fact, get a boyfriend. Even if it’s fake.

A/N: hi guys! So I took a month off from writing. It started because of some health issues, I’m perfectly fine now, but when I sat down to write, I decided to take more time off to get more inspiration and creativity flowing through me because it was nonexistent. However, I’m here now, and I have so much to get done, and I’m happy to be back! lots of love and happy reading! <3

“Does seven work? I figured that should be enough time for everyone to get settled in. I don't even know how you convinced Mom and Dad to come up here,” Olivia told her sister through the phone.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Octavia replied. “It wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be. They complained about having to take time off from work, but I eventually talked them into it.” She paused for a minute. “Are you bringing anyone tonight?”

“To dinner?” Olivia asked. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“I just assumed you’d have a guy for us to meet. You haven’t introduced us to one since, how long ago? When you were in college?”

Olivia frowned. As much as she hated to admit it, her younger sister was right. The last guy that Olivia had brought home to meet her family was during her senior year of college. The guy had terrible manners, eyed Octavia the entire duration of dinner, and sneezed into her brother’s plate of food. Needless to say, she never brought him around again and broke up with him.

She’d been on a few dates through medical school, but it had never went anywhere. Olivia hadn’t even tried to put herself out there because of a certain doctor that she couldn’t, and didn’t, want to get rid of.

However, Olivia wasn’t going to let her family believe that she, at age twenty-eight, was unable to get a boyfriend. Octavia was already married with a daughter while her brother was about to graduate from college still in a steady relationship with the girl he had been dating since he was sixteen. She had to look like somewhat had her life together.

“I do have a boyfriend,” Olivia spoke up, hoping that this wouldn’t backfire on her. “It’s fairly new though.”

She could almost see Octavia’s amusement through the phone. “Really? Because I just asked if you were bringing anyone, and you said no.”

“This is a family dinner. You’re not even bringing your own husband, Octavia, and Oliver said that Camila wasn’t coming. I thought it was just going to be us.”

“My own husband isn’t coming, Olivia, because I have a baby at home that I don’t want to keep in the car for a long drive to Boston. Camila isn’t coming because she’s not even in the country right now. I’m pretty sure that everyone would be glad if you brought someone,” Octavia replied.

Olivia cleared her throat. “Well, he works a lot, and I didn’t give him any notice because I wasn’t aware this dinner was an excuse for everyone to harass me on my love life. He probably can’t make it.”

“Ask him anyway. Where does he work?”

Olivia froze. Where did her fake boyfriend work? What was a job that required many hours? She had to think of a profession quickly, but only one thing came to mind. “Um, Edenbrook.”

“Oh, he works with you? Well, what does he do?” Octavia was firing questions off left and right.

“He, uh, does what any doctor does, Octavia,” Olivia said, trying to keep herself calm.

She knew this probably wasn’t a good idea. Olivia knew she didn’t have a love life. The closest thing to a love life she had was Ethan who, might she add, had just gotten back from the Amazon, and he still hadn’t spoken more than a few formal and professional sentences to her.

Octavia wasn’t giving up though. “What’s his name?”

Before Olivia could think, she blurted out, “Ethan.”

“Great! I feel like I know him already,” Octavia teasingly said. “I’ll see both of you at dinner.”

Olivia couldn’t get another word in before Octavia ended the call. She looked around the locker room she stood in to make sure that no one else heard the phone call before running a hand through her hair.

She couldn’t believe she had just basically implied that she was dating her boss. Octavia would know she was lying if she showed up to dinner without a doctor named Ethan by her side, but Olivia also knew it was going to be entirely hard, and a little crazy, to get Ethan to come to a family dinner and pretend to be her boyfriend.

On another note, Ethan and Olivia weren’t even on good terms. Or at least that’s what Olivia thought. Ethan had disappeared without a word to the Amazon with zero contact the entire time he was gone. She had spoken to him briefly, but it was like he had put a wall up around himself.

Olivia glanced down to the time on her phone. Dinner was at seven, her shift had just ended, and she had two hours to get back to the apartment, get ready, and make it on time. The tricky part was going to be to ask Ethan to come to dinner with her.

She left the locker room having changed out of her scrubs. Wringing her hands nervously together and walking around, Olivia looked everywhere in an attempt to find her fake boyfriend, hoping that he was on the same floor currently and that she wouldn’t have to track him down or run to his office.

Luckily for her, she caught him coming out of a room and reviewing charts at the perfect time. Clearing her throat, she ran a hand through her messy hair and made her way over to him.

He still hadn’t noticed her, his eyes glued to the paper in front of him. “Dr. Ramsey, do you have a minute?”

Ethan glanced at her before closing the chart, giving Olivia his full attention. “What is it, Summers?”

People were walking all around them, making Olivia slightly nervous to ask him what she needed to. “Can we talk, like, not in the middle of everyone?”

He frowned and crossed his arms. “I don’t have time to-“

“Please?”

All it took was one look at her pleading face before Ethan sighed. “Fine. Lead the way.”

Olivia led him into the closest on-call room. The room was especially dark, and neither of them bothered to turn a light on. She turned to him, suddenly feeling even more nervous now that they were alone.

“What time is your shift over?”

Ethan glanced down at his watch. “Fifteen minutes ago. I was on my way to my office to get some work done before you dragged me in here.”

“Sorry,” she grimaced. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“I just told you I was going to do some work I’m behind on. Why?” He asked slowly, realizing that there was something going on that he didn’t know about.

Looking anywhere but his eyes, Olivia said, “Would you want to come to dinner with me tonight?”

Ethan, still not sure what was going on, raised his eyebrows, urging her to keep going.

“And my family?”

“Why do you want me to come to dinner with you and your family? I thought your family was in North Carolina. What are they doing in Boston?”

Olivia sighed. “They came to visit me. I sort of, maybe, kind of… told my sister I had a boyfriend.”

That caught his attention. “Since when do you have a boyfriend?”

“That’s the thing,” she continued. “I don’t. But I may or may not have told her that his name is Ethan, and he’s a doctor at Edenbrook, so it would be really great if you could, y’know, come to dinner, pretend to be my boyfriend for a little bit, and then we’ll never have to bring this up again.”

Ethan looked at the blonde doctor incredulously. “You told your sister that we’re dating?”

Olivia opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Well, I- not exactly. She doesn’t know who you are.” She took one more look at Ethan’s face before deciding to not defend herself further. “Okay, yeah, I told my sister that we’re dating.”

“Why would you tell your sister that we’re together? Olivia, you can’t live out a lie,” Ethan scolded her, making her start to feel guilty. “A small lie always turns into an even bigger lie."

Olivia bit her lip. “I haven’t had one good thing to tell my family about since I started working here. My sister’s been married for a year and just had a baby. My brother will be graduating from Columbia which is the same school my grandfather and my dad went to. It’s a big deal in our house. I know that lying to my family isn’t okay, but I need something to look like I’m not a major loser and that I have something good going for me besides work.”

Ethan still hadn’t said anything which was making Olivia worried. The last thing she wanted to do was tell her sister she was, indeed, lying. If Ethan didn’t come to this dinner and pretend just for her, she didn’t know what she going to do.

She stepped closer, laid a hand on his chest, and looked up at him. “Please, Ethan?”

The older doctor sighed. Olivia couldn’t tell what was going on his mind until he removed her hand and stepped back, clearing his throat. “You shouldn’t have to lie to your family. Just tell them it was a misunderstanding. They’re your family. They’ll understand if you tell them what you just told me.”

Olivia huffed. “Okay, I understand. I’ll just go ask Bryce to pretend his name is Ethan for the night. I’m sure he’d be more than willing to help me out. Have a great rest of your day, Dr. Ramsey.”

Olivia walked around him with a smirk on her face that she hid from him. In her head, she counted down the seconds until he finally yelled out, “Wait.”

With her hand wrapped around the door knob, she kept her back to him. “Yes?”

“Lahela is not going to pretend to be me. I’ll go to the dinner, but this is a one-time thing, Rookie.”

Olivia grinned as she turned around. She knew pulling the Bryce card would work. “Thank you so much. Can you pick me up? We’ll look more legit if we show up together.”

“I can do that,” Ethan sighed, still not liking the idea of lying. “What time?”

“Around six forty. The restaurant is just a few minutes down the road from my apartment. Can you text me when you get there? Sienna, Elijah, Jackie, and Aurora are all working tonight, and I’m particularly terrible at hearing anyone outside.”

Grimacing, Ethan said, “I hate texting.”

“Then call me, email me, or whatever, but know that I really appreciate this, Ethan. I’m just asking for tonight,” she said softly.

She wouldn’t lie and say that a small part of her wasn’t overjoyed with the fact that she was going to get to pretend she was dating Ethan Ramsey. Many people would be overjoyed with the situation she was in. It somehow felt real to her even though it was so far from being reality.

However, for the night, she could pretend that this was her life.

**

“Shoes, shoes, shoes. Where did I put my shoes?” Olivia frantically muttered to herself, pacing all around her bedroom in an attempt to find the wedges she had thought she laid on her bed only minutes earlier.

After finally finding them, she slipped them on with ease as her phone dinged. Olivia assumed it was Ethan, but then again, he did hate texting. With one quick glance to her phone that laid beside her, she did read a short text from Ethan saying he was outside.

She took one more good, quick glance in the mirror. Olivia did have to admit that she had outdone herself. Dinner was at a new Italian restaurant that wasn’t relatively a place that required a lot of effort on appearance. However, she did want to look nice considering everything including not only impressing her parents, but Ethan as well.

Olivia rushed out of her bedroom to open the apartment door with ease. Ethan stood outside, his left hand fumbling over the sleeve of his sweater. He glanced up when she finally opened the door. “Ready?”

She nodded as they stepped outside. Olivia locked the door back before dropping her keys down into her purse. “Let’s go.”

“You, uh, look nice,” Ethan awkwardly commented.

Olivia grinned. “Thanks. You look nice, too.”

Olivia was a little proud of herself. In record time, she had managed to pull together a cute outfit consisting of a light pink dress and a thick, white cardigan over it to shield her from the cold January air. She had straightened her hair rather than curl it as usual, and surprisingly, she didn’t hate it.

Another thing she found that she didn’t hate was Ethan opening up her car door. She gave him a confused look, but smiled nonetheless. “Well, thanks. Do you know how long it’s been since someone has opened a car door for me?”

He laughed. “No, I don’t.”

Olivia settled into the leather seat as she rubbed her cold hands together in an attempt to get some blood flowing to them. She unlocked her phone to reveal a missed call from Octavia and then a text from her that told Olivia that she was almost there.

“So,” Ethan said as he started up the car, “tell me what I need to know.”

Olivia furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

He started backing up. “If I’m going to be your fake boyfriend, I’m going to need to know your family.”

“Um, there’s my sister, Octavia. She’s three years younger than me. She’s a teacher, married, and just had a baby. Then there’s my brother, Oliver. He’s a senior at Columbia and majoring in political science. My mom’s a photographer and my dad is a lawyer,” she told him. “Oh, and they don’t know about my hearing that happened a while back, so please don’t bring that up. Also, don’t mention that you’re my boss. Oh! And don’t tell them-“

“Okay!” He cut her off. “I get it. So basically, don’t bring up anything that would make them frown upon you?”

“Yes! Exactly,” Olivia replied, patting his on the shoulder. “That’s exactly right.”

“Why didn’t you tell them about your hearing?” He asked, glancing over at her out of the corner of his eye.

Olivia sighed. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just that I’ve brought them nothing but bad news for years. If they found out about what a mess my intern year was then it would be nothing but more disappointment from them. I’m tired of never giving them anything good.”

“It’s not bad news. You have bad days and bad times. It’s what makes you human. You can’t be perfect.”

“That’s coming from someone who’s practically perfect himself,” Olivia pointed out.

Ethan laughed. “I’m far from perfect. I’ve made my fair share of mistakes. You have your whole life and your whole career ahead of you, Liv. It’s okay to make mistakes. Live a little instead of caring about what everyone thinks about you.”

A moment of silence passed by as Olivia sat in the passenger seat, looking out the window at the passing town and not saying a word until warmth flashed through her hand that rested on the edge of her seat. She didn’t even have to look down because she already knew what the warmth was.

“We aren’t in public yet. You don’t have to hold my hand,” she joked.

“I know. I just want to.”

Olivia turned her head while biting back the large smile growing on her face. However, she couldn’t hold it in. Even if the circumstances were a little odd, this was all Olivia wanted out of the doctor sitting across from her. She knew he wanted it, too, even if he was less vocal about it. Actions spoke louder than words, and that’s what Olivia gathered from Ethan in the time she had known him.

“That’s it up ahead,” Olivia told him. “Turn right.”

Ethan pulled into the restaurant, reluctantly letting go of Olivia hand. He looked over to Olivia who he could tell was silently flipping out. “Olivia?”

“Yes?”

“Are we going to go inside or just sit here?”

She pondered for a moment. “We could just sit here.”

Olivia eventually did get out of the car, her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She walked alongside Ethan in the dark into the bright room of the restaurant, trying her hardest to not let her nerves get the best of her.

Frowning, Ethan asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just haven’t seen my parents since my medical school graduation. Just flipping out a little bit. I’m fine,” Olivia rambled.

She hadn’t been home to see her parents since making the move to Boston while her parents hadn’t been to Boston to see her since she had moved. Olivia had seen her sister who made sure to come visit every so often while she saw her brother quite often considering he was just a few hours away at Columbia.

Her and her parents rarely kept in touch. A few awkward phone calls, texts, and emails here and there, but it was only ever Olivia making the effort to keep in touch. She was sure that if she stopped reaching out to them, they’d never talk to her again.

Spotting her sister’s dyed, chestnut hair, her brother’s messy blonde curls, and two strict faces, Olivia knew that was the table she had been looking for. Reluctantly, she grabbed Ethan’s hand, leading him on the way over.

Her sister was the first to notice Olivia when she finally got to the table. Octavia jumped up out of her seat sporting a large grin on her face as her arms wrapped tightly around her big sister. “It’s so good to see you!”

Olivia pulled away from her sister and smiled. “Your hair looks so good in person. I love it.”

“Thank you. It took many appointments to get it to this color, but I love it,” Octavia replied before her eyes darted over to Ethan who stood behind Olivia. She looked to Olivia with excitement, lowering her voice. “I thought you were just making him up. I approve already. Just look at the way he’s standing. He’s very attractive. You did really well on-“

“Okay, Octavia,” Olivia cut her off with a chuckle, “you’re married with a baby, for one, and two, I was not making him up. He’s very real.”

Octavia threw her hands up in surrender. “Okay, fine.”

Oliver was the next to throw Olivia into a warm hug. “Good to see you, Liv.”

Olivia repeated the same before pulling back from her brother. She cleared her throat in an attempt to get her family’s attention. “I have someone I’d like for you all to meet. This is Ethan.”

She pulled at Ethan’s arm to guide him up to stand beside her. With his hands in his pockets, he announced. “It’s really nice to meet Olivia’s family after hearing her talk so much about you all.”

Olivia had to admit that she was impressed. He was really playing the fake boyfriend card well for not wanting to do it in the first place.

Ethan shook hands with Oliver, but Octavia pulled him into a hug while muttering something along the lines of him practically being family. Olivia wanted to dig herself into a hole at how uncomfortable Ethan probably was.

However, Ethan didn’t seem to be uncomfortable, just a little surprised, as he returned Octavia’s hug. Olivia’s parents still hadn’t said a word, but both smiled, which was surprising to Olivia, before both shaking his hand as well.

Olivia and Ethan sat down at the two empty seats across her Olivia’s parents. Octavia sat at one head of the table while Oliver sat at the other while looking at the menu.

“How are you, Olivia? You haven’t called in a while, and the last time you called, you sure didn’t mention a boyfriend,” her mother said smoothly, giving Olivia a small smile.

“Just busy, Mom,” Olivia replied. “I have a job that doesn’t give me a lot of free time.”

“Your daughter is an incredible doctor. She’s truly the bright future of Edenbrook,” Ethan piped in.

Olivia laughed gently. “You tell that to everyone.”

“Because it’s true,” he said with a soft smile, looking straight into her eyes.

Olivia thought her heart was going to stop with the look he gave her. She wasn’t sure if this was just him pretending or him being one hundred percent serious. It didn’t matter though because in that moment, Olivia felt like her and Ethan were the only people in the room.

After everyone had ordered their food and received their drinks, Octavia turned her attention on Ethan. “So how did you and Olivia meet?”

Olivia froze. She hadn’t thought to come up with a backstory of their fake relationship to Ethan. She silently prayed that he wouldn’t blank up. Ethan was good under pressure, so she shouldn’t have worried, but she really couldn’t help it.

“On her first day, she ran over to help me with a patient that had fallen unconscious to the floor. We ended up performing an emergency surgical procedure. I told her that her examination was superficial and slow,” Ethan laughed.

Olivia grinned, knowing he was telling the real story of how they met. “If I remember correctly, you also told me that my scalpel technique was ‘amateur at best’ to which I confronted you about it.”

“Yeah, I did say that, but Olivia’s come a long way since that day. She’s passionate about her work, and it’s very obvious.”

Before Olivia could say anything else, her father jumped in on the conversation. “Did you always know you wanted to be a doctor, Ethan?”

“Not always. I wanted to be a detective for a while.”

“I always told Olivia she didn’t need to be a doctor. She constantly changed her mind about what she wanted to be. Now, Oliver has always known he’s wanted to be a lawyer while Octavia has always known that teaching was what she wanted to do with her life. Olivia, well, she jumped around a lot,” her dad replied.

Ethan frowned as his eyes glanced all around the table while no one said anything. For one of the first times, Ethan couldn’t read the look on Olivia’s face. She sat completely silent, her hands fiddling with the end of her cardigan under the table.

He slowly grabbed her hand under the table, intertwined their fingers, and squeezed her hand in an effort to tell her that it was okay. Olivia, obviously grateful, squeezed back in return while their hands still laid intertwined on Olivia’s lap.

“I didn’t know, Dad, because you and Mom were pressuring me into following in Dad’s footsteps from as early as middle school. Being a doctor is what I’ve always wanted to do. I just didn’t know if I should listen to you and Mom or listen to myself for once in my life,” Olivia replied cooly, taking a sip of her water and leaning back into her chair.

Olivia’s mom nodded. “We pushed you to be the best version of yourself, Olivia. It was never meant to be something bad to make you upset. We had so much faith in you. At least Oliver carried out your dad’s legacy.”

Ethan’s eyes went wide as the entire table went silent. Anger filled him as he realized no one was going to say anything. Not even Olivia as she sunk deeper into her seat, her hair falling from being tucked behind her ears.

“Can you both just stop?” Olivia asked. “I am happy with how my life has turned out. I didn’t do it to make either of you happy. I did it for me and the opportunity to help people. Can we just have a nice dinner and not bring up how disappointed you are in me for going into a career that I have so much passion for instead of a career that I was never interested in doing in the slightest bit?”

“It’s not that we’re disappointed that you became a doctor. It’s that you were supposed to take over my firm once I retired. It was always the plan,” her dad said. “But I knew that plan was over when you got rejected from Columbia.”

“Dad, stop,” Oliver cut in. “That’s low.”

The waiter brought out the appetizers as Olivia stood up, her hand jerking from Ethan’s and all eyes on her. “Stop treating me like I’m some kind of disappointment. This is why I don’t come back home to visit. I’m going to my apartment. Have a nice night or don’t. I could care less.”

Before anyone could say anything, Olivia was already on her way to the front door. She opened it and slammed it with force. Ethan turned back to the family sitting around the table. Oliver was glaring at his father while Octavia sat with a hand on her head, avoiding any eye contact.

“You two always do this,” Octavia said quietly, finally looking up to talk to her parents. “You start up a ridiculous fight because you’re mad Olivia didn’t do what you wanted her to and then you run her away.”

“He never told her she had to leave,” her mother spoke up. “Olivia just takes this stuff to heart.”

Ethan had already had enough. He was the next to stand up, glaring at both of Olivia’s parents. “You have an amazingly brilliant, extremely gifted, and incredibly kind daughter with a big heart that sees nothing but the good in everyone. If you’d take the time to look over the fact she did what she wanted to do with her life, you’d see how special she really is. Instead of doing that, you overlook her because you’re angry she isn’t didn’t do what her father did. And, in all honesty, I can see why she wouldn’t want to carry on the family legacy, no offense, Oliver.”

“None taken,” Oliver piped in.

“The next time you want to ridicule your daughter and degrade her for no big deal, think about what you’re doing. Olivia is a kind and forgiving person, but there’s only so much you can throw her way until you’ve destroyed what’s left of your relationship with her.” With that, Ethan turned his back to the table, walking briskly to get outside and find Olivia.

He did find Olivia after searching the entire parking lot and his car for her. She was walking up the alongside the road, her hair blowing from the cold air with her arms crossed.

“Where are you going?” He asked when he had finally caught up with her.

“I’m walking home,” she responded.

Ethan grabbed her wrist, making her come to a complete stop and turn around slowly. “Let’s go back to my car. I’ll drive you home and- wait, hey, don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Olivia muttered, angrily reaching up to wipe away a tear.

“They’re not worth it, and they sure aren’t worthy of your tears, okay?” Ethan softly told her.

Ethan slowly initiated a hug, wrapping his arms around Olivia’s waist as she eventually gave in with one arm around his neck and the other under his arm, gripping the soft fabric of his sweater. She didn’t sob or scream, but rather quietly cried and basked in the comfort of the doctor in front of her.

“It isn’t fair,” Olivia whispered. “It’s been like this for as long as I can remember. I never do anything right in their eyes. I just want to be good enough for them, Ethan. Why can’t I be? I don’t get it.”

“It isn’t you, Liv. It’s them. You’re more than good enough for them. Don’t let them affect you like that. And just in case you haven’t heard it in a while, I’m proud of you for everything. Including standing up to your parents tonight,” he said.

Olivia sniffled and pulled back to look Ethan in the eyes. “Thank you. And thank you for doing this even though it was a bit of a mess. You didn’t even get to eat.”

He laughed and gave Olivia a grin. “Well, we could go back to my car instead of walking to your apartment in the middle of January, then we can go get something to eat with just us.”

“I would very much like that.”

There was still a lot to discuss between the two of them, Olivia knew that, but she held on to the bubble they were in. Talking about them would come later. But for the rest of the night, Olivia was going to go with her fake boyfriend and pretend, just for tonight, that it was reality instead of something nonexistent.

tags: @kaavyaethanramsey​ @nooruleman​ @openheart12​ @missmiimiie​ @bellcat2010​ @perriewinklenerdie​ @ethandaddyramsey​ @trappedinfandoms​ @queencarb​

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x olivia summers #choices stories you play #open heart fic #open heart choices

[mordoriscalling]

48 Weeks (4/4)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Throughout the 48 weeks that Geralt and Jaskier spend apart, their relationship develops.

Aka, part 3 of the Singer and the Sailor AU no one asked for but I wrote anyway. The events of this story happen after Stay or Sail Away but before Homecoming.

Weeks 37-48

Week 37

“I think I’m gonna write a book,” Jaskier announces.

“What about?”

“I’m not sure.”

Geralt snorts.

“I definitely have a story in me to tell,” Jaskier says defensively, “I can feel it. My music is about stories too, but I’m not ready to write a book yet.”

“When you think you’ll be ready?”

Jaskier smiles in a way that doesn’t bode well. ��Maybe after my dear White Wolf tells me of all his sea adventures.”

Geralt does not like the implications of this. “No.”

“Geralt!” Jaskier whines, “You wound me! First you bewitch me body and soul, and now–”

“Don’t quote Pride and Prejudice at me, it’s not working.”

Jaskier pouts. “At least one little story? Pretty please?”

Geralt sighs. He still hasn’t learned to deny Jaskier anything.

Week 38

“I know this is a weird question but... is Eskel straight?”

Geralt feels a chill down to his very bones. “What?”

“I just... need this information. I don’t want to jinx it so I won’t say anything more for now.”

Geralt clenches his jaw. Eskel’s only two months older than him and in some ways, the two of them are all too similar. “He isn’t”, Geralt answers, “he’s mostly into women but there’re some men who catch his eye.”

Jaskier smiles like a cat that got all the cream. “That’s fantastic.”

Geralt grips the phone so hard his knuckle go white. “Indeed,” he grinds out.

Jakier’s face falls. “Geralt, what’s–”

“Have to go.”

He hangs up without another word and tries not to let this hurt him. He did see this coming. Yet, all the moments he and Jaskier shared, all the songs Jaskier sent him, everything of this is right there, painful like hell.

He misses home more than ever.

Week 39

“Geralt, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Geralt doesn’t want to. He didn’t reply to any of Jaskier’s frantic texts since the last video call. He only sent a message about when he would be able to talk this week and sure enough, Jaskier called at that time. Geralt wishes he didn’t. He wishes Jaskier just left already.

“Not bored of me yet?” he asks bitingly, all the bitterness of the past week coming up to the surface again.

Jaskier blinks. “I don’t understand.”

That angers Geralt even more. It’s not that hard to understand that he’s fucking hurt. “Stop fucking playing with me,” he growls, “Just say you want Eskel and leave me the fuck alone.”

“What.”

“You seemed happy to hear that he’s into guys,” Geralt answers, “so fuck off and go to him.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen. “Oh gods,” he says, then starts laughing.

“This isn’t fucking funny,” Geralt spats, furious now. Rejection is bad enough but ridicule is so much worse than that.

Jaskier stops giggling abruptly. “Oh no. I hurt you.”

Geralt grits his teeth and doesn’t reply.

“I’m so, so sorry.” The look in Jaskier’s eyes seems sincere. “I asked about Eskel’s sexuality because I have a plan to set him up with my friend Essi. I was happy to hear that he’s mostly into women because Essi is most definitely a woman, and a wonderful one at that. I’m trying to talk them into a blind date because I’m just sure they’d hit it off.”

Geralt suddenly feels like an idiot.

“I didn’t want to give you that impression,” Jaskier goes on, “I apologize, dearest. Eskel’s great but I love you.”

Geralt finds he can’t say it back today; Jaskier is too good for him. Instead, he musters an apology. Jaskier accepts and slowly, the tension between them eases, but the hurt lingers for some time.

Week 40

“Lambert is such a prick.”

Geralt huffs a laugh. “I see the first meeting went well.”

Lambert returned from his deployment a few days ago. Jaskier met him and Aiden yesterday.

“Well enough, I suppose,” Jaskier replies, “We called each other names but that was the fun part.”

Geralt chuckles. Jaskier rambles on about what’s going on back at home: Ciri's doing good at her piano lessons, Yennefer still tolerates Jaskier, Eskel and Essi have agreed to go out together. As Geralt listens to the cheerful chatter, his chest tightens.

Christmas is in two days. Spending the holiday on the ship isn’t bad – their celebration is almost like home – but Geralt hasn’t seen his loved ones in nine months. Usually, he would be on his way home around this time. Nine months is how long his deployments typically last. When they’re longer than that, being away from home starts getting unbearable again.

The sea can’t soothe him today.

Week 41

It’s their last video call of the year and Geralt wants to come clean.

“My hair used to be dark brown, even darker than yours.”

“Geralt, you really don’t have to–”

“But then in went white in a matter of a few weeks.”

Jaskier says nothing for a while. He looks unsure but Geralt waits for him to ask. Finally, he does. “What? How?”

“Blaviken.”

“Blaviken?”

Geralt swallows hard. His hands start sweating but he makes himself go on. “That was the name of the ship. I was twenty-seven, only a lieutenant. There was a sub-lieutenant there, Renfri. She and I... we had an affair, but we broke it off before we got deployed. During the deployment, she... she wanted to take revenge on one of the officers in command who harassed her in the past. She had a few of the guys on the ship on her side. They... took one crew member hostage, demanding the officer’s immediate resignation.”

“Holy fuck,” Jaskier breathes out.

Geralt’s heart is hammering in his chest. He forces himself to continue. “I was ordered to reason with Renfri but I didn’t succeed. She told her guys to attack me. I defended myself and knocked them out. Then Renfri attacked me herself because I ruined her revenge, and I...” He takes a deep breath and takes in Jaskier’s face for what he knows is possibly the last time. After drinking his fill, he looks away and confesses, “I hurt her too. Really badly. She never fully recovered and left the Navy the moment she could. I faced trial, it was a miracle I didn’t get expelled. People started calling me a Butcher and I was so fucking...” He trails off because his eyes are starting to prickle. The cruel disillusionment of that time – when he realised he would never be a hero after what he’d done – hits him all over again. It haunts him, even now, just like the way Renfri’s body went limp in his arms.

When he can speak again, he only adds, “After everything, my hair went white.”

He can’t even glance at Jaskier. A mixture of self-hatred, shame and remorse rises up his throat like bile. He listens to the ringing silence, waiting for Jaskier to finally say that it’s over.

Jaskier’s words are quiet and sorrowful, “I’m so sorry you went through that.”

It’s such a shock that Geralt can only stare. Jaskier’s eyes are brimming with compassion, which he never got from anyone but his family. No one else cared what truly happened on Blaviken. He was reduced to the Butcher, hated and feared. His infamy followed him like a shadow and Geralt wanted to out-run it more than he ever wanted anything in his life. And so, he worked himself to the ground to prove himself, then to keep his job because Ciri came into his life.

Eventually, he got promoted to lieutenant commander, then to commander three years ago. From the Butcher he became the White Wolf, known not for how he had hurt people but for how he cared about crew safety, demanding complete adherence to the rules. He’s now feared for his strictness, and it’s said that he could even become a Royal Navy captain.

Yet, Geralt noticed that he'd started drifting away from his family, especially Ciri, he slowly understood that enough was enough. The sea is what Geralt knows and finds solace in, but he wouldn’t be where he is now without the support of his loved ones. He’s been choosing the sea over them for long enough. 

And now, somehow, Jaskier has become one of them. It’s irrational and too quick but Jaskier tells him he loves him even when he knows about Blaviken. Geralt decides he wants to keep him in his life indefinitely.

Week 42

“Happy New Year, my love.”

“Happy New Year,” Geralt replies, a smile tugging at his lips. He’s sure the year will be happy, with Jaskier there.

“I have a song for you,” Jaskier says, “to kick this year off with something good. It’s just... what I wish for us.”

“Something good” doesn’t begin to cover it. The song is slow and sensual, and it speaks of being in love. Of Jaskier being in love with him, loving and admiring him despite and because of knowing him well. Geralt listens to the song on repeat until he dreams of it, wishing that it was true.

He suspects that Jaskier has a wrong idea of him – an ideal which he won’t be able to live up to once he comes back. There’s a good chance that he’ll let Jaskier down and what they have won’t last.

And yet, he’s selfish and wants it to be real.

Week 43

Jaskier turns thirty-six today and Geralt has only one thing to say.

“I wish this too, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s smile is watery and beautiful. “Happy birthday to me, indeed.”

Week 44

“Ciri keeps talking about that boy –”

“What boy?”

“You know, the new one in her class? Dara?” Jaskier looks at him expectantly. After a moment, the name rings a bell. He nods and Jaskier goes on, “I think she likes him.”

Geralt freezes. “Likes him?”

“Well, not likes him likes him but... they’re attached at the hip already. It’s great to see her make a friend like that, you know.”

Geralt hums in understanding. Ciri is friendly but other children are a bit hard on her. Many teachers are fond of her and the kids are jealous, thinking that it’s because Ciri’s parents are of high status. Ciri did earn her position as the favourite but it is true that no teacher would want to get into the black boots of a high-ranking government official and a Royal Navy commander. Now, Jaskier entering Ciri’s life only added fuel to fire in this aspect.

Sometimes Geralt thinks he shouldn’t have fought Yennefer tooth and nail when she wanted to send Ciri to the poshest school they could afford at the time. Geralt didn’t want his daughter to grow up in that environment but Yennefer wanted her to receive a top-quality education. In the end, Ciri went to a state school with high educational standards, but when the problem with other kids’ treatment of her appeared a few years later, Geralt regretted his stubbornness.

At least Ciri has always taken it in stride. She’s even more stubborn than he was, refusing to let it get to her, and Geralt adores her for it. It’s a relief, though, that she’s finally made a close friend.

“Thank you for looking out for her,” he tells Jaskier.

“Honestly, Geralt, I’m honoured that you allow me to do it. Yennefer would never let me.”

Geralt chuckles. “She wouldn’t.”

“And yet, despite her clear disdain of me, I’m starting to like that witch-bitch.” Jaskier sighs dramatically. “Alas, it appears she’s actually admirable and has a good taste in everything. Especially men.”

Geralt rolls his eyes.

Week 45

“Essi and Eskel are now a couple!” Jaskier exclaims excitedly in lieu of greeting.

“That was... fast.”

“That’s because they’re a perfect match!” Jaskier boasts with a grin, “I knew exactly what I was doing, I’m one of the best matchmakers out there.”

“What does it make Lambert?” Geralt asks.

“What do you mean?”

“He did matchmake you. With me.”

Geralt can clearly see the moment the realisation hits Jaskier.

“God-fucking-dammit, I’ve been bested!” he laments, "By fucking Lambert!”

Geralt quickly regrets pointing that out. Jaskier refuses to shut up about it.

Week 46

It’s Geralt’s forty-first birthday. The crew sang him happy birthday to his utter disgust, at which the fuckers were delighted, and now it seems that yet another person wants to celebrate his existence.

“I have a gift for you, love,” Jaskier says with a smile.

He props the phone against what Geralt assumes to be the music rack. When Jaskier sits down, Geralt gets a great view of his face as he starts playing.

The slow piano melody entrances Geralt at once. After some time, Jaskier starts singing, his voice low and soothing. The song is full of gentle, loving, grand promises. Geralt’s breath is taken away as he watches Jaskier sway to the music with his eyes closed, basked in the afternoon sunlight, looking like a creature from another world.

All the songs Jaskier’s written for him speak of such a strong feeling that Geralt is afraid to reach for it when he returns. If it were to crash and burn, the disaster would be spectacular. All his previous relationships ended badly; he knows he should be cautious.

And yet, Jaskier lures him in. He’s bright and full of life, ridiculous and annoying, warm but sharp. Jaskier feels like safety, he has from the start. And so, Geralt lets himself have this.

“Siren,” he murmurs after the last notes of the song die down, “thank you. It’s a beautiful gift. You are a gift.”

“Godness, Geralt,” Jaskier breathes out, “don’t say such things.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t be responsible for my actions when I hear you say something like that.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to hold back,” Geralt replies, “You are a gift.”

Jaskier’s gaze darkens. “Just you wait, Geralt Rivia,” he says huskily, “the things I’m going to do to you–”

Week 47

“All right, young lady, time to show off!”

Jaskier angles his phone so that the camera shows both him and Ciri as they sit by the piano in his house. Ciri smiles at Geralt and waves in greeting. Geralt smiles back, giving her an encouraging nod, and she places her fingers on the keys.

“Ladies and gentlemen, and everyone in-between and outside of that spectrum,” Jaskier says in an announcer voice, “I present to you Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia, who will play Chopsticks for this esteemed audience!”

Ciri snickers and then begins. She plays slowly, yet to Geralt’s untrained ear, she keeps the rhythm and doesn’t miss any notes. The song lasts only a minute or two but Geralt is still very proud of her.

“Good job, Cub,” he tells her, making her smile.

“Indeed!” Jaskier seconds, “You’re a talent, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I got it from dad,” Ciri jokes.

The joke warms him to his very core but he snorts because the very notion is beyond ridiculous. “I wouldn’t be able to play well if my life depended on it.”

“Have you tried, though?” Jaskier asks with a smirk that bodes trouble.

Ciri grins like a brat she is. “We could learn together, dad.”

“A splendid idea, Ciri!” Jaskier exclaims. “Now, how can we talk your dad into it?”

Geralt faces two pairs of bright eyes and matching mischievous smiles, and he knows he can’t say no.

Week 48

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe it.” Jaskier lets out a small laugh. “Am I dreaming? Just... it’s been so long.”

“Hmm.”

They don’t talk much, only smile at each other. Geralt can almost sense Jaskier’s excitement through the screen, and he shares the feeling.

Tomorrow, he returns to his family. Very soon, finally, he comes back home.

To Jaskier.

*** 

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you’d like to revisit this fic as a whole, you can do so on AO3. 

The list of "Jaskier's" songs in this fic: Vor í Vaglaskógi by KALEO Movement by Hozier Wish That You Were Here by Florence + The Machine Pass Them By by Agnes Obel Muddy Waters by LP Venus by Sleeping At Last Coming Home, Pt. II by Skylar Grey Angels by the xx I Hold You by CLANN

It would be... a hell of an album.

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #modern au #the Sailor and the Singer AU

[purplesurveys]

1180

The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner? Yeah, I’m pretty paranoid and always feel the need to use conditioner because of a bad rebonding job from like a decade ago that stiffened up my hair as soon as it would get wet. It lasted for around a year, so I formed the habit of always using conditioner every time I shower. I don’t think I’ve ever used just shampoo since then.

Do you prefer light or dark jeans?  Dark, but I suppose it would be nice to start experimenting with lighter shades as well.

When you listen to music, do you generally sing along, or just listen?  It depends if I know the lyrics or I’m feeling the song at the moment. Obviously with my new obsession with BTS I can’t really sing along to entire songs, but I do sing the few English lyrics they have per song, hahaha.

Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook?  Yeah but she’s been muted for like half a year already, as is the rest of her family. I do have plans to unfriend her entirely; I’m just not sure when I would push through with it, and I already gave Angela permission to log onto my account one of these days to be the one to do the unfriending.

Who was your first love? Do you ever miss that person?  Gabie. I miss the friendship sometimes; I don’t think I’ll have a friendship as deep and connected as the one we had, so I will always feel sorry about how that went to waste. But I don’t really think about our relationship anymore as I’m pretty good at blocking off certain memories, so I don’t miss her in that sense.

How many cars are parked at your house right now?  Two.

Do you have any Italian ancestry?  I highly doubt so. If anything there’s probably a tiny drop Spanish blood in there but that’s the most European I’ll ever get.

Do you prefer water to be ice cold or at room temperature?  Like, drinking water? Ice cold, always. I hate warm water.

Has anyone ever told you you’re a control freak?  Not to my face, but I know I’m one so I’m sure other people have said that about me at least behind my back.

Do you know anyone who has gone missing? If so, were they ever found?  Yes, my friend Mik and one of my aunts. They were both found eventually.

What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten?  Eating ghost pepper instant noodles was a pain I would never want to go through again...I threw that shit out after my first forkful, lmao.

Do you need to talk to someone?  No, not in particular. In a more general sense I do wanna start gaining more friends though, so I’ve been meaning to expand my circle by creating a new Twitter account just for my BTS dump. In other words, I am a 23 year old with a stan Twitter HAHAHAHA

Is something confusing you at the moment?  No, I’m good.

When was the last time you had a real deep chat?  Maybe my conversation with Andi a couple of nights back. We were talking about a tricky situation with their ex-friend who turned out to be a real dick when they came out to him a year ago, and they just wanted to get my perspective on how I would handle it.

Who did you last see on webcam?  The PR manager for one of our clients, who we all despise because he doesn’t know how to do his job. Thankfully he’s resigning soon so we’re all just waiting for him to leave and finally meet a much more competent replacement.

What’s your best friend’s pet’s name(s)?  Angela has two dogs, Hailey and Kennedy. Andi had Apollo, who I wanted to meet so badly but sadly he passed away a week ago at 15.

Have you ever taken a picture while laying in the grass?  There are photos of me sitting on grass, but not lying in it. I would imagine that would feel very prickly and uncomfortable.

Who’s your favorite Disney character? Baymax or Flynn Rider.

Have you ever deliberately tried to get someone drunk?  I’ve made my friends chug drinks or down shots and it’s happened vice versa, but it was always in good fun and we never made each other harassed from it. It’s just your typical college rambunctiousness, and if anyone felt uncomfortable or iffy then we didn’t hesitate to move on.

When was the last time you used a pay phone and who were you calling?  I’ve only ever seen those in my first school, when I was in kindergarten. I never got to use it and they also took them out not long after.

Do you like being kissed on the neck?  Yessssssssss

Have you ever had sex with someone you weren’t dating (but had feelings for) in the hopes that they would ask you out later?  Nope. I don’t think I would have sex with anyone I wasn’t dating.

What’s the most you would be willing to spend on a good bra?  Probably a couple thousand bucks if I thought I looked good in it.

Do you have any of your teachers’ personal cell phone numbers saved in your contacts list?  I don’t think so. I never tried getting close with any of them, and I always tried to stay hidden as much as possible. I was just in class to get good grades and pass.

Do you ever stalk peoples’ personal blogs, even if you don’t know them very well?  I never really scroll through people’s Tumblrs anymore. That was more of a thing I did in like 2013, but these days going through my dashboard is enough.

What’s one thing about today’s generation that you just can’t stand?  Some social media trends done for clout make me revolted, especially when it has anything to do with wasting food. I also hate when they do extreme pranks that I know I wouldn’t find funny if I were ever the victim, like tossing someone’s phone into the ocean.

Be honest: how do you feel about abortion?  Pro-choice. 

Is there anyone you currently want to reach out to?  I would love to catch up with Katreen at some point, but I know we’re at different points in our lives now and it would probably never happen.

What is your favorite piece of art you own?  I commissioned my sister to make an artwork of the 2D1N cast, and she did a great job making it! I haven’t gotten to use it or promote it yet, but I will soon. It’s really well-done.

What’s the one thing you apologized for this month?  Replying late.

My favorite color is ______?  Pastel pink.

I wish I had _____?  Longer weekends.

What did you buy today? Nothing – I’d call that a success lmao, I’ve been spending money as if I had a million fucking bucks over the last week. I did have some packages arrive today though: my own copy of 2 Cool 4 Skool (my first physical BTS album!!!!!!); the official poster from their album BE; the Ivy Park sneakers I ordered earlier this month, and an Ivy Park bucket hat Bea had apparently gotten for me as a birthday present.

What has challenged your morals?  Vices.

What made you pick up the last book you started reading?  I had to read it in preparation for a one-on-one session with my employer’s CEO.

What about your life concerns you the most? Whether a stable future is in the cards for me.

What do you find particularly offensive? Would you say you’re easy or difficult to offend?  Probably Filipino-American comedians or influencers who use stereotyping of Filipino accents and habits as a punchline; they do more harm to the culture than good. I can tell you not one Filipino who lives in the Philippines actually finds those funny, and Bretman Rock is probably the only personality who’s able to flaunt the culture in an entertaining and hilarious yet classy way.

When it comes to being offended, I guess it depends on the context. My humor can get pretty dark and low-blowy, but I would have a problem with someone who I know has genuinely problematic views.

What was the last series you finished watching? Do you have any plans to begin another?  I think it may had still been Start-Up from last December. I’m not too big on Korean dramas since I find one episode waaaaaaayyyyyyy too long. I don’t think I’ll be starting on anything soon, Korean or otherwise.

What is one way in which you are different from a year ago? What is one way in which you are still the same?  I’m single now, for the first time in technically six years. I also think I’m doing better and happier, breakup notwithstanding. OH and I love wasabi now, hahah. As for what’s unchanged, I still like taking surveys and I’m still stuck at home, though the latter’s not really in my control anymore.

If you could learn about anything without the stress of grades or cost, what kind of classes would you take?  I’d just go back to UP for the free tuition. We also have the widest range of programs out of any university in the country, so it’s a damn good deal.

Name a song you’ve listened to today?  Fly To My Room - BTS

When you were younger, did you have a swing set or a playhouse in your backyard?  We didn’t; but one of our relatives that we’d regularly visit did have a playground that I’d use all the time. It’s still there, just very unmaintained since no one uses it anymore.

Is your mall nice?  Which one? We have five different malls nearby lol. Mall culture here is on another level.

Do you have a Sonic near you? If so, what’s your favorite drink from there?  No. I’m not so sure what they serve there, either. I’m guessing milkshakes?

Will you be voting in the presidential elections next time around?  I’ll always exercise my right to vote.

How do you feel about chocolate-covered strawberries?  I hate strawberries and I hate fruits, so even if you coat that shit in Nutella and cookie butter and chocolate syrup I still wouldn’t touch it.

Did you ever stop having feelings for someone and then started having those feelings again for them? No.

Do you hate the last guy you had a thing with?  I’ve never had a thing with guys.

To whom did you last give the finger?  I haven’t had to do that in a while.

What was the last musical instrument played in your presence?  My sister’s keyboard.

Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream?  Not particularly. They make things look cute, but they never taste like anything tbh so I never saw the point in paying extra just to have them on my desserts.

Honestly, have you ever crashed a party before?  Nah. I cringe thinking about that.

Do you know how to do the moon walk?  I don’t.

Has anybody ever told you that you have a good singing voice?  Never gotten that specific compliment before because I know I don’t have one.

Onion rings or french fries?  Onion rings.

Has anybody ever described you as a heart breaker? No.

Has anybody ever told you that you talk too fast?  I don’t think so, but I know I have the tendency to do so occasionally, especially while I’m presenting a deck. Once I notice it I make an effort to pace myself.

Who is the best cook that you know?  My dad and both my grandmas all deserve that title.

Which meal throughout the day do you skip the most?  I literally never have lunch ever.

What’s the largest amount that you can juggle at one time?  I can’t juggle.

What was your favorite thing to go on at the playground as a kid?  Sandboxes, since I liked the texture; the sandboxes in school were also often empty, which worked well for my introvert self. I find that it’s carried over to today, since I still enjoy touching things like slime and kinetic sand.

Do you know how much you weighed at birth? How much?  I think 5 or 6 lbs, I’m not exactly sure but it’s definitely somewhere in that small range.

Which aspect of your daily routine takes the most time? What do you do?  Work, for sure. I work a normal 9–6 so that’s already 8 hours out of my day, but I also OT a lot after hours, and I work throughout my lunch break as well so that technically makes it 9 hours. I also like getting up earlier and starting some work before my shift so that I would have less tasks on my plate for the day.

Do you enjoy buying gifts for others, or could you do without this?  I LOVE getting people gifts. Food is especially my love language, and I always get food delivery for my friends, family, and my team at work.

What is one thing you are expected to do, if anything?  I mean, I have work deadlines tomorrow so there’s that.

How do you tend to view driving? Monotonous or entertaining?  I love driving. I don’t think I ever complained about having to do it. It’s calming and relaxing when I’m doing it alone or with a partner; and it can be entertaining with the right set of people.

Do you enjoy talking about music with others? Not always. If I don’t listen to the artist then I can find the conversation quite boring, like if my friends would get into a full-blown discussion about Taylor Swift.

Is acting something you enjoy?  No. It wouldn’t even be something I’d be interested in doing.

When do you feel most accomplished?  Finishing a work day with no tasks left behind.

Do you think Manwich is amazing or completely gross?  Idk what that is.

How many best friends do you have?  Two.

Are you a smoker, drinker, pothead or none of the above?  I drink sometimes. I also kinda smoke, I guess.

If you have your ears pierced, when did you get them pierced?  My mom had them pierced when I was a month old.

Do you own any exercise machines?  My mom has this rowing equipment thingy. I don’t have any of my own, though.

On Facebook, do you have people listed as your siblings who aren’t really your siblings?  No.

Have you ever drawn or painted a self-portrait?  I remember having to draw one as a school assignment, but I’m pretty sure I half-assed that because I couldn’t care less for art class back then.

Who was your last voicemail from?  We don’t have voicemails.

Have you ever been falsely accused of something serious?  I don’t think so. That’s the sort of situation that would stick out in my memory if ever.

Did you ever set up a lemonade stand when you were a kid?  No, not a thing here.

When was the last time you spoke to someone in a different language?  Around an hour ago when I went downstairs and chatted with my sister briefly.

Have you ever received an anonymous gift?  Nope.

Have you ever camped out somewhere for an event the next day?  Nope but I definitely still wouldn’t be opposed to doing that haha.

When were you the saddest in your life? 2016 was fucking miserable. < I’d have to agree. 2017 was also awful.

Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you?  I used to know one but she got out of it. In a sense, I suppose I also was in one.

If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you?  Well they’re younger, so they definitely still live here, with our parents. I’m the first one expected to move out, but I’m taking my time.

Have you ever gotten searched by the cops?  No.

Do you like fried rice?  Of course. I like any kind of rice.

What was the last thing you drank?  Water.

#survey #surveys

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Nine

A/N: soooooo, last minute I decided to torture you guys:) I made the chapter into 2 parts, next part will be posted tomorrow night. I'm prepared to be cussed out in the comments 😤 love y'all tho

Also, I'm saving the picture for the next part because *cough cough* so I'm sorry if this appears a little naked.

Words: 2.6k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion  @sinningsixx  @edwardtriggerhandzz  @lemmyjelly  @haileynicoleseavey17  @cierrasixx19  @oskea93  @mgkobsessed  @vamprlestat  @sharon6713  @itsametaphorbriansblog  @miriampraez  @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx  @rebeccaphillips14  @nicholeh7  @fandomshit6000  @lilmou5ie  @tamedhearts  @divaanya  @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx  @ratedrkohardychick91  @floregrohlssard  @oldschoolimagineblog  @thanks2pete  @abaldboi  @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium  @caos18blog  @ytwahsog  @shamlessobsession @scarecrowmax  @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471  @solohqrry  @loveofmyloif  @sparxx27  @kaitieskidmore1  @cruecifymesixx  @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor  @emmaelizabeth2014 @meetthesixxter  @sixxsixxsexx @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg  @girlnight-terror  @mcnibberachi

@fancywasmyname1  @teller258316  @ggorehorror  @blowinmeupwithherlove  @xrosegoldwolfx  @mylifeisjustafeverdream  @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

-------------------------------------------------------

S e p t e m b e r 1 9 8 7

“Where are you--”

I’m shut up with the sound of Nikki slamming the door before I can finish asking him where he’s going, and I let out a heavy breath.

"--Going." I finish my question with a heavy sigh.

We’ve only been off the road for a couple days and tomorrow is our last day home, so we decided it’d just be easier for us to stay at the house instead of one of us sleeping elsewhere, but he’s been staying somewhere else every night we’ve been home...I don’t want to know who he’s been staying with or what they’ve been doing, so I haven’t bothered to ask.

I glance at the clock, seeing it’s 5:47pm, and go ahead and assume that since he’s been leaving the house around this time every day and hasn’t been coming back until the next morning, that he’s not coming home again until tomorrow.

Which means I’m by myself, being that Karen is on a small vacation ever since we’ve been home and she hasn’t been having to watch our house.

“Great.” I sarcastically mumble to myself, deciding to start on dinner, Whisky staying under my feet. "If Daddy isn't careful, I'm going to choke him with his own hair." I say to him and he looks up at me with a wagging tail and big smile. "Glad we can agree."

I get one pan out of the cabinet before I’m putting it on the counter, and sighing out.

“You know what? I don’t want to cook.” I state, putting the pan back, shutting the cabinet door, and stepping to the phone, dialing a number.

It rings a couple times before the line is picked up, and I smile at the voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Stevie, it’s Viv.” I tell him.

“Hey, babe, what's going on?" He asks me.

"I'm looking for Duff, do you know where he is?" 

"He's in the shower." He replies. "You want me to tell him you're on the line?"

"No, it's okay, just tell him to gimme a call ba--"

"--Duff, it's Viv!" I hear Steven scream and I cringe, pulling the phone away from my ear a little. 

I hear Duff's muffled reply, opening my mouth to tell Steven that I'll call back later, but I'm being cut off again. 

"I said, 'Viv's on the line'!" Steven yells again, hearing Duff respond. "He's coming." Steven assures me.

"Stevie, you could've waited until he was out of the shower." I comment. 

"Trust me, Viv, he would want me to interrupt him if it's for you." He states. "Ok, he's here, I love you, bye."

"Love you, bye." I reply. 

"Hey." Duff takes over.

"Hey, I'm sorry I interrupted your bathing, I tried telling Stevie you could just call me back later." 

"No, no, Viv, you're fine." He assures me. 

"Oh."

"What's up?" He asks and I look around my kitchen.

"Um...I was just wondering if you're free tonight?"

The line is quiet for a second and I raise my brows, rubbing my lips together, waiting for him to say something. 

"...Hello?" 

"Oh, yeah, s-sorry, you wanna do something or something or--I mean, like you wanna hangout? B-Because I'm free, ya know. Yeah." He stutters out awkwardly and I hold back a laugh. 

"Smooth." I hear Steven comment in the background. 

"Dude, shh!" Duff replies in a whisper. "Um, anyway, yeah, I'm not busy."

"Okay, I was gonna order take out if that's okay with you?"

"Whatever you want is fine with me." He offers. 

"Okay." I reply. 

There's a long pause and the both of us finally try to talk at the same time:

"Alright, well--"

"Cool, so--"

We stop for a second, the two of us chuckling a little. 

"Sorry, you go." He tells me. 

"I was gonna say, 'I'll see you in a few minutes'." I say. 

"Good deal, I'll see you then." He agrees. 

"Okay."

"Okay."

Again, another awkward silence. 

"...Okay."

"Okay."

The phone is suddenly hanging up, the dial tone in my ear, and I quirk a brow, before putting the phone back on the hook. 

I wasn't sure why things were so freaking awkward with us, nothing had changed, nothing had happened. I hadn't seen him since the Playboy shoot a month and a half prior, so I didn't understand what exactly shifted.

I hear the doorbell ring and Whisky starts barking while I grab the Chinese takeout boxes and some silverware. 

"Whisky, who is it?" I ask him sweetly as I step to the door, opening it to see all six feet, four inches of Duff. 

He's in a CBGB t-shirt and black jeans, a bag of gummy worms and a six pack of Pepsi in hand. 

"Hi." He says, and I step aside and let him in as Whisky immediately starts sniffing at him, starting at his boot, up his leg, and I politely keep him from getting too personal as soon as his nose goes for his crotch. 

"Ohhhkay, Whisky, that's enough." I tell him, nudging him away from Duff as he hands me the Pepsi and candy, crouching down to pet him. 

"No, it's fine. He's just trying to know me." Duff chuckles, he and Whisky bonding the second his fingers move over the back of Whisky's ears, making him melt like butter in Duff's hands.

After a few minutes of me putting our food on plates and him going to wash his hands, we're finally eating in the living room floor, at the coffee table, with the dog eating his food several feet away, despite coming over to try to eat some of ours every now and then. 

"So, like, apparently Nikki's trying to get you guys a spot on the tour." I inform him and he raises his brows. 

"Really?"

"Yeah. Slash and Stevie have been conspiring and shared it with Nikki...and he loves you guys so he and Tommy and Vince and Mick are down for it. He's been pestering Doc and Doc said he'd contact your manager a little later." I add.

"Well, we've got some shows coming up to promote the album but, I mean, I don't see the harm in going on tour with them." He shrugs. "It'd be good exposure." 

"It would."

"I don't know." He shakes his head a little, swallowing another bite of Lo mein, and I furrow my brows. "I just expected more people to buy 'Appetite'. And they would, if we had our video on MTV, and radio actually played us." He vents. "We're just chomping at the bit, ready to run our asses off the second the race starts, and nobody's firing the fucking starting gun."

The radio was afraid to play them, MTV refused to put their video for "Welcome to the Jungle" on air because John Malone (who owned half of the cable-houses that broadcasted MTV) only saw them as a heroin band, and promoting them wouldn't sit right with his strong Republican, conservative,"christian" morale...so he threatened to drop MTV if they played Guns N' Roses.

"I can talk to Doc and see if he can pull any strings. I mean if they'll play Mötley Crüe--"

"--Tom is vouching for us to anyone that will listen." He explains. "Right now it's not something to worry about, but if it's still like this six months from now, we need to panic a little."

"There's no way in hell it's gonna take six months for you guys to pick up traction." I state in disbelief.

"Viv--"

"--If six months from now you guys still aren't on MTV, I'll harass whoever I need to, to make it happen. I'll go to their houses." I promise and he shakes his head, chuckling. 

I was serious, and I ended up delivering on that.

"None of them are worth the trouble. Just a bunch of money-hungry hypocrites hiding behind religion to validate their assbackwards logic." He shrugs. 

"You sound like my dad." I point out and he smiles, taking another bite of food as I sip from my bottle of Pepsi. 

He stares at me for a moment before I'm raising my brows, silently asking him what's up. 

"So, like, how is your dad so cool and your mom is so…" he trails off and I take a breath, shrugging a little. 

"That's how she was raised. I mean, I know that's not an excuse but her mom and dad were both that way on her and my aunt--my aunt obviously cracked under the pressure and just gave up trying to please them back when she was a teenager. My grandparents have been dead for years now but my mom still acts like she's trying to make them happy." I mumble. "Which, according to my dad, she wasn't always like that. She did a small 'wild' thing one time, and got knocked up with me." 

"What?!" He gawks. 

"They got married seven months early to avoid her parents knowing what they had done." I add.

"Dude, imagine losing your virginity and getting pregnant from it." He tries to hold back a laugh. 

"My mom always told me I was planned, and once I was old enough to do the math between my birthday and their anniversary, I put the pieces together and my dad finally told me what happened when I turned sixteen." 

He nods, and licks his lips, awkwardly clearing his throat before saying:

"So...what about your first time?" 

I scoff, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. 

"Um, seventeen, Nikki, their roach-motel apartment." 

"You've only dated one guy?" 

"Yeah." I nod. 

"Wow…" he says it like it's hard to believe. 

"What's that mean?"

"I just expected you to have dated a couple more guys before settling on Nikki." He replies. 

"I didn't settle for Nikki." I tell him, matter of fact. "Being with him was a good idea at the time." I add. 

"Nah, I get it. That's how it was with my first big-boy girlfriend." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah."

"What happened to her?"

He takes a second, taking in a heavy breath, but trying to keep things light with his smile. 

"We were, like, kids basically. Like sixteen/seventeen, and I had to go out of town to visit some family, and when I got back she told me she had hooked up with this dude at a party while I was away. And we broke up, and then got back together, and then things were good for another year until the big heroin epidemic hit Seattle." He informs me. "It got its hooks in her and wouldn't let go. I finally just had to break things off because I couldn't watch her kill herself in an overdose like some of my friends had already done, and I left for L.A. shortly after. I know that's selfish but ignorance is bliss. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I were to ever find out she'd died." There's a small gloss to his eyes, like he's holding back a few tears. 

"That's not selfish." I tell him, shaking my head. "Some people aren't meant to be in our lives forever. Some are just there to grow you in some way and if it's not God's will for them to stay around you he gives you the strength to just walk away." I suggest. 

"Is that what's happening with you and Nikki?" He asks next, looking at me. "He's giving you the strength to walk away?" 

"God's ignoring me currently so I wouldn't know." I admit. "He wants me to stay with Nikki, but Nikki won't even say whether or not he truly wants a divorce. He just avoids the conversation. I think he feels like if he ignores it, the issue will resolve itself."

"Well...what do you think? I mean, has anyone asked how you feel about this? Like having to make people think you guys are together and stuff." 

"It doesn't really matter how I--or even Nikki--feels."

"Okay, Vivian, I didn't ask about Nikki, alright?" He politely tells me and I sigh. 

"I'm miserable." I finally get it out. "We pose for pictures in magazines, still, a-and pile on the PDA anytime press is around and it freaking sucks. Because we're arguing more and more lately so it's like as soon as we get inside we're going back to being mean to each other. And I'm over him, like I've accepted the fact that we're more than likely divorcing, I've gotten all of it out of my system, but the waiting and dragging it out for another year is just getting to me." A couple tears topple over my lashes. 

"If you want out then get out, Viv." He says to me. 

"It's not that simple, Duff."

"Yes, it is. You're just waiting for Nikki to tell you he wants to work things out, and using Doc telling you guys to hold off on any decisions until the tour is over, as an excuse." He states, as noninvasive as possible and I hate to hear the truth. "If you wanna stay, stay, if you want to leave him, leave him. You shouldn't have to explain yourself either way. It's your own business but at least be honest with yourself and call it what it is."

"I will when you do." I argue and he looks at me with raised brows. 

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, please, Duff, you act like this when you're sober but then when you're drunk you're telling me you love me." I state. "You're not being honest with yourself, either."

His brows furrow.

"Viv, what the fuck am I suppose to do? Huh? You're married. You've been married."

"Barely." 

"What do you want me to do about it?" He defensively chuckles out. 

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

"Nikki's done a lot for me and the band, and I don't want to disrespect you or him so I've kept to myself, alright? So just leave it at that and let's finish eating because I got rehearsal tomorrow." He tries to change the subject. 

"He had an entire mistress, Duff, telling me how you really felt about me wouldn't have--"

"--You wanna know how I really feel about you? Fine. I don't understand how someone so beautiful and insanely kind could fucking exist, but you do. My hands get all weird and sweaty and gross when you're around. I can barely walk at times because my legs feel like jello anytime I'm talking to you. It pisses me off that you're so talented and a fucking genius but all you see is how you aren't good enough because you aren't the 'type' that guys like Nikki usually desire--but I'm telling you now, people stare at you anywhere we go like you're healing lepers or something and it's definitely not because they think you're ugly. I know what my boundaries are and would never purposely do something that would make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry I said that to you when I was shitfaced. I'd much rather have told you when I was sober, but there's never been a point of me telling you because--"

"--Tell me." I cut him short. "You're sober." I point out, shifting to my knees. "So tell me." 

He licks his lips, his breathing picking up slightly as he looks me dead in the eyes. 

"I love you." He tells me. "I love you, Vivian." He repeats it, more confidently. "I have since the day we met."

I nod a little, my eyes getting teary and I'm kissing him before I can talk myself out of it. 

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

[full-er-housefan]

Secrets revealed

Hey guys this is a fuller house imagines that is not part of the series but was requested but familynotfandom hope you enjoy

I knock on the door leading to the fuller house and wait for the magic words "It's always open" to let myself in. I greet Deej and Steph as I make my way to the room of my boyfriend of six months. He sat at his desk running his hands through his hair trying to complete the newly assigned math homework. He had obviously not heard me come in as his face remained stuck on the assignment. I tip toed up to him and slowly wrapped my arms around him nuzzling my face in his neck inhaling his J - money cologne. He gave a small jump in surprise but once he noticed it was me he turned around to finally greet me. I had been friend with Jackson since his family had moved back in after his father death. It was an unfortunate time to meet but since then he was my bestfriend. I began liking him in seventh grade back when I could look eye to eye with him without straining my neck but once he grew height wise he also said he had grown the courage to ask me out. Since then we kept our secret hidden only doing couple things in private not out of fear of his family not approving of me no. I got along great with his family but out of fear that they would harass us with non stop question. He planted a kiss on my cheek and pulled me into his chair with him spinning back around to finish his homework. "What are you working on" I questioned laying my head on him breathing him in again. "Math." "No duh which problem." "number 7" he says tapping his pencil on the incomplete question. Having completed the homework already I tell him the answer. "How did you know." "I finished already like a good child." He rolls his eyes playfully and responds with "Well if you already finished help me." "What do I get in return." I asked sitting up while I look up at him crossing my arms. "The faster I get this done the faster I can cuddle." "Deal" We work through the problems one at a time as my head rests on his shoulder and he lightly spins his desk chair. When he is finally done we pick ourselves up and drop onto his bed. I lay on top of him messing with one of his hands that lays on my torso while his other hand runs through my hair. I almost fall asleep but Jackson begans to kiss my cheek. I push myself up and turn to face him. He kisses down my cheek to the corner of my mouth. We get so caught up in what we are doing we don't notice Max standing in the door way. "Holy chalupas" Jackson and I break apart in an instant. We watch as Max runs back outside of the room. Jackson and I quickly run to catch up to Max to make sure he doesn't expose our secret. We run down the stairs and into the middle of the living room. Just as he is about to call out to someone we close his mouth with our hands. "No Max" we yell at the same time "No Max what" Deej comes in with a Landry basket held up by her waist. "No Max ... don't ruin the surprise we have for dinner" Jackson thinks up quick I let out a breath of relief as he answered "Oh surprise what is it" Dj asks dropping her basket "Mom if I told you that it wouldn't be a surprise" Jackson calls as he drags me and Max back up the stairs. When we finally reach their room again Jackson sits Max on his bed and I sit at the desk "Max you have to promise you won't tell anyone about us" "Okay but why" "we just don't want them asking questions" "Well Jackson he seems pretty calm maybe it is time we tell everyone" I comment "Oh no I have plenty of questions I have been shipping you guys for a while but I'm holding them back because you guys look so cute interrogating" he clapped his hands together and held them at the side of his family causing you to playfully roll your eyes "Okay but Max you have to promise us you won't tell anybody" you told him pointing a stern finger "fine" he dragged out NE at the end and rolled his eyes dramatically but agreed none the less

That night at dinner

You were invited to stay the night which you obviously accepted at dinner you sat next Ramona and Tommy enjoying Dj ' s spaghetti while listening to the new topic of conversation "all I'm saying is he should man up and kiss you already Deej" Kimmy commented about Dj ' s new boyfriend Steve "Yeah even Jackson's man enough to kiss somebody" Max exclaimed Jackson went wide eyed and you choked on your bite of food when you were finally okay everyone went back to Max "Max what do you mean Jackson was kissing someone" you heard Jackson hit Max under the table "nothing" "Jackson" Dj gave Jackson a stern look and you knew he couldn't survive so you looked away in embarrassment Jackson's cheeks turned pink as almost all eyes were on him "I have a girlfriend" you heard him squeak out there was an arrangement of 'oh my gods' and 'oh wows' "so was that the big surprise" Dj asked as you found the courage to lift your head "Yup that and nothing else" he went back to eating and so did everyone else until "but wait how does Max know you were kissing with them the only girl who has been around here is ..." Steph started but never finished as she connected the piece you and Jackson looked wide eyed at her you always looked up to Steph in a motherly sort of way and begged her not to tell she winked at you as the rest looked confused at the interaction

After dinner

The kitchen was empty except for you and Steph as she held you back "so is it true" she asked "is what true" you asked clearly blushing trying to buy yourself some time "you know what are you dating Jackson" you messed with your fingers and nodded quickly to get your answer out "Oh my goodness" she covered her mouth with her hands than gave you a hug "so is that a yes" you heard from the other side of the kitchen door the rest of the family entered followed by Jackson who gave you a sheepish grin they all embraced you congratulating you and bombarding you with questions "No questions please not now" Jackson answered taking your hand leading you up the stairs "Okay but leave the door opened" you heard on your way up when you reached his room he closed the door and turned giving you a hug "I'm sorry" he whispered into your hair "It's okay I'm glad it's out" you smiled into the side of his face "really" he asked straightening out "Yeah now we don't have to hide" the both of you smiled as you planted a kiss on his lips ending your night of secrets

#jackson fuller x reader #jackson fuller imagines #jackson x reader #jackson fuller #fuller house

[wholeanimal]

Quietly Shitty Men

“There is a specific type of person who will siphon the gas right from you because they’ve never learned how to shine their own light.” My ex is engaged.  That shouldn’t bother me, should it?  Oh, but it does.  It bothers me because I saw it coming.  Tell me, what makes a woman “crazy”? Is it when she follows her own instincts? Or is it when she suppresses them? Is she crazy for sensing something is wrong, or crazy for acting like it?  It would be one thing if this was someone new. Good luck and God bless.  It would be another if he said, at any point in the relationship, how he felt. That he was anxious or nervous or angry or scared or hurt or apprehensive or lost. You know, feelings.  I can’t blame a person for having feelings. Had he stepped up and said “you know what, I can’t stop thinking about my ex, I want to give it another try with her.”  That would have been fine. Not in the moment, but nine months later, I wouldn’t be feeling like this. Feeling like I’ve just clicked the last piece of the puzzle into place. 

It wasn’t me. It was, obviously, never me.  I wouldn’t still be putting myself back together after riding the world’s shittiest, least exciting roller coaster.  I wouldn’t be having nightmares that I was somehow still dating him, still subjected to his unfortunately not unique brand of emotionlessness and quiet disdain. Like I was the freak for feeling.  When things were really, truly over, that’s when I learned the most about who he was. I remember sitting at the kitchen counter, having a silent panic attack, wondering where I was going to live, what I was going to do, how I was going to make this all work. The pandemic and riots had hit my neighborhood hard, and I was trying to imagine starting life over when everything else was figuratively and literally crumbling.  Granted, I can’t remember the conversation word-for-word, but this is my best attempt.  “What’s going on?”  “Nothing, I’m just freaking out.” “Why?” “I have to move. I have to start over. I have to figure out so many things.” “Yeah, well...” “What?” “I just don’t know why you’re so upset.” “Are you fucking serious?” “Yeah. I don’t know why you have to have so many emotions.”  “Do you mean now, or in general?” “In general.” I was about ready to fly apart.

“You don’t...understand...why I have EMOTIONS?”  ”Yeah. I guess I just don’t see the point.” I don’t remember much after that. I remember going back upstairs and crying so hard I vomited. So much made sense: it wasn’t that he couldn’t empathize with me. It’s that he saw no value in it. Only his emotions were valid. Anything beyond that was simply not worth caring about. It was chilling, and nauseating, and heartbreaking. My heart broke many times over the course of the month I spent living there after we decided to part ways. I had several conversations like this, where I realized just how long I had been having a one-sided relationship. It also made me feel white-hot, clench-fisted RAGE. How DARE he?  NOTHING about his daily life would change. He would wake up in the same bed, go down the same set of stairs, putz around his merry fucking way. He wouldn’t have to spend a dollar or dime sorting out what came next. Me, on the other hand? I lost my job the same day I found my apartment.  I wanted to claw the paint from the walls I had meticulously restored. I wanted to splinter the floors I had paid to have refinished. I wanted to take all this hard work with me, somehow, to show that I had not truly given up everything. That I had something left. I’m not writing this for you to feel bad about me. I’m more than fine.  I’m not looking for words of encouragement. I don’t need them.  I want him, and other quietly shitty men, held accountable.  Nothing my ex did was actually abusive. It was juuuuust under the line, just enough for him to be able to walk away with his hands up, all “Guess it just didn’t work out!” And I know, I KNOW I’m not the only one.  He made me feel crazy and stupid and weak and small and pathetic. I contorted myself into impossible shapes, trying to make the relationship work. I did things he would never do, that I would never do again. I moved across the country. Twice.  I downplayed all the porn he watched. I pushed the fact that he had an active FetLife account out of my mind. I ignored my dealbreaker about being with a smoker - something he claimed he quit, then started up again in secret, then held against me when I called him out. Making me the bad guy.  It got so bad, I suspected I had R-OCD, or relationship-based OCD. That was my only explanation for how I was always so anxious and he was always so calm. It was MY fault that something felt off. He was aware of my tendency to blame myself, and used it against me. Then, he would get to be the patient, understanding boyfriend while I broke down again and again, hating myself for being so “weak.” I wasn’t weak. He was keeping me in the dark on purpose, because it was easier to do that than to, I don’t know, be fucking honest?! 

Every time I got really bent out of shape, when the little slights and coldness and disdain had built up to a breaking point, he would let me say (or scream) my piece, and respond: “You’re right.”  Wow. Thanks!  I see now that you don’t have to do much work on yourself when you just agree with the person who is upset with you.  I’m also not writing this to paint myself as an angel. Yes, I was frustrated and confused and upset, which came out in outbursts of tears and anger. But the difference is, I was trying to connect with him in everything I did.  He was trying to push me away. it dawned on me, during one of those horrible post-breakup conversations, that he had fully checked out many months ago. I finally asked him to define a phrase I had heard him use during couples counseling (another suggestion of mine). “What do you mean by ‘I’m deeply invested in your happiness?’” “What?” “Well, like an investment, do you mean time, money, emotions? Or do you just want me to be ok?” “Yeah, that.” “Ok. so you just want me to be “okay”.” I’ll take “Performative Allyship” for 200! I’ve told myself I should have known. Should have left sooner. Should-ing myself to death, sparing him from any fault. Remember, he’s the long-suffering partner of an overly sensitive woman. Another wince-worthy excerpt from couples counseling: Our therapist asked us, at the end of a session, to each tell the other something we loved about the other person. I turned, with tears in my eyes, and told him I appreciated how consistent he was. I was always able to count on him being stable and calm.  He told me he liked how nice and clean I kept the house.  Cool! He could have saved himself about six months of this bullshit if he had just spoken his mind. I wonder, now, if he even had the capacity. But no, he preferred to wait and let me figure it out on my own, until I was so depleted that I was having almost nonstop migraines. But, just like the sibling who can’t get into trouble because they’re “NOT ACTUALLY TOUCHING YOU!!!”, nothing he did was exactly abusive.  But it was plenty shitty.  Mr. Social Justice. Mr. Feminism. Mr. Don’t Comment On That Topic Or I’ll Shut Down Emotionally. Mr. We Have To Move Away From Montana For Vague Reasons Including Racial Tension Which I Never Actually Experienced But That’s Reason Enough For Me!  And when we got to Philadelphia, it was Mr. Why Don’t You Take More Walks Outside Even Though You Get Harassed and Followed? You’re In The House Too Much (Yeah, Even Though It’s a Pandemic).  He’d spend hours on the phone talking to the nurses he helped at work. But when a woman in need lived in his own house, ew, gross! Too close to home!  There’s a line in a very funny Chris Fleming song called the “Grad Student Shuffle”, which takes the absolute piss out of white male graduate students. A few of the lines apply, but these especially: Call yourself a community organizer Even though you’re not on speaking terms with your roommates! Stand tall and look mindful Even though you're addicted to porn! C'mon! Now close your eyes Say fair enough "Fair enough" Now you are doing the Grad Student Shuffle I’ve gone back and added to this post a bunch of times since I wrote it. I like having a record, even if it’s one-sided. I realize I’m writing this as much for myself as I am for anyone else. To put my story down somewhere, and not to be too concerned if it’s fair or balanced. What happened to me wasn’t fair or balanced.  Which reminds me of the worst confrontation we ever had.  It was just an hour or two after we decided to break up. It was a sad, but quiet conversation. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved. I went upstairs to let the new reality soak in, and asked if I could steal a puff from his vaporizer. Not weird, right? What was weird was that I felt like a guest in his room. We kept separate bedrooms, which I highly recommend to any couple who can spare the space. But there is a difference between having the option of separate spaces, and feeling relegated to separate spaces. I didn’t feel welcome in his room, and he made no secret of it.  So, as usual, I asked to go in.  He had left his laptop open on the bed, and I stared off into space as I waited for the vaporizer to heat. I must note, here, that I am not a person who digs. I will run circles in my own brain, but by and large, i leave stuff alone. So I didn’t go looking for what was already on the screen, which was a conversation between him and his best friend.  I read maybe a couple sentences before realizing, oops, probably shouldn’t. It was enough to see one exchange, less than two hours after we had officially broken up. “That sucks, man. How long do you think til you’ll be back on Tinder?” “I don’t know. Probably before she moves out.”  I’d like to say I don’t remember what happened next, but I do remember. I marched down two flights of stairs, yanked two giant plastic bins out of basement storage, and rage-packed everything I owned outside of my own room in less than ten minutes. 

He, of course, had no idea. Nuanced as a fucking turtle, he told me he was going out for a walk, and then asked if something was wrong.  I let him have it. Everything that had been building inside of my body came spewing out, all at once. I stumbled over my own words, laughing-crying-screaming-asking him what the fuck he was thinking, who the fuck he was, and what the fuck was this relationship? Was any of it even REAL?  He had nothing to say.  And that, my friends, was my main mistake. Thinking anything I could ever do could ever get a reaction out of him. Could ever draw the sort of love or support or attention that I used to get from him, before he decided to turn off the tap. 

I spent another month there until I could finally move out. I could tell he was annoyed that I was still there. I remember telling him people aren’t disposable. They don’t disappear when you decide you’re done with them. Thirty days was the absolute minimum I could manage, and even that was an incredible feat.  He asked me to watch the dog, the one he adopted only a couple of months before, while he went out. I remember thinking, “Am I watching this animal so he can go out on dates? No fucking way.” I still don’t know, and I’m glad I don’t. 

He’s not the only quietly shitty guy. There are many. I’m sure bunches of them are being congratulated on their engagements or promotions right now, by people who have never dated them. Have never had the soul-wrenching realization that oh, this person who told you you were their dream and their angel and their moon and stars actually decided like a year ago that they just weren’t feeling it and didn’t have the balls to tell you.  But, feel free to question reality in the meantime! 

Women reading this, beware. There are men who hold up their hands and shrug and say shit like “I wish her the best” and know to use phrases like “emotional labor” to fake enough self-knowledge to start a relationship that they don’t know how to finish.  I encourage you to ask questions. Find out how much they know about themselves. How long their relationships tend to last. If their friends really know them. If they change jobs frequently. If they move states frequently, and why.  But most of all, know yourselves. Know that you deserve to have your questions answered, your emotions validated, and your opinions heard. There are plenty of quietly shitty men to choose from.  You don’t need to choose one.