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in-my-feels-probably · 1 year

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MY HUSBAND CARMEN OMFG PLEAZE CARMEN X READER ALREADY IN A RELATIONSHIP AND IM JUST IMAGINING READER HAVING LIKE TJE WORST DAY POSSIBLE AND LIKE FUCKING EVERYTHING UP AT THE RESTAURANT AND JUSG LIKE PRACTICALLY IN TEARS BY THE END OF THEIR DAY AND CARMEN LIKE GIVES HER A MASSAGE AND TAKES CARE OF HER AND MAYBE LIKE SOME SWEET INTERACTIONS WITH THE OTHERS AT THE RESTAURANT IF IGS OKAY

Mishaps and Bear Hugs

Request: MY HUSBAND CARMEN OMFG PLEAZE CARMEN X READER ALREADY IN A RELATIONSHIP AND IM JUST IMAGINING READER HAVING LIKE TJE WORST DAY POSSIBLE AND LIKE FUCKING EVERYTHING UP AT THE RESTAURANT AND JUSG LIKE PRACTICALLY IN TEARS BY THE END OF THEIR DAY AND CARMEN LIKE GIVES HER A MASSAGE AND TAKES CARE OF HER AND MAYBE LIKE SOME SWEET INTERACTIONS WITH THE OTHERS AT THE RESTAURANT IF IGS OKAY

Hi! Sorry for the wait. I’m still getting used to writing Carmy’s character, so bear with me while I get the hang of it. Thank you for the request, this is a cute idea. I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: a shitty pun in the title, swearing, slight injury, a bad day, let me know if i missed anything)

—

“I’m gonna fucking kill Richie,” you said as you walked back into the kitchen, taking a deep breathe.

“You can’t kill him if he isn’t here,” Marcus called over as he loaded his trays of bread onto the racks.

“I’ll kill him tomorrow, then,” you said, walking over to Tina’s station. “Tina, I am begging you to work the register for a little bit. Richie called out, and I’m going to lose my mind if one more asshole walks in here and tries some shit. I’ll do your work for you, please—”

Tina laughed, putting her knife down. “Alright, alright, we can switch. You’re taking the heat if I slap someone, though.”

“Thank you, thank you,” you sighed in relief, pulling an apron over your head.

Tina nodded, walking through the kitchen doors and into the front of house.

You went back to Tina’s duties, chopping up the vegetables she hadn’t finished. You put a pot on the stove, turning on the burner. You added all the vegetables to the pot, looking around for any stock to boil them down in.

“Sydney, do you know where the stock is? I thought I brought it out this morning.”

“Walk-in, top shelf,” Marcus said, pointing. “Sorry, I thought you were done with it and I put it up.”

“That’s fine, thanks,” you sighed, going to the walk-in.

Of course it had to be on the top shelf. The one thing you needed, just out of reach. You stood on your toes, pulling it down. You managed to get it down off the shelf, but as you adjusted your grip on it when you turned to leave, the lid slipped and the container fell to the floor.

Luckily, the container didn’t turn over and spill. But it did send the stock spurting up at the impact, splashing you. Your apron took the brunt of the impact, but it still splashed up into your hair, coating your shoes.

You groaned, opened the door with your back and pushed through, the container now in your hands. “Marcus! When you put shit back, could you at least make sure the lid is on tight?”

Marcus took one look at you and stifled a laugh, biting his tongue. “Shit, I'm sorry. Need me to grab a towel?”

“Yes,” you muttered, returning to your vegetables.

As you looked in the bottom of the pan, you realized they had begun to blacken on the bottom from not having any liquid in the pot with them. You had taken too long with the stock, and now the vegetables were likely ruined and would need to be re-chopped and boiled.

You groaned, reaching for the handles of the pot to take it off the stove. When your hand touched the pot, it immediately singed your fingers, making you quickly retract them.

“Fuck!” You said, blowing on them to try and stop the heat of the burn. “God, that hurts.”

At all the commotion and the sound of your distressed voice, the door to Carmy’s office opened. He peeked his head out, only to see you standing by the stove, clutching your hand to your chest, fresh tears brewing in your eyes and threatening to fall.

“Hey,” he said softly, coming up to you and holding you by your shoulders. “What happened?”

You scoffed, nearly laughing with anger. What hadn’t happened? What hadn’t gone wrong?

“What happened? What happened is Richie didn’t show up to work, so I had to take his shift on the register. And then a man and his buddies came in and told me I was shit at my job because I couldn’t ring up their five hundred fucking sandwiches they ordered fast enough. So, Tina switched with me and I chopped up her vegetables she had left and put them in a pot. I was gonna boil them down in a stock, but the stock was on the top shelf in the walk-in. I got it down, but the lid wasn’t on tight enough, so it slipped when I got it down and splashed all over me and my hair and my shoes. I went to check the vegetables, and they had already burned to the bottom of the pot because I didn’t get the stock quick enough, so I went to pull the pot off the stove and burned the fuck out of my hand. I’m just having such a shit day, I can’t do anything right, I’m fucking it up for all of you—”

Carmy gently shushed you, taking the towel Marcus had brought over and wiping any stock he could see off of you.

“It’s fine, Y/N, it’s alright. It’s nothing we can’t fix. I don’t care about the stock, I care about that burn. Come with me, alright?”

You shook your head, groaning. “No, I made a mess and I need to clean it—“

Sydney interrupted you, already moving to fix the stock. “Go get your hand checked out, we’ve got this. It’s alright, really.”

“Sorry about the lid,” Marcus said, clapping you on the shoulder.

You shook your head, letting out a breath. “It’s fine. Thanks, guys.”

You let Carmy lead you into his office, staying quiet as he pulled out a first aid kit. He held your hand in his, turning it over to get a good look at the burn.

“It’s not bad. I’m gonna wrap it, though. Does it hurt?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that bad. It hurts less than my pride, that’s for sure.”

Carmy let out a chuckle as he wrapped your hand, finishing and moving his hand up to smooth over your hair. “You’ve got stock in your hair.”

You knew he was just teasing, and that he didn’t mean anything bad by it, but you could still feel tears well up again. Carmy sighed, pulling you into a hug. He let a hand rest on the back of your head, the other running up and down your back.

“Today fucking sucks,” you muttered into his shoulder. “I’m gonna kill Richie tomorrow.”

“Then who would work the register?” He joked, making you huff.

You pulled back, and Carmy brought a hand up to cup your cheek, wiping away some dried stock. He left his palm there, and you leaned into it, taking a deep breath.

“You’re alright, baby. Shitty day, I know. Tomorrow will be better.”

“That’s eerily optimistic coming from you,” you grinned, making Carmy smile.

“I didn’t say it would be better for me,” he said, bending down to put away the first aid kit. “But it’ll be better for you. Richie will be back, and you can yell at him tomorrow. I’ll put you with Marcus, he’s doing cakes tomorrow. You can help him, alright?”

You nodded, moving to wrap your arms around his waist. Your voice was quiet, defeated. “Thank you.”

Carmy pressed a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He gently rocked you back and forth, and you could instantly feel yourself ease in his hold.

“You’re welcome, baby.”

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry this is a little short, I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for the request!

#carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #the bear #the bear imagine #the bear x reader #the bear hulu

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scribble-dribble-writes · 9 months

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Plastic Hearts - (24)

<<<Prev Next>>>

---

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

---

There was only two ways this was going to go and Ken had prepared for both of it. He had secured a ride with the Nomads back to base, but with the way Ash’s eyes gleamed for revenge anyone who couldn’t tell he had a plan of his own, was foolish. So as he laid his arm over the side of the car feeling the dusty breeze, Ken had to prepare a game of his own.

He slipped Allan a note he had written when he spent the night in his tent, before you had joined him, one with a strategy to get the vials to weird Barbie and also to secure a safe passage for you, if in case something went wrong. Noting that now everything was plunged into a sense of uncertainty, he had to fall back to coming to terms with a possibility that he didn’t want to dwell on too much.

The Barbie driving the car seemed to be more focused on the road and following orders from Ash, who was seated in the passenger seat, that it gave Ken a narrow window to set up the dominoes for his alternate plan. He quietly opened the flap to his satchel, the vials were still intact, the water in it still held its mirror like quality.

He settled into the seat with relief. Slowly, he pulled out the two tubes, making sure it didn’t clink against each other and placed it safely into Allan’s hands.

Allan quietly secured them within his jacket pocket and patted on it, signing to Ken that it was safe. Ken tilted his head in a slight nod before he got set on his next step as he watched Allan read the note he had passed.

He struck up a conversation with Ash, pretending to want a more clearer understanding on how he could pass you over to the nomads, asking questions with an underlying trap of getting into their heads.

The note he gave to Allan was instructing him of two things. To pass the vials on to weird Barbie in a chance he was unable to. And the second, arguably the most important, was to make sure you got to go home no matter what happened.

Allan found his gaze with worry in his eyes but Ken looked away. He had to be realistic. He had to prepare for the worst and the worst being …

He hated the thought. There just wasn’t enough time. There never was.

He caught sight of the dark horizon line come to life with a flaming orange sky. His fingers laced together, he wanted to go home. Now it was difficult to seek comfort without thinking of you. It felt like a thousand needles beginning to prick his heart all at once.

Approaching the now faded city, the rebel base looked prepared for their arrival. Rebels lined the edge of the entrance as they monitored the nomads and their movement. He only wished now that you stayed where you were. Then all he had to do was send Allan in under the pretext that he was getting you out, to then with the help of the rebels out here to try to take on Nomads to buy you time.

“I need you to stay here.”, weird Barbie stated but you couldn’t just sit here.

“No.”, you replied as you fastened your belt and threw on a jacket.

“There are so many variable pieces in motion and all this has only one sole purpose, Ken’s the bait you’re the prey.”, she explained and you knew too but it just didn’t seem fair. To have to sit out, to have him bear the brunt of it all while you were put in a glass box.

“Precisely, I'm going to give them what they want.”, you said, your body tensing up at the fact that Ken was in danger.

“That could put everyone at risk. Ken –

“Ken’s been risking his life, for me. You can’t just tell me to sit this one out, because I won’t.”, you turned to her eyes blazing.

“I won’t forgive myself if he, if he…”, you couldn’t bring yourself to finish that sentence, weird Barbie sighed as though she had solved the reason behind your outburst.

“It all makes sense now.”, the edge of her lip tipped up as she pushed away from her seat.

“He’s in love with you and you’ve fallen all over again.”, she shook her head as she smiled.

The thrum of your heart only seemed to pick up more, to now beat with purpose. But the happiness in her smile faded to only be left with sadness.

“Oh Ella, there’s something you should know.”, she began but a harsh knock on the door drew your attention away.

“They’re here.”, Midge alerted you and weird Barbie.

Nothing else mattered. He was here.

What was there to know?

That falling in love with him was a bad idea?

It always was.

But you couldn’t control it. He was springtime, when he was around your winter disappeared on its own. He was soft like the sunset, he was the moon in your dark nights. It was easy, it felt like you had known him for years, the moment his eyes found yours, it was as though the world disappeared.

It was a bad idea because you knew if you lost him, no one else could compare, he was irreplaceable.

So you made your way to the entrance, the harsh dry air wrapping it’s touch around you, you shielded your eyes against the sun when you caught a glimpse of his sandy blonde hair.

Backflip Ken had his eyes pinned on you, his ragged t-shirt and disheveled hair making him look all the more crazy but he stuck to his perimeter. He got out the car to recline against the bonnet.

But you only had your eyes set on one person and you didn’t have to fight for it, he had already set his sights on you. The soft smile spreading across his face like he was a man lost in the desert discovering water. Allan was the first to get out, his quick steps, his worried expression all of it only seemed to paint an alternate picture.

This didn’t seem like a gathering for a peace treaty, it was a trade off.

Ken’s the bait you’re the prey.

You were the exchange.

Maybe it was madness, maybe it was the verge of the world being at the end. But you only wanted to draw closer, to ease the palpitations, because with every second that passed, it felt like there was an evident part of the plot you were missing, somehow making him drift away from you.

Weird Barbie came to stand by your side just as Allan reached both of you. He was slick with how he opened his jacket, to place the vials in weird Barbie’s hands but she pulled him into a hug. Her eyes closing in relief knowing he was safe. But his attention was on you. He held onto the edge of your jacket just to make sure you weren’t going to slip out of his hold.

“You shouldn’t be out here.”, he spoke in hushed tones but your focus was on Ken. He got out the car, but only made it to the middle. His gaze telling you to leave.

“We’ve got the vials, get the skates. You need to go home.” Allan continued which now seemed more like an order.

“Why isn’t he coming in?”, you took a step forward but Allan held you back, his hold on your arm tightening.

“I promised him to get you home.”, was all he said when all these hidden motives in this game that was out of your reach began to bother you.

“Why isn’t he joining us, Allan?”, you asked fighting against his hold.

“He’s going to hold them off for us.”, he said, his voice resonating with the defeat you felt in your bones.

The nomads were everywhere, he wouldn’t last in a fight with those odds, let alone face them all on his own. There was a limit to which he could be self sacrificial and this was that. This wasn’t part of the plan. You were in it together. You had an equal right to protect him too. So you broke free from Allan’s hold.

Your feet knew where to go, your fingers wanted to hold him again as you ran across the open ground, your eyes began to blur. How dare he. How dare he come up with this ridiculous attempt to save you.

He stood with his shoulders slumped in the middle, between the rebels and the nomads. His plan was failing and he was unable to come to terms with the ending. His wants and desires where never brought into question. It was always going to be this way. So why was it that he stood there waiting to feel your arms around him one last time?

You crashed into him, your cheek pressed against his chest, his hands wrapping around your waist as he held you tight, the world grew silent and you could feel the wet stains on your skin. There was nothing to hide now.

“You lied to me.”, you spoke into his chest and it broke his heart.

“I need you to go back inside.”, he whispered, his lips touching the edge of your ear.

“Then you’re coming with me.”, you wound your fingers around his wrist, his heartbeat rapid and quick.

“Brie.”, he fought his feelings that were beginning to tear through his calm demeanor.

“Let me make this right.”, you held his hands together, thinking of any excuse to get him to change his mind.

“I promised. I promised to not leave your side.”, you paused, your eyes scanning his to get him to agree, to stop this foolish act.

“We can take them together. The rebels are armed.”, you reached to trace his cheek, he leaned into it. The wounds of his face were still fresh.

Maybe he still has a chance. That his fate wasn’t decided by magic and rules. He smiled, any chance to walk away from this with you, he was going to take it.

“So, we fight then.”, he placed his forehead on yours.

“We fight for us.”, you whispered, a laugh escaping you despite the dire situation.

“You’re taking too long buddy.”, he heard Ash’s impatience.

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind.”, Ken turned to face him, his hand holding you behind him protectively.

Ash yelled out in frustration as his raging gaze found you. He paced back and forth.

“Fine. No more diplomatic solutions.”, he warned as he shrugged his shoulders. But as he said it explosives set off.

A war zone. That was were you were now, but this time you weren’t running. You were going to fight. You pulled out your weapon, it activated into a pole that had a taser in the end.

Nomads began to circle in on you and Ken, their focus mostly resting on you.

But this was Barbieland after all, anything was possible if you believed in it.

So you got into a defensive stance, your back pressed up against Ken’s as he held out his fists, ready to take anyone down.

And with that, it was a flash of electricity, the smelled of charred fabric and the whish of his hands slicing through the air.

“I never knew you could fight.”, you spoke over your shoulder to feel his low laugh reverb through you.

“I got jumped once. Took a few classes and trained in defensive arts.”, he threw you a look before he ducked from a kick.

You got low to swipe a Barbie’s feet causing her to stumble, using that moment you drove your taser in till she couldn't get back up.

“How does a chef know how to fight?”, he asked as he threw a punch.

“Come on Ken, always be afraid of a chef and her pans.”, you laughed. Somehow even in the thick of a fight, there was this sync. In how he moved with you, as though you could track and shadow eachother’s steps. The magnetic pull to him grew intense, as if you were stuck in a vacuum.

When you looked around, no one was standing. You stopped to catch your breath as he looked at you, a triumphant smile on his face.

This was it. The other’s were being taken care of by the rebels, but his pocket grew hot. It was where he had put the crystal from the mine.

Before he could reach for it, he felt pain seep through his side, only to see a dagger plunged into his body. Ash stood beside him. Ken’s gaze turned to you, his voice seemingly getting lost in his throat.

You turned to ask Ken if he was interested into making this relationship long term, forever in fact. There was no point in hiding and wasting time when you knew that he was the one. But your heart stopped, to see him now crumbled to his knees, his shirt seeped dark brown. Behind him stood a manic Ash who was stepping towards you.

"How does that feel?", he seethed.

"To lose your twin flame in a second?", he drawled as he cornered you.

You fell back as you tried to get away from him as Ken reached for you, his eyes shedding tears holding back the pain.

Ash was going to get you, you were sure of it.

“Because of you, I’ve lost it all. My home, my love, everything.”, he spit out but as he brought down the dagger, he missed your form, then stumbled and fell.

He laid next to you, fast asleep.

You scurried away from him but as you looked around you, everyone was beginning to fall asleep, the sky had begun to flow in reverse. The whole scene had frozen to have individuals collapsing where they stood.

You then found weird Barbie, hold an empty vial, its content spilt over the doomsday skates that Allan held.

The skates had begun to restore itself so that only meant one thing, you were out of time.

You turned back to Ken who laid on his back clutching to his side. You yelled out for weird Barbie’s help. Both her and Allan rushed to your aid but it was hopeless now. He was there in front of you, his hand reaching for yours.

“Save him, bring a med kit.”, you said frantically, your hands holding his.

"I can’t.", weird Barbie said, her voice quivering. Allan looked like he was in shock, his eyes roaming over Ken's leaking injury.

"We’re all still dolls but he’s human. That's what I've been trying to tell you.", she said in an urgency that was mixed with wonder.

"His wish wasn’t real but somehow his love for you made it possible.", she elaborated but your mind was racing with ways in which you try to help him.

"Brie.", his soft course tone brought you out of your thoughts.

"How do I save him?", you pleaded, looking towards weird Barbie in the hopes of an answer.

"The reset.", she said with certainty.

"You have to complete the spell.", she pointed towards the skates that were now fully restored.

"It will send you back and restore him to how it was.", she explained and knowing that wasn't much use. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. This was supposed to be a new beginning but now it was rather a goodbye.

"Brie, I got everything I’ve ever wanted with you.", he struggled to speak between his gasps for air but he held you close.

"This has always been the end of my story.", his eyes softened when they found yours, you shook your head. He had wanted to live, he wanted so much more and it was all hard to believe when he was trying to convince you with tears in his eyes.

"But you need to go home.", he said finally.

"I can’t.", you broke down.

"You are my home.", you pulled his hand up to your chest, your heart was no longer held together anymore. You lean further to hug him, unwilling to let go. It wasn't fair, that he had saved you but you couldn't do the same.

"Like any fairytale, true loves kiss seals the spell.", Allan finally spoke, as he placed his hand on your shoulder to reassure you.

You pull away from Ken, but he doesn't let you move too far before his hand cups your cheek.

The light in his pocket began to grow bright, its pure white light beginning to touch everything around you. Allan slowly fell into a sleep and finally weird Barbie did too.

Now it was only you and him.

"I’ll always remember you", he whispered and you couldn't fight against him anymore. He pulls you in to kiss you, with a passion and force that he wanted to experience as much as he could.

You felt his soft lips on yours and you stayed in that moment holding onto his hands on your cheek as long as you could, the white light grew brighter that it finally blinded you.

---

Firstly, pls forgive me. Secondly, the story still continues 👀

Never say never

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#barbie movie 2023 #barbie movie #ken barbie #barbie #ken carson #ken x y/n #ken x you #ken x reader #ryan gosling ken #ryan gosling #ken fic #ken fluff

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miamochi-writes · 1 year

Text

Shake It Off

Modern!Vash x Reader

A/n: Not a request, but I’ve been wanting to write more AUs and Modern Trigun posts. This is my take on what Vash would do as a boyfriend if the reader had a bad day. I definitely wanted to dedicate this one to @whirlwindimagines Hope you like it Whirl! <3

It was another typical day of working in the office. Clock in, say hi to your coworkers, hype yourself up with coffee, do your tasks, snack break, and just survive at the end of the day. That was until you had an angry client bursting through the door.

“You! I want to speak to your manager right now!” she demanded as you took a deep breath. So much for a normal day. You mentally prepared yourself with what this person was going to throw at you. Clearing your throat, you prepped your customer service voice before engaging with the client.

“Hi, I’m sorry what seems to be the problem?” you asked. Sure enough, the lady was complaining about the service she received. She specifically wanted a refund because the service she got ‘did not meet her standards.’ Apparently she was not happy because she wasn’t seen exactly at 9:00 even though she was seen at 9:02. Furthermore, she felt lied to because the service promised it would be the best she received and that it was adequate at best. So if she had a problem then she would make it everyone’s problem.

“Ma’am I’m sorry to hear about that, but I can’t give you a refund. Our policy states that we can only give a refund if you cancelled your appointment or if we didn’t cover the full service. Which our records show we did give you the full hour,” you explained.

“How dare you talk back to me! Do you know who I am?! I demand that you give me a refund! Where is your manager so I can report you!” she yelled as you just took the brunt of the verbal accusations.

“Ma’am, I don’t make the rules. I just work here, and our manager is currently traveling right now so it might take awhile for them to get a hold of them or even hear back from them,” you tried explaining. But this just made her yell even more about how you were incompetent to work here. You didn’t ask for this, and wondered why you haven’t bothered to turn in your two weeks notice.

Then out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar tall ray of sunshine with blonde hair that you can recognize from a mile away. Vash was passing by your area and saw what was happening. He noticed the scene unfolding and how uncomfortable you were growing with each passing second. Then he started mimicking the lady with the most absurd facial expressions. His mouth moved almost the exact same time as hers while he placed his hands on his hips like she was. If she yelled, he made it twice as funny with him being over the top with his actions. You had to hold back from laughing or even cracking a smile as you pursed your lips as hard as you could.

“HEY! Are you even listening to me?!” the lady snapped at you as she brought your attention back to her. Before you could react, Vash knocked at your door.

“Hi there! What seems to be the problem?” he asked. As the lady proceeded to tell him everything she told you, Vash offered her to follow him as he would handle things. Somehow, Vash just knew how to handle and deescalate these kinds of situations with his can-do personality. As he took the lady away from you while she was talking his ear off, Vash flashed you a wink and a smile before leaving. That was when you remembered, the only reason you hadn’t left this job was because of Vash, your boyfriend.

You had been going out for more than half a year now. Despite being in different departments, you managed to find time together. Eventually, you fell for his natural charms, while he fell harder the more he got to know more about you. The both of you practically shared many things in common. He liked how you treated him normally unlike other people when they saw his prosthetic arm. Plus, you were always patient with him no matter what he threw at you and kept your promises which he absolutely adores.

Even though work could be rough, you tended to do small gestures for your coworkers and him. Whether it would be cheering them up through sharing memes, getting them a snack, or write down small appreciative notes the action never went unnoticed. At least with Vash. So whenever you were having a hellish day or struggling to keep up, he was always there to support you in any way possible.

Later on that day, you were coming back from a meeting that definitely could have been summed up in an email. Once you came back to your work space, you noticed a tall pink drink in a plastic cup and a note attached to it. Upon closer inspection, the note read:

“May your day be as sweet as this strawberry smoothie. I love you! x - Your favorite bf in the entire world”

A smile made its way to your face after reading the note Vash left you. He always knew how to cheer you up. Plus, you noticed he went out of his way to get you your favorite drink from your favorite place. Just the way you liked it. How did you get lucky to have Vash in your life? you questioned as you took a sip from your drink before going back to work.

~*~

Once work was over, Vash was eagerly waiting for you at his car as he waved at you. You gave him a tired smile as you got into the passenger seat.

“So how was your day today?” he asked with his pearly whites.

“Could be better. I’m just ready for today to be over,” you sighed as you rubbed your temple of your head. More work piled up throughout the day and a few more people came to give you a piece of their mind several times. But you reassured Vash that you appreciated the things he did for you today.

“Aw I’m sorry to hear Y/n. I hope things get better tomorrow. But at least you get to be with me now!” he reassured you as he planted a sweet and tender kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks Vash, you’re the best,” you said while smiling at him. You felt anytime Vash showed his affection towards you, all your problems slowly melted away.

“Plus now that we’re here, I think this calls for a little pick-me-up,” he suggested as he pulled out his phone and started playing the one song you figured he would pick from your shared playlist.

I stay out too late~

Got nothing in my brain~

You loved how you got him into Taylor Swift, but the both of you knew that this particular song is banned from playing in the car. Vash would constantly overplay that song whenever he had the chance (especially when you spent the night at his place and caught him playing this at 5am in the morning). But after the day you had today, you figured this would be an exception as you started bopping your head to the upbeat tune. Once Vash noticed you didn’t make the effort to skip or the stop the song, he beamed at his small victory.

He backed out from the parking lot as he put his arm behind your seat. As he drove you back home, he would start dancing along to the song while singing the lyrics. He wasn’t a bad dancer at all, and his upbeat attitude was infectious. He would do a little shimmy and get you to sway with him whenever he stopped at a red light. You joined in on the fun as you both sang and danced along to the song. You were smiling ear to ear knowing that Vash did everything in his power to make sure your day ended on a high note.

Once you arrived at your apartment, Vash suggested ordering takeout from your favorite restaurant. He wanted to treat you which you didn’t deny. While he did that, you changed into your most comfortable clothes and decided to put on your favorite show. Once Vash came back from picking up the food, he took his seat next to you on the couch. Before he could hand you over your food, he put his face close to yours and flashed you a playful smirk.

“Before you get this food, you need to answer these questions correctly,” he piped up as you laughed knowing where this was going.

“Who’s your favorite?” he asked.

“You,” you answered as he gave you a peck on the lips.

“Correct! Now who’s my favorite?” he asked once more.

“Me,” you said matter-of-factly. Once again he gave you another kiss, but this time you made it a bit longer as you pulled him closer to you. He loved it when you did this and smiled into the kiss.

“Correct again! As a reward, your food and cuddles,” he answered as he handed you your meal. The both of you started eating your food while watching the show. Once you finished eating, Vash hugged you close to his side as you rested your head on the crook of his neck.

No matter what the day threw at you, Vash knew how to take care of you and put a smile on your face at the end of the day. Whether it be getting you to crack a smile, laugh until your sides hurt, or shower you with kisses, Vash will make it known just how much he loves and appreciates you. Just like how he started the day, he ended the night with giving you a soft and warm-hearted kiss.

#vash x reader #vash au #vash x you #vash x y/n #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede #vash reboot #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede x y/n #trigun fic #modern trigun #vash fic #modern au #miamochi writes

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babygirlbenji · 1 year

Text

can't take my eyes off you - mason mount | ch 1

this has been inspired by one of my favourite songs ever! can't take my eyes off you by moreton harket, listen here <3 i think i kinda went to town on this one, i promise there will be more mason x reader content in the next chapter! enjoy!

wc 1.9k

You can vividly remember the day you knew you wanted to be a sports journalist. You were 6, at a football match with your dad, and you were watching the journalists interview the players after a big game. Declaring to your father that you wanted to be ‘the person with the big stick thing’ (he assumed you meant the journalists), and despite his worries that you would be out of your depth, being a woman in a very much male-dominated environment, he assured you that he and your mother would do their best to make sure you got to wherever you wanted to be.

Just as your mum and dad had promised, you graduated with a degree in journalism and media studies at the University of Portsmouth. Your dad was with you every step of the way, from your orientation day right up until you walked across the stage to receive your degree. He had beamed up at you as you smiled proudly for your photo, scroll in hand.

All of these moments led up to your first few days of interning at BBC Sport. You were the bottom of the pack, the runt. If the producer wanted coffee, you got it. No questions asked. If the director needed a different camera, you ran to get it. If the editor needed a re-take, you were the one to break the news to the producer, and dealt with the brunt of the shouting. It gave you a thick skin, and built character, as you laughed about it with your family at the end of the day.

Little did you know that this moment, in turn, would lead to you finding the love of your life.

‘Y/L/N!’ Your boss barked from his office. You loved your job, but you couldn’t help but feel that your genuine talent was being wasted. You had been there for three months, and the most you had done was assisted with editing a package for some golf competition. You wanted to be out in the field, you wanted to be meeting players, you wanted to be networking, doing actual journalism. Nevertheless, you hurried into your boss’s office.

‘Yes?’

‘Olivia is going to Stamford Bridge to do a package for the Premier League, are you in?’ Your mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. ‘Well?’ His tone was brash; you hated being spoken to like this.

‘Yes, yes! Of course!’ He instructed you to take a camera and microphone in case Olivia’s equipment broke, so you ran to the kit room, hurriedly packed a kit bag and ran out to the car park.

You had worked with Olivia, one of the lead BBC Sport journalists, only a handful of times. She was very nice, knew and loved her job, and enjoyed nurturing people who were new to the industry.

‘Y/N, hi, the boss told me you were shadowing me today.’ You hoped your nervousness didn’t convey too much in your smile.

‘Yep, you’ve got me today! Stamford Bridge, right?’

‘Indeed! You ready to go?’ Olivia checked she had everything in the back of the car, before hopping in on the driver’s side.

‘Absolutely!’

The drive to the Bridge took about half an hour, and Olivia was soon pulling up into the visitor’s car park. Nerves were fluttering around in your stomach, but you pushed them away. This was your chance to prove that you had what it took to be a BBC Sports journalist, something you’d been dreaming about for over a decade. You weren’t about to let this opportunity go just because you were nervous.

You and Olivia were shown around the premises, her asking questions to your guide about the best places to film, while you were staring in awe at the beauty of it. It may have been one of England’s oldest stadiums, but it was still stunningly beautiful. You could practically feel the years of history looking down at you.

What you didn’t realise was someone was staring in awe… at you. You’d reached the pitch, which was so much bigger than it did on TV, and there were a few footballers at the other end of the pitch. You heard snippets of the plan for today, things about angles, lunch breaks, which footballer was going to be interviewed and when…

‘Here we are, boys, this is Olivia and Y/N, ladies, I’m sure you know who these boys are already but just to avoid any confusion, this is Ben Chilwell, Reece James, and Mason Mount.’ You shook hands with all of them, Mason’s eyes lingering on you just a fraction of a second longer than they should have done. You missed this completely, though, having focused your attention back on Olivia as she ran the footballers through what the plan for the day was.

First came general shots of the boys walking through Stamford Bridge, down the grandstands, onto the field and ready for their interviews, which came second. Your job was simple: assist Olivia.

‘Right, Mason and Ben, if you want to start walking towards Reece, you need to act like you’re meeting each other at the start of the day. Think bro hugs, fist bumps, big smiles, that sort of thing.’ The boys obediently followed Olivia’s instruction, and you were secretly glad you weren’t the lead journalist on this one, because the boys somehow always managed to find ways to make each other laugh and ruin the shot.

Eventually, Olivia had reached her limit and she called for a short break. Which meant that she got to sit down for 15 minutes, while you tidied up the gear and made sure the camera was charged up ready for the next few shots.

‘Hey,’ a somewhat-nervous voice came from behind you. You squeaked slightly, turning around and then wishing you hadn’t squeaked. Mason Mount was standing behind you, a small smile teasing his lips. ‘How come you’re not taking a break like your colleague?’ You shrugged.

‘I’m an intern, so I don’t really get any breaks.’ You sounded like a complete loser, but you couldn’t help it; he was so handsome. You had seen interviews with him, you had stalked his Instagram the night before, and he still took your breath away in person. His brown eyes were like chocolate fondant, and they made you gooey in the middle just like your favourite dessert. ‘It’s okay, though, it gets me experience and connections, and that’s what I’m here for! Not everyone earns tens of thousands of pounds a week.’ You hadn’t meant to say the last bit. You meant to think it. Not say it. Out loud. ‘Oh my god, that came out wrong. Oh no, I’m sorry, that was so rude, I’m sorry…’ You skirted away from Mason and ran towards Olivia. Mason looked at your retreating back. What you had said was right. He didn’t think it was rude.

Mason looked back at Ben and Reece;

‘You alright, hun?’ She asked lightly as she took a bite of her chocolate muffin.

‘How much more do we have left to do?’ She laughed.

‘We finish when we finish. No time limit to journalism.’ Your shoulders sagged.

‘I said something I shouldn’t have said.’

‘Oh well, everyone fucks up sometimes, babe. Think about how many journalists he meets a month, he’ll probably have forgotten your name by tomorrow.’

The break ended, and you and Olivia went back to work. The boys were, by and large, much better behaved in this session, to your relief. Throughout the session, though, you couldn’t help but notice that your eyes wandered back to Mason every spare chance they got. It wasn’t like you could control it; it just… happened. And you couldn’t help but notice that Mason’s eyes often came back to you. Olivia directed him to walk towards the camera, and you were standing behind her. His eyes stayed practically glued to you the whole time.

You practically sighed with relief when Olivia started to put her stuff away. You followed suit, collapsing the tripods, turning off the cameras and making sure to put the memory cards in their holders.

‘Right guys, thanks for today. Nice to meet you all. Package should be out by the end of next week.’ You all shook hands, and you noticed your hand tingling after Mason shook it. Olivia started striding towards the exit, and you turned to follow her, but you felt a hand take yours and pull you back.

‘Y/N…’ Your eyes looked up to meet Mason’s. ‘It is Y/N, isn’t it?’

‘Y-yes, or Y/N/N for short, if you prefer that.’ You didn’t know why you added the last part. Nerves did that to you. ‘And I’m sorry. For what I said earlier. It was out of order and so unprofessional, I’m sorry.’ He chuckled.

‘Don’t worry, love, we all say things we don’t mean sometimes. Doesn’t mean it’s not true though, you’re right.’ You smiled shyly. His pet-name made you weak at the knees (not that you would ever openly admit that), and he seemed like a really genuine guy. The kind of guy your mum would like you to bring home. ‘I can keep an ear out for jobs here if you would like? You seem talented.’ You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows.

‘And you know this how…?’ He joined in with your cheeky laughter, your eyes dancing with mirth. He could listen to your laugh for hours on end and not grow tired.

‘I am the all knowing power of media, didn’t you know?’

‘Alright Mason, back to football.’ It was so easy to laugh with him. Now you’ve passed the initial awkward stage, you could see more and more of your traits in him. You couldn’t help but want to learn more and more about him.

He could tell you were guarded, and he guessed that you had been burned before. He wanted to treat you right, like the most fragile piece of glass that would break if he so much as moved it an inch.

‘Do you want to maybe get a…’ His sentence was cut off by Olivia shouting your name across the pitch. You suddenly remembered that you were on the clock.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry, I need to go, I’ll see you soon!’ He was about to call after you as you ran off, to try and get your number, but you had surprisingly good pace. He made a mental note to challenge you to a sprint when he next saw you.

You sat in the car with Olivia, who kept looking over at you.

‘Alright, what is it?’ you asked, semi-teasingly. ‘Out with it, come on!’ She laughed. Although she was 20 years older than you, she had the air of a teenager sometimes.

‘You, Mason, Mason, you…’ She teased back.

‘Oh come on, he’d never go for someone like me. He just flirts with everyone, I’ve read the articles.’

‘Y/N, he could not take his eyes off you. Surely that counts for something?’

Her words echoed in your mind as you crawled down the motorway, which had slowed to a walking pace with all the roadworks going on. It made you think of one of your dad’s favourite songs.

You’re just too good to be true,

Can’t take my eyes off you,

You’d be like heaven to touch,

I wanna hold you so much,

You’re just too good to be true,

Can’t take my eyes off you…

You knew that you would meet Mason again. It was just a matter of time.

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schrijverr · 8 months

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I Found Myself a Cheerleader 10

Chapter 10 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, with Starcourt behind them, they try to make it through, which is harder than it seems. Chrissy returns in time for Hopper’s funeral and catches Steve together with Robin, while Steve tries to catch the others.

On AO3.

Ships: eventual steddie and buckingham

Warnings: grief, injury, nightmares, child abuse mention

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 10: The Aftermath

Part of Steve expects to be send away by the Buckley’s the next day, having fulfilled their good Samaritan act for the boy that saved their daughter. However, when he awakes nearly fifteen hours later, it is to Mrs. Buckley – Daisy, sweetie, just Daisy is fine – giving him some soup and asking if he feels up to shower and if he eats anything particular for breakfast, because she still has to go to the store later.

Confused Steve stumbles through an answer, his body still feeling like it has gone through a meat grinder. Daisy gives him a smile and cards a soft hand through his hair, before giving him directions to the shower and telling him to ask Robin if he needs anything.

She leaves to do groceries and is replaced by Robin, who looks way better than Steve. She bounces into the room, sliding onto the couch next to Steve and asks: “How are you feeling, dingus?”

“Confused,” Steve answers. “Your mom is nice.”

“Yeah, she is,” Robin smiles. “I told them your parents are away on business and can’t be reached, but I’m afraid to let you go home by yourself. So, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

“Are you for real?” Steve asks, unable to imagine anyone opening up their home to him without having met him before. It sounds alien.

“I am, promise they’re cool,” Robin tells him with a soft smile. “Now, mom said you felt up to shower and no offense, Stevie, but you smell like sweat, blood and puke, which is like totally not a good smell. You’re excused of course, would be mean not to excuse it, seeing, you know, everything, but shower sounds smart. I’ll show you the buttons.”

She jumps up waiting for Steve to follow. Steve is a little slower, seeing he is more bruise than skin at this point.

The shower itself is painful. The water feels like it is beating down on his skin and the heat makes him lightheaded, but he can’t stand the cold. So, he takes it sitting on the floor of the shower. He washes his hair with Robin’s strawberry shampoo, remembering the smell from when they were tied together in the bunker. It gives him comfort.

Robin has lend him a set of her pajamas, a soft sweater and plaid pajama pants, as well as some fuzzy socks. It takes a bit to get them on, but in the end he feels more human than he has in the last 48 hours.

Dinner should be awkward, but it seems Robin has her rambling from her parents and the three happily fill the silence and let Steve disappear to the background.

With dinner done, the TV is turned on so they can watch the news. Both Robin’s parents protest, but they have to see. Have to be sure the mall is gone. That yesterday truly happened and they didn’t make it up.

So, the TV goes on and the newscaster tells them about the mall that burned down in a firework accident. That many bodies have been recovered, but not all can be identified. Among the confirmed dead are Jim Hopper, hero police chief, and Billy Hargrove.

Steve cries then. Cries for El, who lost her father, who is alone again. Cries for Joyce, who lost the man she could have had something with. Cries for himself and all the thing he never got to tell Hopper and all the things the other never said either. Even cries for Max, who will inevitably grieve for something that wasn’t real and a person who doesn’t deserve it.

Luckily, neither of Robin’s parents say anything about the tears and Robin holds him throughout it all, careful of his injuries.

After that he goes to sleep again on the couch, having gotten used to sleeping at one and not even bothered, despite Daisy’s apologies about it. It is the first night of a week in which he hides away from everyone in the Buckley house, safe with Robin by his side to keep both of them sane.

On the second day there he calls Joyce to check in with her. He told her he was going with the Buckleys that night at the mall, but checks in with her on Saturday anyway.

Quietly they talk about El, who has turned into herself, refusing to speak. How her powers aren’t working anymore and how she isn’t really coping. The poor kid has already been through so much and both Joyce and Steve wonder out loud to the other how they’re going to get her through this.

But after a few minutes neither can continue the topic they’ve been ignoring. It’s Joyce, who mentions it first, saying: “They’re burying Hopper this Tuesday. They- they don’t have a body, but…”

“I know,” Steve says, so she doesn’t have to. “What can I do?”

“They, uhm, they came here also for you,” she tells him. “Hopper wanted- he wanted you to be a pallbearer. You can say no, but-”

“No, no, I’ll do it,” Steve agrees easily. Of course he wants to help in Hopper’s funeral after all he has done for him, of course he wants to fulfill his wishes. “When do I have to be there?”

“At 10:00 AM,” Joyce answer, obviously grateful. “They’re reading his will too, El wants you to be there as well. It’s afterwards. Can you make it?”

“Of course,” Steve promises again, because he’d make all the time in the world for El, to support her after what she’s been through.

“Thank you, Steve,” Joyce sounds haggard and relived. “Bring whoever you want as support, it’s open to the public, so it’s probably going to be big. Lots of people. They wanted me to speak, but I- I can’t.”

Much to Steve’s horror, Joyce starts to cry. He is already bad with comfort and now he can’t even offer a shoulder like he usually does. Steve knows she doesn’t want to burden any of the kids with this, that she would usually go to Hopper about this, that Steve has to take his tasks now, but he’s still pulling a blank.

“It’s- it’s okay, Joyce,” he fumbles. “You don’t have to speak. He- he knows. He knew. You don’t have to say it for everyone.”

The words probably aren’t the best, but it’s what Steve can manage right now. And the words seem to help. A teary Joyce thanks him, before reminding him he’s welcome there any time. It’s a sweet sentiment, but Joyce has her own grief and that of El to deal with. Steve has a place to stay, he’ll be fine. She has to put her focus elsewhere.

So, he assures her he’s fine and to just focus on the people she has at home, before hanging up and going up to Robin’s room, crawling into her bed. He buries his face in her stomach and she plays with his hair as she reads her book, while he tries not to cry.

Robin has become his safe space, as he has become hers.

On the night from Saturday to Sunday he is awoken by Robin, who stands next to the couch, blanket wrapped around her shoulders tremble and she is crying as she softly confesses: “I- I had a nightmare.”

“Want to talk about it?” Steve asks, getting into a seated position, so that she can crawl on the small couch with him.

“I was in the bunker again and you were there, tied- tied to me and I kept calling your name, but this time- this time you didn’t wake up,” Robin is weeping now, burying her face in the crook of Steve’s neck on the less injured side. Her hand is over his heart, so she can feel his heartbeat. “I was tied to your dead body, all alone. I just- I just needed to check.”

“It’s okay, Robbie,” he assures her, nosing the top of her head and planting a kiss there. “I’m alive, I’m okay. We’re okay. We made it out.”

She lets out a shuddery breath and nods, repeating: “We made it out. We made it out.”

“Yeah, we did,” Steve encourages her. “Want to drink some tea or stay here a bit?”

“Some tea, please,” Robin says.

They get up, Steve leading Robin through her own house, where he himself has gotten comfortable in a short amount of time. He parks her on one of the kitchen chairs, but she abandons it in favor of sitting on the counter as Steve starts the kettle, pulling him between her legs as they wait for the water to boil. Just holding him.

Steve can’t remember the last time a person held him this often and tenderly. He melts into her, hugging her back.

The two of them exist like that, intertwined. Robin shuffles along as Steve pours them tea, then shamelessly sits on Steve’s lap as they sip the hot beverage. To distract herself Robin tells him all about this book she has been reading.

When the tea is gone, Steve asks: “Do you feel up to sleeping again, Robs?”

“Probably smart,” Robin says with a yawn, not really answering the question. She clings a bit more to Steve and mumbles: “Just don’t wanna be alone.”

“I- I could come with,” Steve offers, a bit unsure and not wanting to overstep a boundary.

Robin lights up at his offer and says: “You’re a genius, dingus.”

“Your parents won’t mind?” Steve asks, not wanting to get either of them in trouble.

“Nah,” Robin assures him, getting to her feet and grabbing his hand to pull him along.

Her bed is as comfortable at night as it is during the days when he crashed there. He is still injured, only able to sleep on his back and Robin is careful with his injuries, lying next to him and taking his hand. As they lay there together, she says: “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“Me too,” Steve responds. “Though I hate you got dragged into all the crazy with me.”

“I think it’s worth it,” Robin tells him and Steve gets too choked up to say anything, only able to squeeze her hand and she squeezes back.

It’s quiet for a few seconds, then Robin says: “If we were normal, this is where we’d confess our feelings for each other.”

Steve snorts, making a gagging noise that has Robin giggling as well. They lay there laughing for a bit more and when they try to sleep, thoughts of Russian bunkers are further away than thoughts of companionship and understanding.

Sunday passes in a haze. Steve calls all the kids, checking in on them. Mike hangs up after assuring him he’s fine, a bit in a foul mood, since his parents haven’t let him see the others. Lucas and Erica both talk to Steve a bit, neither of them mentioning the 4th and just talking of wanting to try out for basketball and wanting to learn DnD. Dustin talks with him for an hour, both of them crying. Will only speaks to for a bit. El doesn’t want to come to the phone, but Will assures him she’s okay, just going through a rough patch, which is an understatement. Max only says a few words, before hanging up quickly, a fight going on in the background.

Monday brings a new surprise to the Buckley doorstep. Steve is making lunch since Robin’s parents are off to work, so it is Robin who opens the door.

On the doorstep is Chrissy, looking stressed and haggard. Without preamble she starts: “Do you know where Steve is? Because I just came back from camp and I went by his house, because I heard he was at the mall when it burned down, but he didn’t answer and I’m really worried about him, because he always, always opens the door.”

Robin is about to answer when Steve comes wandering into the hall, asking: “Hey, Rob, do you like syrup on your pancakes or-” He looks up and sees Chrissy, smiling when he does: “Chris! I didn’t know you got back today.”

“Stevie,” Chrissy exclaims in relief, before her eyes grow wide as she takes in the state he’s in. She rushes into the house, brushing past Robin without a care as she cups Steve’s unbruised cheek with a concerned face, asking: “Oh my god, are you okay?”

And it is not the question itself that breaks Steve, it has been asked multiple times these last few days, but it is that it’s Chrissy. Chrissy, who has been nothing but sweet and kind to Steve, who has protected him, cheered him up, made sure he wanted to get to school. And even after Steve kind of brushed her off to hide that he has been kicked out, she is still so concerned for him. She went to Robin’s house to look for him.

Tears fall before he’s even aware of them and he crushes Chrissy in a hug that hurts his own ribs and maybe hers, but he doesn’t care, just happy to hold her again.

Chrissy makes a confused noise, however, she quickly moves to hug him back. Her wiry strength should not be underestimated as she sways them side from side, telling him that it’s all okay and to just let it out.

Robin latches onto his back, surrounding him with warmth from his two closest friends. And he cries, like he has done so much these past few days. He wants to stop, but he can’t, so he rides it out and hopes that Chrissy and Robin won’t let go until he’s done.

They don’t.

The three of them hug until Steve is done crying, ignoring the small wet patch on his back and how Robin also sniffles, before clapping her hands and leading them to the kitchen.

There is some batter left, so Steve makes pancakes for Chrissy as well, who hums appreciatively and says: “Steve, I missed your food. Camp food is terrible.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Steve smiles, the compliment warming him up from the inside.

None of them talk about the breakdown in the hall until the pancakes are gone. They just eat in silence and pile the dishes in the sink. It’s only when they’re sitting on the couch, their bellies full, that Chrissy asks: “What happened?”

Steve and Robin exchange a look, before Steve says: “I- I don’t really know. We were out late and closing up when we heard explosions, I suppose the fireworks, before we really knew it the whole mall was going up in flames around us.”

Robin jumps in, interjecting the made up hero story she told her parents: “We were like stuck in the shop and it was terrible. We couldn’t get out until a part of the front caved in and we could climb out. I got stuck and Steve pulled me out, but like a bunch of rubble fell on him. If he hadn’t had done it, well I- I might’ve-”

It’s getting a little too close to the truth now and Robin chokes up. Steve takes her hand and they smile at each other, a reassurance that they’re okay.

“Chief- Chief Hopper got us out,” Steve builds on the fiction they made. “He went back in to help and he- he didn’t-”

“Oh my god, that’s terrible,” Chrissy gasps, hearing their story with horror.

“The funeral is tomorrow,” Steve whispers. “They asked me to be pallbearer. They don’t have a- a body,” he swallows, “so it’s just going to be the casket. It’s ceremonial.”

“Do you want us to be there?” Chrissy asks and if Steve was straight he would've kissed her for offering so he wouldn’t have to ask.

“If you don’t mind,” he says softly, hoping she doesn’t.

Chrissy bumps her shoulder against his, a familiar move, and smiles: “Of course I don’t mind, Stevie.”

“Thank you,” he smiles back. He appreciates Chrissy so much, all she’s done for him, how she’s here for him without question. He feels bad about how he shut her out after the fight with his father, not telling her that he got kicked out. Another realization hits him and he says: “Fuck, I don’t have anything to wear tomorrow.”

“You don’t have a black suit?” Chrissy frowns.

Steve catches Robin’s wide eyes that ask ‘are you aware what you’re doing’ and he communicates back that he does, before answering: “I do, I just- well, I got kicked out by my parents. They changed the locks.”

“What!” Chrissy exclaims.

“Sorry for not telling you,” Steve says. “I didn’t want to worry you. It happened after graduation, remember that fight?”

“Holy shit, Steve,” Chrissy frowns. “That is terrible, I knew your parents were dicks, but this is a new low. What the hell? I’m going to fight them, I swear to God, I am, Stevie. Not a joke. They can’t just do that!”

Steve is touched by her anger on his behalf, but he is also realistic. He gives her a crooked smile and says: “I am an adult now, Chris. They can do that.”

“And what do you think of that?” Chrissy asks Robin, still full of righteous anger.

Robin looks a bit like a deer in headlights, eyes flitting between Chrissy and Steve. She stammers out: “Uh, I- I think they’re assholes?”

“See,” Chrissy tells Steve.

Steve quirks a brow at Robin, who glares at him in turn, before saying: “I already knew they were assholes, Chris. They just also have every right to kick me out if they want to.”

“I know you know that,” Chrissy huffs. “I’m just not going to let them get away with giving you nothing to wear to Chief Hopper’s funeral.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Steve asks, curious for her answer, since he has never seen her like this before.

“We’re going to break in,” Chrissy smiles mischievously.

“What?” Steve chokes.

“You can’t be serious,” Robin exclaims, eyes bulging out of her eyes.

“Come on, Stevie, you said yourself we have to try not to care right?” Chrissy pleads. “I’m sure you’ve snuck in from time to time, you must have a route. Everyone does. And it’s not like they’re going to be home to catch us.”

“I don’t know, Chris,” Steve says, even though he would love to grab a few things he forgot in his haste to pack that first time. It’s still risky.

Robin, however, seems to have gotten over her inhibitions and offers: “We can put shrimp in the air conditioning, give them a true surprise to come home to.”

“No,” Steve says. “We’ll break in, but no pranks.”

“Ugh, fine,” Robin rolls her eyes, while Chrissy just squeals in excitement.

So, Steve drives them to his old house in the car the government kindly brought over yesterday. He is technically not cleared to drive yet, but Chrissy doesn’t know that and if Robin heard, she doesn’t mention it.

The house is still looming, cold and dark. Steve can’t imagine how he lived there all those years without it creeping him out.

They sneak into the backyard to get to Steve’s room. His window broke and he never told his parents, afraid to get into trouble, which now works in his favor. He tells the girls about the window and adds: “But I’m too bruised to climb the pipe.”

“Don’t look at me, I’m clumsy,” Robin immediately defends herself, before Steve could even suggest her. He’s seen her run for her life, which had been less than stellar, so he already wasn’t planning on asking her.

Chrissy, however, also looks unsure and apologetically says: “I’ve always been a horrible climber. I have terrible grip.”

“I’m gonna boost you up,” Steve tells her. “Standing on my hands as we practiced. You can easily reach then.”

“Lisa will kill us if she heard we did that without back spotter,” Chrissy points out, though she has a glimmer in her eyes.

“Lisa doesn’t have to know,” Steve grins. “Besides, Robin can catch you if you fall.”

“I most definitely cannot,” Robin protests, but is ignored by the two others, who get into position.

The stunt is one they performed in their final competition, so they feel comfortable doing it without back spotter. Steve puts his hands on Chrissy’s hips and she jumps, giving him the momentum to throw her higher, before catching her on the palms of his hand. From that position, she easily scrambles onto the roof, disappearing into Steve’s old room and appearing a few moments later to unlock the backdoor for them.

“I can’t believe I broke into your house,” she whispers as Robin and Steve enter as well. None of them turning on the lights, because they don’t want to be spotted by neighbors and the afternoon sun is enough, even through the closed curtains.

“It’s okay, I gave you permission, pin it on me,” Steve tells her easily, looking around the room and taking it in.

His parents have left all the furniture without covers, so a light dust coats it, since Steve hasn’t been there to clean. They might get ruined, but his mother will likely redecorate. There are also two cups and plates in the sink with questionable contents, since Steve hasn’t washed their dishes after they left. It makes him both sad and a little vindictive.

He is pulled out of his thoughts by Robin, who is standing by the piano and exclaims: “Wow, this is a really nice piano. Can you play, dingus?”

“I can actually,” Steve replies. It had been part of his education on how to behave like his social standing.

“You can?” Chrissy comments. “I always assumed it was decorative.”

“Yeah, I can,” Steve says, sitting down on the stool and pressing a few keys. It’s not entirely in tune after years of disuse, but it is good enough.

Chrissy goes to sit down next to him and asks: “Can you play We’ll Meet Again? My grandfather used to play it for me whenever I was little.”

“Sure,” Steve says, starting to play the slightly sad song. He only knows it, because his piano teacher had been a nurse during the war and it had been popular then.

When he is done playing, he gets a small applause from Chrissy and Robin and he smiles at them, before closing the piano and saying: “Well, that’s enough for now. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible.”

His room is like he left it, still a mess from when he packed in a hurry. It’s like his parents closed the door and pretended that would make him go away. Likely, they just couldn't be bothered to clean up as they had to leave again soon after.

Steve first folds his suit and neatly packs it into the bottom of one of the bags they brought with them. Then he packs a few more of the other clothes he left there, favorites he forgot, some more underwear, a few warm sweaters for the upcoming winter, two extra pair of jeans that aren’t the most comfortable, but better than nothing.

After that is done, he braves to open a door he hasn’t since he was twelve years old. His father’s study.

The desk still stands there, imposing and sturdy. Steve is momentarily transported to all the times he stood in front of that desk as his father berated him or made him stand there, waiting until he was deemed worthy of attention as his father worked.

He shakes it off and moves behind the desk, putting in the code to the safe that his father had told him for emergencies, praying the man had forgotten to change it.

Steve is in luck, because the safe clicks open. There is ample of money in there and despite his lack of finances, he doesn’t take it. He doesn’t actually want a robbery charge. Instead, he searches under them and gets his birth certificate and other papers. Things that are necessary to have.

With those tucked away, he tells the other two to get out of there. He contemplates grabbing a new key, just to fuck with his parents, but decides against it. Best if no one will ever learn they were there.

So, they return everything as closely to how they found it as they can and sneak back out.

It’s now nearing dinner, so Steve drops of Chrissy at home, hiding so it looks like Robin drove her there. Robin is also the one to walk her to the door, being grilled as Stevie by Chrissy’s mother until she is satisfied.

“Chrissy’s mom is terrifying,” Robin hisses when she gets back to the car.

“I know, glad you survived, Robbie,” Steve tells her with a grin.

“She thinks I’m a cheerleader, Steve,” Robin says. “She asked if being a base was hard with my build. I don’t even know what a base is! I can’t lie. Chrissy stepped on my foot, before I could dig myself into a hole. I nearly died.”

“Well, thank you for your service, drama queen,” Steve rolls his eyes as he continues to drive, luckily all going well, despite the injuries. “But I’m sure you can manage. Cheer isn’t that hard to grasp, though maybe hard for you to do.”

“You know, I get that that was an insult, but I will ignore that, because I am nice,” Robin sniffs, haughtily.

“You aren’t nice.”

“Shut up, dingus,” Robin says, smacking him lightly. “What I meant to say is; you need to tell me more about cheer so that I can pretend to be a cheerleader to Chrissy’s mom and we can all continue to hang out together.”

The shit eating, teasing grin disappears from Steve’s face and he can’t help but sound surprised as he asks: “You want to hear me talk about cheer? You said you hated sports.”

“I mean, I do,” Robin shrugs, looking a bit uncomfortable. “But you like sports. And you’re like my best friend. I wanna know about your sports.”

“That- that is honestly so sweet,” Steve tells her, having to swallow, so he won’t cry.

“Shut up,” Robin says, suspiciously not looking his way.

That evening Steve tells Robin all about cheer, the two of them pointedly not talking about what they did today and what is going to happen tomorrow. Instead going over cheer formations and types of stunts and positions in the team until they’re tired, Steve falling asleep in Robin’s bed again, without either of them commenting on that as well.

On Tuesday 9th of July, they bury Chief Jim Hopper.

Out of all the pallbearers, Steve and Jonathan are the ones that are not police. Steve is walking in the front and then the right, so his injured side doesn’t hit the casket. He is well aware of the large crowd of people staring at his beat up face, the rumors that are going around.

Steve wills himself not to cry, he has done enough of that already and today he needs to be strong for Joyce and El, who have suffered a much greater loss than him. He is aware of how light the casket is, how there is no body and no closure for them. It makes it easier on his bruised body, but he gladly would’ve suffered the pain to give them that.

His suit is from prom and luckily still fits. He looks like he has more money to his name than he does, but he’s not complaining about it. Though, he feels guilty at the thought.

He purposefully doesn’t look at the crowd, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze. He just stares straight ahead, his face stony.

Once the casket is positioned for burial, Steve lets go and follows Jonathan to where Joyce is standing with El and Will. Joyce falls into Jonathan’s arms and Steve takes El, who had been hiding in Joyce’s side.

The five of them watch the burial like that. Will next to his older brother, who has one arm on Will’s shoulder. Jonathan’s other arm around his mother as she cries silent tears. Joyce holds Steve’s hand tightly and Steve holds it right back. El is under Steve’s other arm and he hugs her as best as he can, ignoring how his ribs twinge.

Throughout the entire ceremony, Steve doesn’t cry. He keeps up his impersonation of a statue and looks ahead. He is their rock now. He is keeping it together.

Only when the grave is filled and the Byers get ready to leave, does Steve turn around, El is still stuck to his side and he just keeps holding her. He spots the Buckleys in the crowd, already coming his way to support him, and catches Chrissy’s eyes, who sends him a sympathetic look, stuck next to her mother.

Daisy kisses his cheek and hugs him tightly, while Thomas, Robin’s dad, claps him on the back a few times. Robin ducks between them to cling to him and El, it’s a little awkward, but he clings right back.

It is when he is hugging Robin that he meets his father’s eyes from over her head. He is standing in an expensive black suit next to his mother in a stylish black dress. They look every part the rich socialites, who have come to show support for the town’s tragedy.

In that moment, Steve hates them more than he ever has before. He hugs Robin even closer and glares at them, before letting go of Robin and asking Jonathan where to meet, since El doesn’t look like she is letting go and they still have to hear the will.

He doesn’t care about his parents. He isn’t going to let them get to him. Especially not today when there are more important people counting on him.

Steve goes by all the kids, who are clumped together, making sure to hug them all and tell them that they’re going to be okay. That they’re going to get through this. Mike tries to talk to El, who is still by Steve’s side, but she just shakes her head, before hiding in Steve’s jacket again. This causes Mike to glare at Steve, which he ignores. Emotions are already running high enough.

As he leaves, he is stopped by Max, who tugs on his sleeve and asks: “Steve?”

“Yeah, Max?” he says kindly, not wanting to trigger an upset reaction when she already looks like she can cry at any moment.

“Uhm, I- I know you didn’t have the best history with- with Billy,” she is stumbling over her words, but valiantly keeping in the tears. “But can you come. Tomorrow. To his funeral?”

“Of course,” he promises. He isn’t going to abandon her, not when she already lost a brother.

After that, he drives to the reading of the will with El, since she hasn’t left his side. He doesn’t know why she is clinging to him, when the two of them haven’t interacted much, but he isn’t going to abandon her when she obviously needs someone to lean on.

The group for the will is much smaller and Steve ends up sitting next to Joyce, with El squished between them. Steve gets a few odd looks, but he ignores it to support El.

Hopper didn’t have much, so most of the things that are in his will are sentimental things that he shared with people. Steve tries to ignore that Hopper must have made this will after their second run in with the Upside Down. How he must have foreseen that it wouldn’t be over and they might not all make it out next time.

That he was right about it.

The big thing he owns is the cabin, which has been paid off already. No one who knew about her is surprised when that goes to El. She is still a minor and Hopper has appointed Joyce as her guardian with her consent, which makes Steve glance at her.

Joyce looks back and he can see in her eyes that she remembers the conversation when Hopper asked her to look after El should something happen clearly now. He reaches over and squeezes her shoulder. No one should go through such a thing, but especially not Joyce.

When it’s all done, Steve asks her: “Have you talked to El about what will happen now?”

Both of them look to El, who is currently with Jonathan after she felt good enough to leave Joyce and Steve’s side for a bit. Then they look at each other and Steve sees some awkwardness in Joyce’s eyes that has him on edge.

“I am planning to move to California,” she tells him softly. “She and Will have been through too much here. I don’t want El to start school here and have everyone know and ask her questions. I haven’t started looking for places, since I wanted to ask if you wanted to come too. I know it’s all suddenly and I don’t expect an answer, but I’ve taken you in and I’m not planning on abandoning you, okay, honey?”

It takes a second for all her words to register.

First, all that plays through Steve’s mind is that the Byers are leaving Hawkins. They’re moving away, which is the only competent adult they have left and the girl with the power and knowledge, though the power has disappeared. Jonathan, who can fight. And Will, well, Will makes the most sense, but Steve knows how the party will miss him. How he holds them together.

If they all go, the party practically halves in numbers and Steve is the only one who is a proper adult. Nancy and Robin are there as well and while Robin is new to this, she can be counted on and Nancy is a powerhouse in her own right, but still. Steve will be the one most of the party turns to when shit hits the fan again.

At this point, Steve is still in the stage where the Upside Down coming back seems like an inevitability, though hopefully that will leave – it might be better to keep the mentality, seeing how it has come back again already, but still.

Then it hits Steve that Joyce is offering him to come with her. That she is giving him a way out of this hellhole to California. California where people are more accepting, where he isn’t tied to the Harrington name and his old reputation as well as new rumors. He can just accept her offer and be free of that.

But-

But he can’t.

Chrissy is still here, unable to leave her mom. They’re friends. They bonded over having horrible parents and how much it sucks to be alone in that. She broke into his house with him. He promised her they could always stunt together. That he would always make her fly.

And what about Robin, his favorite lesbian. The only other queer person, he has met besides Will, and that is still a maybe, and Eddie. But Robin. Robin is his queer friend. She knows him. They give each other hope and safety. He can’t just leave her.

Plus, they got tortured together. They were drugged together. They came out to each other. She has never had to deal with the aftermath of the Upside Down before. She obviously isn’t dealing perfectly and neither is he. And the thought of being away from her pains him.

Then there are the kids. They’re already going to loose two friends, who are moving to Cali and they have lost Hopper, who was as much their safety net as Steve is. He can’t hang them out to dry like it’s nothing. And Billy’s loss has hit Max harder than he thought. He can’t abandon her now, not after that.

His mind also jumps to Eddie, who is here in Hawkins. Eddie, who knows him, who has been kind in the moments he needed it. Eddie, who he likes. Eddie, who he wants to have a chance with. The boy he wanted to kiss when he was being tortured, the boy he still wants to kiss.

Steve shoves that last thought away, the other reasons are more important. Plus, him going would be an extra financial burden Joyce doesn’t need.

He is already shaking his head no, before he even thinks about it more. His voice is a little pained, because he would have loved to say yes, as he says: “I- I can’t. I can’t come with you. Thank you, but- I mean, the kids-”

As he stumbles over the words El pops up between them. It is obvious she has been eavesdropping, because she says: “He can have the cabin.”

Both Joyce and Steve look at her and Joyce immediately tells her that she is very sweet for offering, but she should think about such things and Steve is agreeing with Joyce, telling El that is not necessary at all.

“No,” El says, as stubborn as ever. “Hopper was going to take you in if you had no place to go. He wanted you to have a place. You cannot come with us, so you need a place to stay. He would want you to have a place to stay.”

For the hundredth time today, Steve has to repress the urge to cry, because he knows that he cares about Hopper and he kind of thought the other man cared about him, but the fact that he was willing to take him in confirms it.

He takes her cheeks between his hands and presses a kiss on her forehead, before hugging her close and swaying her from side to side. Squished into his chest, he hears her whisper: “We could have been siblings.”

And Steve remembers her running away to find the other numbers, to find a sibling. A connection out there. Remembers how she came back and decided Hopper was her connection. His heart swells with affection and aches at the same time about how she wanted him to feel included in that.

Still, he can recognize that she is in an emotional state, so he just says: “Thank you, El. You’re really sweet. Let’s talk about this later.”

She nods in his chest, mollified with his reaction. She allows Joyce to take her home, while Steve climbs into his own car and cries like he has wanted to all day. He cries until his tears have run dry, then drives to the Buckley house.

He doesn’t say anything all evening and none of them seem to expect him to, which he is grateful for. He sleeps in Robin’s bed again, holding her close against his chest and knows he made the right choice in saying no.

On Wednesday 10th of July, they bury Billy Hargrove. Steve hates the man, but seeing him die has been horrible and he can respect who he gave his life for and acknowledge who he hurt by dying.

So, he puts his black suit on again like an armor and holds Max throughout the ceremony, watching the distance between her mom and step-dad. An ominous feeling about it hanging in the air. Sees how neither of them look back to Max or check if she’s okay.

After the funeral, he takes her to get a milkshake. Neither of them speak as they drink it in their mourning clothes, everyone giving them a wide berth.

It is a week of many funerals, it seems like everyone has lost someone.

When he brings her home, neither parent had noticed her missing, but she seems happier than when he met her at the graveyard. They’ll just have to be there for her, Steve thinks, making a note to keep an eye on her for a few months.

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okkotsvs · 2 years

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anonymous requested: maybe yuuta x flirty!reader? where does she like to flirt and see him blush because he's just too cute? also sorry if my english is bad, not my native language~

⤏ contents: okkotsu yuuta x gn!reader; 702 words; fluff; blushy yuuta <3

⤏ notes: sorry this is kind of short but i love referring to best boy as this ;-;

Sometimes you can’t help yourself.

Yuuta’s so easy to tease and it always seems like a missed opportunity if you don’t take that chance. It’s never to the point of making him upset or mad at you, no of course not, but it would dangle on the edge of making him flustered. Though, here’s the thing, you never did this on purpose.

“Morning, pretty boy,” you muse. It’s nearing noon on your guys’ day off from all and any missions or schoolwork. You both barely had time to be with each other throughout the last few months, only managing to catch small glimpses extremely late hours into the night.

He hums and you know he’s just starting to wake up, Flipping onto his back, he takes you with him, you ending up perched on his chest as his eyes slowly open. You lift a hand to brush away the stray hairs from his face before he actually wakes up; that’s when he realizes what you had said.

“What?” His cheeks start to warm up and you smile.

“I said,” you lean up and press a kiss to his chin, “morning, pretty boy.”

Yuuta stares at you, not able to form any words as it’s too early in the morning and you really did that to him. Again, It’s not the first time you did this and it definitely won’t be the last.

“Y/n,” he calls your name in a low tone.

“Yes, pretty boy?”

“Oh my god.” Your laugh sounds like music to his ears, something he could enjoy if it weren’t for the current situation. He never expected to be the brunt of all your flirting because he didn’t think it would be like this. Of course, you were dating him so all such romantic interactions were reserved for him and him alone but, could his poor heart take it?

Yuuta has this thought process a lot though it never lasts long when you distract with yet more of your fleeting touches and comments that simultaneously say that you are aware and not aware of the effect it has on him.

The rest of the morning goes without a hitch, working around each other to get ready while still wanting to spend as much time in the room as possible. There isn’t much to do today so your plans were simply to go out and eat at a nearby cafe and come back to the dorms and have an “at-home date.” As you get ready, he finishes before you do and you wave him off to go talk to everyone else he’s missed out time with in the common room.

“Don’t take too long!” He calls behind him, walking down the hall away from the dorm rooms. He catches Inumaki on the way, the latter grabbing his attention with something on his phone as they snicker at the contents. They both end up walking and waiting around at the front to casually talk about anything and everything from what they’re doing that day and the like.

It’s ten minutes later when you come in yourself, Yuuta’s back is to you so he couldn’t see your face, though the sounds of your footsteps were indication enough thanks to his fine tuned ears. He was going to turn around, but you were just a tad bit faster than him.

Your hand rests on his shoulder, inching closer to his neck that Yuuta feels the back of it rise with heat. He isn’t sure what you’re trying to do but his reactions and stuttering had already garnered his friend’s attention of concern.

You grin, flipping down the collar of his shirt before pulling away. “You look handsome, Yuu.” You say oh-so-casually. Toge eyes the both of you, cringing at your display and promptly calls an ingredient to leave you both to it.

He’s still a little nervous and you poke his cheek, cupping his face soon after to turn it to you. “Are you okay?“ He opens his mouth repeatedly to try to find an answer and ultimately gives up. Grabbing you by the waist, he brings you to his chest as he buries himself into your shoulder.

“You’re something else, y/n.”

#writing *:･ﾟ✧#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen headcannons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta #okkotsu x reader #okkotsu #yuuta x reader #yuuta #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

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pattysplaceofplaces · 9 months

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RoleSwap Shenanigans

ACME Agent Carmen SanDiego x Reader:

[Author’s Note: I had this on my mind for a couple of days, not the best quality but writing is writing. This follows the end of Season 1/Beginning of Season 2. Y/n takes Devinaeux’s place]

Agent Sandiego sped walked through the hospital hallways, trying to keep herself calm.

“Excuse me.”

“Sorry.”

“Make way.”

When she found the room number she opened the door. You sat in the hospital bed, looking out the window but now turning your head towards Carmen. “Carmen?” You remember her and a weight is lifted off of her chest.

With a few quick strides she’s by your hospital bed, her hands on your cheeks. “How are you feeling? Are you hurt?” You can’t help but feel guilty that your mistakes caused so much trouble. You lost your ACME keycard and you didn’t check the toothpaste that was placed into your bathroom. You felt like a terrible agent.

Worst of all, you made Carmen worry about you.

“I’m fine.” You murmur taking one of Carmen’s hands from your cheeks and intertwining it with your own hand. “I just feel so…Stupid for compromising ACME like this.” The scarlet agent shakes her head, lightly squeezing your hand. “I don’t care about ACME right now, I care about you.” You’re surprised to hear this. Agent Carmen Sandiego is Chief’s right hand gal, everyone knows for a fact that she’ll be the one running ACME when Chief retires.

“Please…Just tell me what happened. Chiefly told me but I want to hear it from your own mouth.” Carmen begs.

Your mind is a haze but you remember things, some are more coherent than others. “There were two people. They put…Something on my head and it made me tell them everything I knew about ACME.” Tears well in your eyes and you lean your head on Carmen’s shoulder, losing yourself in the red of her coat. “I wasn’t strong enough.” Carmen couldn’t blame you for getting emotional. What happened to you sounded terrifying. You could have died.

Carmen blames herself for this. She was a great agent but a terrible lover. According to Chief, you had also seen the Jule Thief. Your girlfriend’s grip tightens on you, not enough to hurt you but enough for you to notice.

That thief is going to pay.

Super Thief Julia Argent x Reader:

Julia looked out the private plane’s window pensively, watching as the clouds flew by. “What’s wrong, Jules? Aren’t you happy we got the hard drive?” Player asks, interrupting the thief from her thoughts.

“I am but…” A small frown appears on her face. “I wish I could have done something to prevent this from happening in the first place.” Player had known Jules since her VILE schooling. She was a great thief with an even greater moral compass, but she had a soft heart. Especially for ACME agent Y/n. Agent Y/n was the person apart of ACME that understood there was more to her than she meets the eye.

“ACME will take care of them.” Player tries to reassure her. “You should be worried about you right now. Coach Brunt broke two of your ribs and you were saved by ShadowSan. Inside and out this has to be wearing you down.” Julia shrugs but Player knows he’s right. “Are you sure you want to do this caper? Maybe you aren’t ready.”

Julia shakes her head, putting on her brave face. She doesn’t look very menacing but she’s still a force to be reckoned with. “I’ll be fine, Player. A lot is at stake here.”

The plane is on its to Rio de Janeiro. Thanks to the hard drive supplied by ShadowSan, she could continue her capers. Hopefully she’ll be one step closer to taking down VILE.

Hopefully in the future she could explain everything to you, that she could apologize to you directly for getting you caught up in this mess. But for now, Julia has to be seen as the villain.

#carmen sandiego x reader #julia argent x reader #Carmen Sandiego 2019

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beezonia · 26 days

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A past better left forgotten

A little miraculous mons drabble

No warnings but mentions of death.

Nathalie wakes up with a pounding in her head most days. She doesn’t know why.

Ori always ends up perched on one of the bedposts, checking on her heavy breathing to make sure her trainer isn’t dying.

Maybe it’s just that she’s sick, or that she’s slowly going insane after years and years of running from her problems.

Nathalie still doesn’t know, logic isn’t helping her after all these years of using it.

It’s sort of painful.

At least she could get comfortable being back in the spotlight soon, get back to how life used to be.

Although, after everything that’s happened.

Nathalie doesn’t believe things can go back to the way they were.

———-

Jade sits there on her yoga mat, the Persian looks like she’s snoozing. The blue gem on her forehead glinting in the early rays of light.

Well that was one distraction she couldn’t use. It was time to think of something different.

Ori chirps as if she’s trying to point her in the right direction, her beak stretching out to the small garden Nathalie has managed to take care of.

It’s where she’s more likely to find the steel duo, Darack (her skarmory) and Tiny (her Aggron and yes, the irony was not lost on her)

So the champion lets her feet drag along the tiles of the patio, smiling when she sees Darcak perk his head up at the noise.

The bird instantly lunges himself towards her and Ori, the woman has to sidestep to make sure she doesn’t get the brunt of the collision.

She’s sure the Skarmory has scared the absolute shit out of Ori, so much so the smaller bird ended up in the trees!

“Hey you, what were you looking at?”

Nathalie crouches so she can pet Darack’s head, he chirps turning his beak upwards as of to say he was admiring the sky.

It was a pretty sky, the pinks and oranges slowly merging into blue to make way for the day.

“I’ll have to send Vincent a picture, Arty would love it.”

She’s talking about her best friend and his smeargle, the pokèmon always loved staring up at the sky.

To bad Nathalie didn’t have anyone to share it with, apart from her pokèmon her role meant most people were just going to use her for fame.

It’s sad, but true. It reminds her of a past she’d rather forget.

A past that seems to want to haunt her too.

Hades had only become part of her team about a year ago. The Dusknoir had appeared on her doorstep one from afternoon and it wouldn’t leave till she let him in.

Persistent much like someone else she knew.

God how Nathalie hates reminding herself of the blonde, nothing good ever came from it. Even if that smile still made her swoon, even if she felt her heartbeat gain pace just staring into those emerald eyes.

No, the Kalos Champion would not falter. She would not let herself fall back into those old habits.

She was about to show the region just what she was made of.

Even if it was just all a facade to get through the long days she had ahead of her.

Even if she found it hard to progress each day. Nathalie would keep moving forward.

Hope you like this guys!

Wanted to explore a bit of Nathalie’s bonds with her pokèmon and more so what she thinks in her head most of the time!

Thanks for reading!

#miraculous mons au #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #miraculous ladybug au #nathalie sancoeur

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sequinsmile-x · 2 years

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Right Here

Just a little, pointless, drabble for my bestie @ssa-sparks and anyone else who might need it <3

I love you all very much

Warnings: none

Words: 700

Read below the cut

It had been a bad case, not that there were ever any good ones. Child cases always felt different, more insidious. They had always crawled under her skin, but they found a way to go deeper these days. Ever since Jack had become more than her boss's son, ever since she and Aaron had two sons of their own, she found the cases harder to take.

She knew her husband was the same. That he replaced the victim's faces with the faces of their own children.

They hadn’t saved the last victim, only arriving moments too late. Aaron had taken the brunt of the mother’s rage, her grief, and Emily watched as her husband took on every word. How guilt and blame washed over him.

As soon as they’d got home she’d made sure the kids were in bed, settled them down and hugged them tighter than usual. Once she knew they were ok, she sought out Aaron, knowing he needed her just as much as their children did.

Tonight, he probably needed her even more.

She finds him in the living room, sitting in the armchair, his body tense as he stares straight ahead.

“Are you ok?” She asks, knowing it was a pointless question, but it gets his attention, and he looks over at her.

“No.”

Honesty was one of the cornerstones of their relationship, the very thing they had built their relationship on. She loved it, relished it.

“Do you want to be alone?”

“No,” he repeats, firmer this time. Emily nods in response and crosses the room, settling into his lap with ease. He wraps his arms around her, holding her close as if she was the only thing that kept him grounded.

“Can I help?” She asks, pushing some of his hair off his forehead. Aaron smiles at her. It’s a sad thing, a tiny twitch at one corner of his lips, and it makes her ache. It makes her want to find anyone, and anything, that had ever hurt him and tear them to pieces.

“You already are,” Aaron replies, his grasp on her tightening. She happily curls up further into his lap and rests her head on his shoulder. He turns his head just enough to press a kiss against her temple. “I’m sorry, Em.”

She reaches for his hand, linking their fingers together. “For what?”

“For…this. Everything,” he replies, sounding weary, “I bet you wish you’d ended up with someone less complicated.”

She chuckles, thinking he’s joking, “Yeah, because I come completely baggage free,” she quips, and he’s silent, his only response a brief tightening of his grasp on her. Emily realises he’s being serious and pulls away to look at him, her eyebrows knitted together as she frowns, “Honey, you can’t be serious.”

Aaron sighs, “It’s true, Em. There’s so much history, and it never quite goes away.”

Emily cups his cheek, forcing him to look at her again from where his gaze had drifted to the floor.

“If there’s anyone who knows about a complicated past it’s me,” she says gently, stroking his skin with her thumb, “Does it make you love me any less?”

“Of course not,” he replies indignantly, almost as if he was angry she’d imply such a thing, and she smiles softly at him.

“Then why would it make me love you any less?” She asks, and he sighs again, closing his eyes as if he was trying to gather himself. “One of the things I love most about our relationship is that we understand each other,” she explains, her thumb still idly stroking at his skin, “We’ve both experienced things most people wouldn’t come up with in their worst nightmares and we made it through.”

“And now we’re here.”

She smiles at him, leaning forward to kiss him quickly. “Exactly, now we’re here,” she kisses him again, “I love you very much.”

“I love you too.”

She knows she would never bore of hearing him say that to her. It still made her stomach flip, even after all this time.

“Do you want to go to bed?” She asks, and his response is a shake of his head.

“No, not yet.”

“Ok,” she replies, settling down so her head was on his shoulder, “We’ll stay right here.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fan fic

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blackacre13 · 2 years

Note

I have this idea for a story set right after Debbie comes back from prison: Debbie wants to have very rough, degrading sex all the time and at first Lou is obviously into it but then she begins to notice that every time she tries to be more gentle and loving Debbie kind of pushes her back, until Lou figures out that Debbie feels like she deserves all the degradation and isn't worthy of Lou's tenderness anymore, so she talks to her about it and comforts her

“Hey,” Lou murmured, playing with the scarf around Debbie’s wrists as she hummed. “Let’s get these off you, honey.”

“But I—“

“Oh, I’m far from done,” the blonde smirked, kissing her gently. “Just want to switch things up a bit, love. Slow things down. Nice and gentle. Let me make—“

“Keep them on,” Debbie decided, looking away from her parter for a moment, focusing on the wall across from them. “Fuck me, baby. Punish me, Lou.”

“Seriously?” Lou laughed, rolling away for a moment as she studied the brunette’s face, biting her lip. Maybe it wasn’t the right moment. Maybe it never would be. But she had to say something. “Debs, are you…”

“I’m fine,” Debbie snapped, huffing as she grabbed for the blonde’s abandoned t-shirt, shoving it down over her head, her hands still bound together. “Let’s just get some sleep,” she spoke through gritted teeth, holding her hands out for Lou to untangle.

“Debs,” Lou tried again, delicately unraveling the silk material as she tried to keep herself collected and not snap back, knowing there was a deeper reason Debbie was acting out that she doubted had to do with her. “Debs, lately, we’ve been having a lot of…well, rough sex.”

“Don’t we always?” Debbie laughed, her voice sounding hollow as she attempted her piss poor shot at deflecting.

“You know what I mean,” the blonde sighed. “Yeah, we’ve always liked to, of course. That hasn’t changed. And I know it’s a turn on for us both. The power dynamics. The dirty talk. The degrading. Sure. It was our bread and butter for most of our late twenties. But—“

“Leave it alone, Lou,” Debbie whispered coldly, snatching her wrists away as she crawled towards the pillows, the blonde stopping her as she reached for her shoulder gently.

“I can’t, Debs,” Lou shook her head. “I’ve left it alone too many times, honey. I—I need to know that you’re okay. That you’re not punishing yourself.”

“Punishing myself? Debbie snorted. “That’s ridiculous, I’ve never—“

“You did your time,” Lou breathed. “And I won’t even get started on how it’s time served for something you sure as hell didn’t do, or at least shouldn’t have had to take the entire brunt of. But at the end of the day, it’s done. Debs, it’s over.”

“Over?” The brunette laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “I served time for a crime. Not for everything else I fucked up. The lies I told. The things I did. The hearts I broke,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to sniff them back, failing miserably.

“If this is about me, honey. I promise you—“

“Of course it’s about you,” Debbie laughed, the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Don’t you get it? I fucked this up. I fucked us up. I fell for the wrong person. Tore my life apart and I took you down right with me. And I broke your Fucking heart. Again and again and again. And you just took me back, no questions asked. And you want to be gentle with me? Make love to me? Love me unconditionally? Lou, you can’t just—you can’t—“

“Debbie, Debbie, love,” Lou gasped, pulling her in as the brunette sobbed against her, Lou folding her against her chest as she let her cry, stroking her fingers through her hair and rocking her slowly. “You are so so loved, honey. And I’m not going to apologize for loving you and being in love with you and for wanting to do those things. And yes,” Lou laughed, her own tears starting to fall. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you begging me for release or blindfolding you or telling you dirty, rotten things knowing how Fucking wet it gets you. But sometimes, I want to celebrate that gorgeous body of yours. Take my time with it. Really feel you next to me. Show you what you mean to me. Make you tingle from head to toe. And I—“

“I’m a bad person,” Debbie hissed, sniffing against Lou’s chest. “I do bad things. I’m a criminal. A thief. A liar.”

“Perhaps you haven’t remembered how we met,” Lou teased her, tickling her ribs as Debbie tried and failed not to laugh before returning to her grave face. “I’m no saint, Debs.”

“Yes, you are,” Debbie shook her head. “And I’ve put you through hell.”

“Nonsense.”

“I have,” Debbie cried. “Time and again. And I just—I want you to punish me. Make me work for it. Be rough with me.”

“I won’t,” Lou whispered, using her thumb to brush a tear off Debbie’s cheek before kissing the same spot. “I can’t. I love you too much to punish you. I love you too much for any of it. You’re my partner. And you can’t keep beating yourself up for the past. And I won’t be the one to do it. You have to give yourself a break. You have to forgive.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Debbie laughed.

“Yourself, Debs. You have to forgive yourself.”

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lyaenidae · 10 months

Text

Miki's two years on her own (pt2)

She'd made her way to the Temple, in the middle of the night...

At first, she considered sleeping outside it and going in when the sun had risen. But then she felt like, maybe, just a little look couldn't hurt, after all. This is the place she was so eager to discover. The jungle was a great adventure, but she couldn't help but think the real goal was understanding this place.

As soon as she got inside, she was in awe of the beauty of the place. It was mystical, it felt so magic. She tried to understand the way the Temple worked, tried to open doors, not worried about how much time was passing by while she was inside.

The tricks and pitfalls seemed to be getting worse as she was moving deeper and deeper in the long dark hallways. Yet, whatever she was faced with, she was keeping a level head and making sure she would get to the other side unharmed.

She went so deep, she even reached a treasure. She didn't know how long it'd been since she had entered the Temple, wasn't even sure if she would find her way out...

The walls were glittering in the dead of the night, everything felt so mystical. She purely felt like she just had to take a look at what was inside the treasure chest. Pushing the lid away, she felt a surge of fear and amazement. There were things in there she would have never thought even existed ! She only took one, wanting to study it, planning to bring it back after having seen it in the light of the day.

On the way out of the Temple and later, out of the jungle, back to the bustling town, she felt like her luck had turned a bit... Even though she was prepared and knew how to deal with most dangers by now, she felt like everything was working against her this time around... She got brunt, poisoned, the wilderness didn't seem to want her to go back to civilisation anymore. And when she finally got to the market place, it seemed rather empty compared to what she was used to. The only people there seemed a bit absent. Or maybe it was her, seeing the world differently now that she had discovered such wonders. She found a crystal on the market that was calling to her. She seemed to instinctively know what she needed to do.

A little voice inside her head was telling her that now that she had assembled a relic, she needed to use it. But use it how ? On who ? And what would it do ? She entered the bar and words she didn't know the meaning to passed her lips, as the relic was starting to glow, and raise out of her hands. In a desperate attempt to regain control over her body, Miki closed her eyes and grinded her teeth, stopping the words from being spoken. She'd never know if she had stopped early enough or not, but she was ready to go and put it back straight away. She'd never intended to keep it, but now she knew it was too risky to even give it to a museum to observe. So the next day, she set off for the Temple again. Hoping she'd find it again... And after weeks of looking, she did.

It was a rainy day, she couldn't tell for sure if this was the same Temple she'd been in the first time, but she couldn't believe she'd stumble onto two different temples, so she went through all the doors, determined to put the relic back.

Halfway down, she was sure that she wasn't in the same place anymore... Yet, she couldn't turn back, she was desperate to give back to the gods of the Jungle what she had taken with her. She bypassed new tricks she had never seen before, tried her best to avoid the dangers...

Until she found herself at a dead end... She felt defeated, it was late, and she needed to sleep. She went back up a few levels before setting up a tent and spending the night in the temple. The next morning, she tried again, thinking she might have a clearer head this time around... And yet she found herself stuck in the same exact place again. Nowhere to go, she started speaking out loud, trying to work out where she'd gone wrong. And to her surprise, a huge head statue started moving to answer her questions !

"No, there's no other way, nothing further young lady." "Uh?" Miki couldn't believe her own eyes. Was she hallucinating ? Was she completely out of her mind ? "What did you think was going to happen ? You thought you could just take what wasn't yours and get away with it, didn't you ?" the statue said. "No, no ! I always meant to bring it back, I swear." she explained, still feeling dazed from seeing the statue moving. "Mmmmh... I doubt that very much, but if you really mean it, then you shouldn't have come here." "Where should I go then ?" she asked, eager to get away from this weird talking rock. She got very specific instructions from it though, and left that Temple with an idea of how to get to the 'right' Temple, as it had said... Days later, she was finding herself in front of another building, similar to the ones she had seen before.

She had to swim in a swamp to get to the first locked door in this temple, so she right away understood she was in a different Temple. But she had had instructions to come here, she was sure of herself, this would be the end of her troubles.

She did feel a bit uneasy seeing how many skeleton guardians there were in this Temple. She still managed to get very far, all the skeletons still present in pretty much every chamber, until the very last one.

She was about to unlock the last door when she heard a noise behind her. And there was a live skeleton right there, in front of her.

Once the shock had passed, Miki found out that the skeleton was actually very nice. It explained to her where she could leave the relic, once arrived in the last room in the Temple, and that the gods of the jungle would understand and leave her alone if she did.

She did everything she was told and got out of Selvadorada soon after that, promising herself that if she returned, she wouldn't misstep again. And that she would pray to the Omnisacn gods from now on, as she had clearly felt their power.

#takaofamily #sims4 #sims4gameplay #vanillagameplay #vanilla #gen2 #ts4 #kentatakao #Selvadorada #MikiAkiyama

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kimboatfloats · 1 year

Text

I have lingering trauma from abusive workplaces. It’s hard to accept that a job has negatively affected me long after I quit. I hoped it would end when I put in my notice, but instead it has coloured every future perception of work and places of work.

Because of that job I am:

Scared that people are lying when they say they like me.

In the abusive job, I was told I was loved by the customers and assumed I got along with everyone. Then was brought into the office of a manager on a Friday and told I was the worst employee they had ever had, I was on probation, and everyone hated me. It blindsided me so badly I was horrified and confused. I mean, I started and ran potlucks. People talked about how everyone felt more kinship with one another. I joked around with the sales staff and the back room guys. I got along so well with clients they asked for me by name. I felt like I was running the front end all by myself (my coworker was lazy as hell). And then wham. Just told I was the absolute worst person ever and that they hated me. As a result, I am scared to make friends with coworkers and to get involved in social committees. I don’t want the same thing to happen again.

Scared that my work is subpar although people say it’s good.

When I started at the abusive job, there wasn’t a training manual. I basically was thrown into the deep end. As a result, I started documenting all the things I needed to know. It was for my benefit. They told me that my documentation was shit and I shouldn’t waste work time to do it. When I quit, I deleted the file. I mean, why wouldn’t I if they told me that it was shit. Because I deleted it, they said I was defacing company assets and property and used that as a reason to turn my quit into a firing. Because suddenly they wanted my training manual??? I was lucky that the woman in HR had my back and she changed my ROE back to “quit” instead of it being fired. I now second guess everything I work on because I’m worried it’s not good enough or will be later used to fire me.

Scared that I have illegitimate reasons to be upset about coworkers and their treatment of me.

So in that job, there were times that people treated me like ass. It took so much energy each day to get there, be perky, be quick and efficient and to interact with customers and coworkers. The first year it was fun. The second year (they also scammed me out of 2 weeks vacation that first year so I was exhausted because I had zero time off) people began to yell at me and treat me like absolute shit. The whole business was stressed out over dropping margins and sales. My boss was pregnant and they wanted me to cover her maternity, which I was very eager to help them out, but I would not get paid what she got paid (I know now this is scammy because they should have hired someone to cover her position, not just to make me work more). I felt really awful most of the time and worked so hard to hide it. I started antidepressants since I only had the ability to be sad at home and my home life suffered. My partner wanted me to quit long before, but I thought that it was all a me problem and if I only just worked harder to make people happy then everything would work out. I was hurt by a lot of what people said to me, how I was treated, and I just sucked it up and didn’t get mad or bring it to management. I just cried a lot on my breaks and felt depressed every day. The thing is, I should have been able to say “So and so is not working and I am covering their job” or “This sales person is forwarding all their work to me and getting the benefit of it while I do all the work” or “I am taking the brunt of the calls because the clients ask for me directly since I will check with the back to make sure the work is done.” But I couldn’t complain to anyone.

Scared to take sick days.

If I called in sick (I think I did it only a handful of times while I worked there), I didn’t get paid. I also would get called to ask me where things were. I would then have to get a doctor’s note, which cost money, and required me sitting in a clinic for 4 hours and pay a hundred bucks out of pocket. I would then have to explain my absence the next day I worked to everyone. I’d have to fix mistakes that happened because I wasn’t there. I would have to deal with my passive-aggressive coworkers who were mad that they had to cover my job (one being the person who was supposed to be doing the same job as me). And I’d get yelled at by customers because they had errors in their order while I was away. So I would be sick, exhausted, and still have to be putting out fires. So now when I’m sick, I’m so wound up that people will think I’m lying that I go in earlier than I probably should.

I can’t believe I should get paid what I’m worth.

I got paid $15 an hour to be abused. I was told I could never get a raise because I wasn’t good enough. I took all the training I could. I sold expensive machines that should have net me bonuses, but I wasn’t sales so it didn’t get anything. No matter what I was denied raises because I didn’t have what it took to get them. I’m now getting almost twice that and I feel like a crook about it. Like I am not worthy of my pay. That I will never be worthy of it. I also get an annual raise and I just… can’t believe it. I get reviews from my boss that says I’m exemplary and I’m like… he’s lying.

Because of that job , I am always afraid the shoe will drop and I will get fired for just absolutely anything. I’m scared to take sick days. I’m worried people hate me. I fear doing anything unrelated to my job (like checking websites) for fear that I will be written up.

And it’s a learning process to unlearn the trauma from it. I worked there 10 years ago, but I still feel that anxiety as if were right now. I’ve bought dialectical behaviour therapy cards that remind me that the anxiety I feel is not related to my actuality. I pull 3 a day to read whenever I start feeling the creep of fear.

I enjoy my job now. But I’m so fucking paranoid that it’s detrimental. And it’s because of that previous job. So I am always working to remind myself that I am valuable and liked and that I am good at my job. I really am. I like what I do. I find my work fun. I excel at it. And I like my coworkers.

But fuck that old job. Seriously. Fuck it.

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punskill · 3 years

Text

thinking about how buffy’s tendency to be WAY over forgiving stems from the fact that she is . Very worried about people leaving her

#GOOOOD #I was going to sleep then this popped into my brain #I’ll write something more thought out some other time but #listen in s4 during the Halloween ep Buffy’s obviously still really disheartened about what happened with Parker #and during her talk with Joyce she offhandedly remarks about how everyone leaves her #her father left and it’s obvious she carries a lot of guilt about that #thinking she was the main problem it Couldnt work out because of her #very Special extracurriculars #so yeah she takes a lot of bullshit her friends throw at her #because deep inside she DOES think she’s the problem and if she just agrees #and goes along then it’ll be fine and they’ll stay #obviously being a slayer only makes That worse because she’s constantly distant from everhone #*everyone #so she’s so focused on making sure these bonds last #AH I just keep thinking about her and her dad #she’s always saying she can never make anyone stay #so she ends up just taking the brunt of everything to make sure things turn out alright in the end #because as long as her friends stay with her she’s fine #INTROSPECTION. ⠀⠀ [ . . . ] ⠀⠀ i’m cookie dough.

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Sebastian convincing you to have another baby...

Pairing | Sebastian Stan x reader

Summary | Seb wants another baby, but he still has to convince you into wanting the same thing.

Warnings | smut, breeding kink, fluff, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of birth control, creampie, swearing, cockwarming

Requested ✖️

Y/e/d/n = Your eldest daughter’s name

Y/d/n = your daughters name

Y/s/n = your son’s name

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

The idea of pregnancy gave you many things to think about, the gruelling and simultaneously tiresome journey had been one hell of a rollercoaster. The countless times (approximately two) that you had endured the swelling of your feet, and the divine hunger for the strangest combinations of food, had left you with three beautiful children.

First you had birthed a little girl, that sparked a new light behind your husband’s eyes, and reinvented his world. She was the princess he adored, and the one that you loved to watch Disney movies with, even if she insisted on Frozen every singular time.

And then, after her, you had a pair of perfect twins. They brought sound and restlessness to the household, after your daughter demanding that she wanted a sibling. Deep down, you had wanted more at the time too, but now, you felt as though your life goal was fulfilled.

Your family was everything that you had ever wanted, it felt as though you had been taken off an idealistic screen and transferred into reality. And if that had happened, you wouldn’t be one to complain, for all your greatest wishes had come true.

But if you were to ask your husband, he would make it very clear that he wanted more little devils running around the house. There was a joke that Evans and Mackie had with you every time that they saw you on set, clothed in a tight catsuit to fit your role. They would act amazed at the appearance of you not bearing one of Sebastian’s gorgeous children, their false shock earning laughs from your various co stars.

It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t open to the idea of another child to grow within your womb, however, it was more out of fear. You were well aware that you had been blessed with the birth of your lovely twins, though you were scared that you would endure the premise of double labour again, and it wasn’t exactly the kind of pain that you were willing to experience for a second time.

Being practically split in half once was bad enough, but twice, one instance straight after the other was bound to be the worst torture that a mother could be provided with. As you stirred your evening cuppa, watching as your kids were all huddled playing a board game after their dinner, two arms found placement around your waist, lightly tugging you back into a strong chest.

“Look at our babies.” Your husband mumbled into the crown at the back of your head, his fingertips rolling circles beneath your shirt. “Aren’t they the sweetest?” He asked, pressing a delicate kiss upon the back of your neck. The feeling of his stubble making your body shake wantonly, but you withheld from making sounds, not wanting to draw the attention of your children.

“When they’re quiet.” You agreed, watching as your eldest helped the twins with beating her. “They’re the most important people in my life, and then, it’s my annoying husband, who cannot stop trying to get in my pants for five minutes.”

“That’s called love; your husband loves you.” Sebastian stated, nibbling on your ear lobe as you ushered a sound of approval, clutching onto his hand that was firmly planted on your side, as his tongue traced the shell of your ear. “And I’m sure he’d love to show you how much, if you stop being mean to him.”

“Mean?” You laughed, taking a sip of your drink before spinning in his arms, allowing him to push you flush against the counter. “I can show him mean.” Biting your lip, you traced the seam of his sweats, that appeared to be all that he was currently wearing, brushing your hands up and against his well attended to torso. “But later.”

Seb groaned, leaning his head back, as he moved closer to you, pushing his thigh between your legs, glancing over your shoulder at the kids. “We could put them to bed right now, and then go to our room, then, you can show me how much of a horrible wife you are.”

“As much as I love that idea bubs, the twins need to be bathed, and you have to help your daughter with her math homework.” Leaning forwards, you pressed a kiss on his bicep, moving out from the entrapment of his arms, and lightly patting his ass.

“You know I was joking about you being mean, but now I’m seeing some truth behind my earlier words.” Sebastian plodded away, and towards the open living space, plopping down on the sofa, as he watched his offspring on the floor, smiling at their kindness to one another, though he was sure that tomorrow would be another story.

With one last look, you headed upstairs, going to the main bathroom, and began to slowly the run the tap. During the time you allowed it to run, you grabbed some pyjamas for your babies, as well as a couple of towels and flannels. By the time you had returned to the bathroom, and put everything down ready, the tub was half filled. And so you stopped the stream, putting in a tad of cold water before descending down the stairs.

“Honey, help y/e/d/n with her school work, I’m gonna get these two trouble makers ready for bed.” Your husband nodded as he pursed his lips, trying to ignore how you leant down to pick the twins up, pretending as through the top of your breast had not been caught by his eyes.

And with that, you got the kids cleaned and ready for the following day, meeting Seb at the doorway of y/d/n’s and y/s/n’s room, giving them each a kiss on the forehead before tucking them in for bed.

As you were walking towards your own room, Sebastian lifted you from behind, carrying you the rest of the way. “You can’t keep it in your pants, can you Mr Stan?” You laughed as he dropped you upon your double bed, him instantly kneeling at the end of it to peel your shirt off.

He trailed kisses along your legs, humming from the much desired contact, as his blue eyes flickered up at you. “That’s your fault, you deprive me.” He muttered against your skin, reaching his fingertips up higher to grasp at the sides of your underwear, pulling the material down.

Your husband blew hot air upon your pussy, grinning to himself as it instinctively clenched around nothing. As he moved closer, he breathed in your scent, rubbing the tip of his nose along your clit, before diving in to feast, sneaking his tongue through your slit, instantly prodding at your entrance, causing your head to wind back, and your hand grasp his hair.

“We should have another.” He mumbled against you, and you were almost too delirious to complain, although a light groan emitted from you, as you fought with yourself whether to let him continue eating you out and not respond, or do the responsible, adult thing, and speak about it.

With much resilience, you pulled his head away, licking your lips at his slick stained chin away, tugging him to be laid beside you. “Is that really want you want Seb?” You asked, biting your lip, wanting to hear his thoughts in hopes that it would relax you for the possibility of you bearing more of his children.

“Of course it is draga.” He answered, his icy pools making your own freeze, he cupped your chin, bringing your lips to his own, placing a few pecks upon your lips, before continuing. “I know that you’re nervous, but I will look after you every step of the way, like I have done both times before. Anyways, I feel like directors take a kick out of challenging themselves with making their actresses appear not pregnant, look at both you and Scar through the years.”

You nodded, understanding that your career wouldn’t take the brunt of things. “I want another but... I’m scared. Just, what if I have two again?” You rambled with your hands, and he clasped them between his own, pausing your panicked hand signals, and rubbing his nose against each set of your knuckles.

“The chances of that aren’t very high my love. But if it happens, then maybe this time you’ll let us call them Wanda and Pietro...” his words earned him a light eye roll and a tender hit on his shoulder, as he rolled on top of you, causing you to squeal. “Remember, don’t wake the kids.”

“Kinda hard when I can feel how hard you are.” You retorted, moaning as he began to suck at the spot on your neck that made your knees shake, his hands drifting beneath your shirt, as he began to raise the material up your torso, and over your breasts. You whipped the material over your head, discarding it as his attention turned to your boobs. “I’ll never get tired of these.”

He hummed, before leaning down, taking a rosey pebble to be captured within his mouth, sucking on it as his fingers fiddled with the other. “Seb, I just need you in me.” You prodded his hips with the heels of your feet, pleased when he leaned back, pulling down his sweats, so that his erection bobbed upwards, the head already leaking precum.

“You want a baby that bad?” He asked in a brisk voice, clambering back onto your awaiting body once again, grasping his base with his heavy hand, dragging his tip to circle around your clit. “Want me to fill you up, so that you grow nice and full with my baby.”

A furrow made its way onto your brow, as you held onto his biceps, lightly rolling your hips up against his leaking head. “Honey.” He paused his movements, staring carefully down at you, reading your expression. “I’m still on birth control.” You informed him, watching as his eyelashes fluttered, and he pressed down unto you again.

“A little practise never hurt gorgeous.” Sebastian spoke, slipping his cock into your entrance, sinking into you as you moaned out his name. “Fuck, so tight, even after three kids.” He groaned, putting his hands either side of your head, as he began to thrust in and out of your pussy, breathing heavily through his nose.

“So big.” Your hands grasped at his naked back, casting down to grasp his ass, causing him to suddenly buck deeper into you, emitting another series of moans out of you. “Love your cock.”

“Yeah?” The romanian smugly asked, his lips drifting up the tip of your nose, before running them back down to your own, biting onto your upper lip, as one hand continued to brace his weight above, and the other moved down to fondle with your clit, causing you to tighten around him, your eyelids blinking repeatedly. “You love my fat cock inside of you, about to pump you full of my cum?”

“Yes Seb, love it.” Your eyes screwed shut, tears slipping out the corner of your eyes, as he made his administrations harder, hitting his hips languidly against your own. “Love it so so so mu- ah - ch.”

“Cum angel. Coat my cock, pretty girl.” You complied, reaching your high, as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as your essence pooled around him. “Want me to make you round with my babe, want me to make you full of my cum?”

“I do, I do, I do.” You squealed, your breath hitching as he stilled for a minute, filling you with seed. “Fuck.” You breathed, your chest rising and falling, as he remained in your for a moment, before pulling out, but you stopped him, clasping his back with your sweaty hands. “Stay.”

“Okay.” Seb said tiredly, his skin flushed as he rolled over, so that you were laid on his chest, your head falling to below his chin. “So beautiful, you know that?”

“Mmh.” You hummed, drawing circles upon his skin. “I’ll come off my birth control tomorrow, then, we don’t have to just practice.” He leant down to press a long kiss upon your lips, sneaking his tongue through their natural seam, gently sucking on your own.

“That sounds more than good to me darling.” He stroked down your back with his talented fingers, pulling you closer again. You felt his dick twitch within you as he felt both of your mixed juices trailed down his balls, that huffed from the sensation.

#sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fic #seb stan smut #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x you #sebastian x y/n #sebastian x reader #sebastian x you #imagines #imagine #xreader #mcu cast smut #mcucastxreader #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan au

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mxtantrights · 3 years

Text

The magic-spy and the bird

the best friends brother trope is in my top 5 tropes. but I've also got a thing for angst. So here we areeeee. enjoy! <3

dick Grayson x f!reader

Jason Todd had asked you specifically to ask his brother out. And he did use the word brother, which you made a point to bring up. He shot it down but still decided to push his message towards you. You should ask Dick out. It wasn’t that simple.

“Jay I don’t think you’ve thought this through.” you said.

He chuckled, “Of course I did. I wouldn’t say it out loud if it wasn’t a well-cooked plan.”

You made a face at him.

“Okay look, all I'm saying is you’ve got nothing to lose. If anything you're way out of his league.” he said and then gulped down the rest of his beer.

You didn’t like beer and so you worked on a Pina colada. You had done the whole beer thing for years now. As a trained spy it was your go-to for missions at bars. Safe to say you were sick of ales, craft beers and everything in between.

“Ah yes, the magic using spy.” you nodded your head.

Jason nodded along with you.

“Exactly. Bird brains would eat that up.” he said.

“And when would I tell him that I knew about his secret identity? Before I tell him about mine or after?” you asked.

Jason sighed and raised his hand for another beer. You rolled your eyes at this. Once he had a thought it was very hard for him to let it go. Especially when it included a thought about people he cared for- no matter how much he claimed the opposite.

“All Im saying is, you never know until you try.”

“What are you a fortune cookie?”

“Fuck off. I’m being serious and I do give great advice you can ask Duke.”

2 DAYS LATER

You look at Caliban with bated breath. He had just gotten info on a magic-based rebellion. Work was tight when you rolled with the good guys for too long of a time. You blame that on two men on your life, Jason and Constantine.

“I’ll put in a good word for you.” he says.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. And any-”

Before you can finish telling Caliban that he can call in a favor from you at anytime your surroundings change. In a flash you go from one of the underworld crime bars to a room you’ve never been in before.

You look around and sure enough you see the culprit. Constantine.

“There she is!” he smiles.

Not only did he summon you, he did so in front of an audience. Circled around him is Gotham’s crime fighting family. All of them except Jason, Cass and Duke. All of which know about your secret identity and would’ve stopped Constantine from summoning you. The rest of the family are all looking at you liked you’ve grown a second head.

You look down at what you’re wearing. The long sleeve off the shoulder skin tight black dress was the perfect choice for the club you were supposed to be in. Maybe not so much for a meeting with the Bats and his birds.

You look right ahead at Constantine, “I don’t like being summoned.”

“Ah, but you’re the best person I know for this job. I had to get you over here.” he says.

You take a quick look at all the other people in the room. Then at the screen behind them. Your information is plastered on it. Well, the information that you’ve decided to let the government think was yours. Your codename was at the top of the screen.

“Constantine says that you’re the best way into the underworld.” Batman says.

You’re confused to say the least. Constantine was Constantine, why would he call you in order to get them into the underworld when he can do it himself? It defeats the purpose of having to call him.

“I’m sorry,” you direct to Batman and then look at your friend, “I need you to state specifically what I’m needed for.”

Constantine moved from the family over to you. As he did you watched as Nightwing followed him with his own eyes. Now Dick knows you’re not just Jason’s friend from around Gotham. Great.

“Bats got intel that something it going down with this magic group, the-” he starts. “hex mutiny.” you finish.

“You already know about them?” Nightwing says.

“I was just getting someone to put in a good word for me with them before you summoned me here. You’ve got great timing you know that?” you say to Constantine.

He smiles, “Well then it seems like you can be of great service, spygames.”

“And what exactly would I be doing, if I can even get a spot with them?” you throw out the question to the family.

Red Robin crosses his arms, “We need someone on the inside to tell us what they are planning for Gotham.”

“I doubt they’d let a newbie in on their plans.”

“Good thing you won’t be a newbie.” Batman says.

Constantine conjures an amulet in his hand. You want to hit him over the head. He could really be a pain in the ass. You grab it from him.

“With this, you’ll be in the perfect position to get in and get out. Easy.” he says.

You shake your head, “Every time you say that I get a new scar.”

“I promise sweetheart. No scars this time.”

“Yeah yeah, you owe me for this.”

EXACTLY ONE WEEK LATER

You knew you would end up wounded. Typically with Constantine it was nothing deadly, or nothing your own magic couldn’t fix. But you knew that your luck had to run out some day. And it wasn't his fault.

After finding out what the group was really up to you couldn’t just let them operate. They weren’t really rebels. No they used that name to paint a narrative. They were fascists.

You held the wound to your waist to stop the bleeding. This would have to be the farthest you could go. There was no way you could run out of this. Not with the blood seeping through the cracks of your fingers.

At least you brunt the members down to the ash. It took a lot out of you. And that’s why you weren’t prepared for a hit that tore right through you.

“Why aren’t you moving?” Jason, or Redhood, said through the comms.

You leaned against the hallway wall.

At least you’d die someplace pretty. When you first came in you didn't notice how clean and meticulous everything was. There were painting of famous magicians on the walls. Along with some stolen art, a Van Gogh or two.

You ripped the amulet off your neck and felt the illusion fade. The necklace fell to the floor and you let out a pained breath.

“I think,” you coughed and on the clean wall was not splatters of blood, “this is it.”

You could hear Jason shouting on the other end. He was calling out your name, calling out for Constantine to come and help you. Duke was calling for you too. And you could’ve sworn you heard Cass say your name once.

With your only free hand you tried to open a portal out of the base. You knew it would be useless as you had a mortal wound and portal magic works best under no stress and panic, or blood loss. The usual light from your hands glowed faintly until it didn’t.

“Constantine can’t summon you?” Dick asked.

At that you let your body drag down the wall until you reached the floor. When you did sit down more blood came out. So you decided to lay down horizontally.

“Hey hey- I told you I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you.” you hear Constantine through the comms.

You want to laugh, but it ends out more of a chocked gargle.

“I screwed up the mission. I deserve it.” you said.

“You did good. Better than any of us.” Batman said.

“Constantine you need to call in whatever favors you have to get her out of there. Now!” Jason shouted.

“Dont,” you started.

“No. We’re getting you out of there-”

“Jason, I’m not a saint. I never would’ve imagined going out like this.” you said.

Once you were born you were thrusted in this world. All you knew was to use magic as a weapon. To get ahead, to get power, to get the glory. And that lasted you until you turned 19.

Then Constantine crossed paths with you. He was the one to show you that magic has other uses. Such as helping and healing. You learned the best stuff from him. And you took what you learned and began to help in ways you could.

You didn’t go on the straight and narrow. Never did you consider yourself a morally correct person. Sometimes the lines were blurred, or they need to be blurred. And so you took down seedy organizations, went on recon missions all over the world.

It wasn’t justice. But it was close enough that you could sleep at night or the odd hours of the morning for more than four hours.

“Sweetheart I don’t break my promises.” Constantine said finally.

You were just beginning to feel your eyes grow heavy. The pain was starting to be comfortably numb. Then above you appeared someone you weren’t expecting in the slightest.

“Caliban?” you asked.

“You owe me double.”

4 DAYS LATER

When you woke up you felt battered and weak You weren’t used to these feelings and you weren’t used to being so close to death. Everyday was a new experience when you’re the Priestess of Espionage.

You cracked open one eye to find a couple of deviants at your side. Jason, Duke and Cass. The youngest took the chair next to you while Duke and Jason seemed to take the floor. Since they weren’t in their gear you guessed that you were out for longer than a couple of hours.

“Not my version of hell but I’ll allow it.” you say in a raspy voice.

It wakes everyone up.

Jason and Duke bolt to your bedside.

“Why’d you almost die on me?” and “Are you feeling okay?” come from them both, respectively. It makes you want to laugh but when you feel the ache in your waist you stop yourself.

“I’m alive, so there’s that. Positives.” you answer.

Jason shoots his younger siblings a look and they scurry out the room. You try to sit up to ask what it was for but he puts his hands up for you to stop any movement. So you lay back down.

“He would kill me if you tore your stitches.”

You shut your eyes, “Jason I don’t think Constantine would kill you per say.”

You hear the door opening so you decide to open your eyes. And sure enough you see Jason leaving the room and someone coming in. Dick Grayson, out of his suit as well.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t read his face. Besides the clear betrayal that was there. He definitely knew that you knew he’s Nightwing.

“Hi.” you say.

His face softens, “Hi.”

“I just want to say that I would’ve told you about who I am. Sooner that you think actually but this mission kinda derailed all of that.” you say.

With his arm crossed over his chest he nods, “How long did you know I was Nightwing?”

You wince.

“For about two years now. Once Jason told me he was Red it was hard to not notice the similarities of the Wayne family and the Bat one.”

He laughs at that and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It must be going good if he wants to laugh.

“And when did he tell you that I like you?” he asks.

“He didn’t explicitly say that.”

There’s a beat of silence. You’re looking at him and he’s looking at you. But he’s the one who seems to be holding his breath this time. You try to hide the smirk you feel forming on your lips.

“What?” he asks.

“Jason had told me that I should ask you out. He didn’t say anything about you liking me.” you answer him.

The red tint that covered Dick Grayson was absolutely adorable.

He nods his head to himself. Twice.

“I- I’m gonna get Jason for you.” he moved to the door. And you don’t really know what to say. All your words get jumbled in your brain and you can’t put them together in a way that is smooth enough so you deicide to just try your best.

“If you were to ask me out, I would say yes.” you say.

He looks directly at you. Then his signature smirk appears.

“I’ll bring back some food for later.” he says.

“it’s a date.” you answer.

#dc x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #Dick Grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #dc #nightwing #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd x reader #Jason todd imagine

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