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anantaru · 11 months

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— calling him a petname for the first time

including kazuha, zhongli, kaveh, scaramouche x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, very sweet n cute

— kazuha + "love"

"there you go."

kazuha proceeded slowly, carefully walking towards you with a cup of sakura bloom tea in his hand— although it was getting relatively hot around inazuma city, when the evenings shadow deepened into a blue and purple, a sudden cold breeze always pelted itself on your face.

you joyfully accept, pulling up the collar of your jacket to shelter your trembling body before taking the cup in your hand, "thank you love." and you certainly said your next sentence without thinking about anything and all.

in fairness, it tumbled out of you rather easily, but the following heat on your cheeks slammed you like a harsh blow when you realized.

"oh?"

kazuha makes himself comfortable next to you, and he looked absolutely beautiful when you face him directly— from the fierce humidity that had occurred earlier on, his upper garments were faintly plastered against his chest and showing a fine outline of his muscles, but the unexpected shade on his skin, the brilliant, blinding blush on his face was not the sun's fault, no, he cannot talk himself out of that one.

it's certain that while you were surprised by the sudden nickname bumbling past your tongue, he too found himself both dumbstruck and flustered by it, wondering why you never said anything like this before.

"I like the sound of that." he admits bluntly, both bracing yourself from a current of a cold breeze washing over your backs, bursting into the heat, his lowered eyebrows and squinted eyes illustrating a motion of both excitement and understanding.

"how should i call you?" oh, well, you didn't see that one coming, did you? but you laugh at his words, then realize he was actually being serious.

"however you want to." you lean close, resting your head against his shoulder as he slants against you as well, both fluttering your lashes open to watch how the sun still casted a faint yellow light through the sky, both awaiting the coldness of the night.

"I will think of something special."

he promises, because kazuha sees nothing but uniqueness and the extraordinary compassion you fueled him with, he's so desperately in love with you, he can barely manage to calm down his heightened breathing.

in his eyes, it's a sentiment not able to be characterized by words— that's how he'd personally describe it if he had to.

— zhongli + "darling"

black, deep branches that traced the blue black heavens overhead, cascading over the darkened night as zhongli finished the last couple tedious tasks he had left before being able to go home and most importantly— finally enclose you in his arms again.

but it was quite different this night, because in a sudden haste, he perceived the sound waves of footsteps nearby, undistinguished, progressively becoming louder until an unforeseen knock on his door.

"yes?"

the man adjusts his clothing before standing up, in pair with you voicelessly opening the door, yet with a smile, one zhongli had dreamed of all day long.

"hello darling." you joke around, being quick when you step towards a pair of open arms, welcoming you right away. "hello to you too."

as a matter of fact, there were a plethora of feelings being released right now, not from you, you were quite busy squishing your face into zhongli's chest, whereas he caught sudden wind of your welcoming words he, at first, didn't note as precisely as he should've.

at the same time, he was aware you were obviously joking around— which you would do more often than not but for some reason he found himself greatly enchanted by being called something else other than zhongli or morax— which, morax was a name you both agreed on not using anymore, despite his past being a pronounced part of him, he preferred to live a life with you, in the present and near future while leaving the past behind for good.

"darling."

in a trice, zhongli addresses you in the same way, but it sounds a little silly coming out of his mouth, maybe because of the certain manner of speaking he'd use on a daily. whilst, who were you to pass up on being called that as well?

with a giggle, you decide to lean into the flavorful gamble, "yes, darling?" and you're quick with your answer, finding it rather amusing how you were able to practically render your boyfriend speechless for a second.

"no wait!" you backtrack, "it fits you more." and point out with a flourish, placing both of your hands against his warm cheeks before puckering your lips out for a quick kiss, "so i figured why not use it on you tonight."

"very well." he accepts the compliment with a gravelly laugh— you cannot even blame zhongli for acting so awkward about it since he never really had something like this before, a genuine relationship with a human.

his gaze narrowed, your sights locked on like magnets, but his entire face sparkled, with the skin on his eyes a little wrinkled round and under them, and with the mouth a little drawn back at the corners he indicates a smile, voice low and ethereal.

it's almost as if with nothing but this, you managed to make his entire day all the more heavenly and fulfilled.

— kaveh + "sweetheart"

what were the specific chances of losing your house keys three damn times this passing week?

kaveh was truly embarrassed about it and wondered if someone else had been playing tricks on him but ultimately decided to brush it off for once in his life, because truthfully— he was tired, to a higher standard exhausted, of walking around sumeru city aimlessly to reach your home now, where he hoped he could stay the night.

to make things worse, it was pouring outside, violently raining and by the end of his designated route, kaveh was thoroughly swamped and so were a couple unfinished drawings he had originally tugged into an envelope, cursing underneath the gloominess of his breathing at the entire moment.

you open the door for your boyfriend, soused in worry, immediately being as understanding and careful as possible, you knew him after all and frankly, it was written all across his face on how awful his day must've went— his eyes lowed as he watched the ground when you took his hand to guide him into your bedroom, so he could change into the spare clothes he left behind at your place a couple weeks ago.

"i cannot do this anymore!" he curses, freeing himself from his drenched garments, the dramatic mannerism and tone was like written out of a dramatic book, fully illustrated and out in the open, and if you didn't know any better you certainly would've answered with a light hearted giggle.

"it's alright." you smile, "you're home now sweetheart."

and follow up your sentence with taking a warm, fuzzy blanket from a drawer, easily slipping it over his shaking body. but hold on— just a second if he may, did kaveh hear that correctly right now?

"what?" his eyes were glowing with a perception of both excitement and being utterly flustered, forgetting he was sad just a second ago.

"what did you just call me?"

it's done now, he can die a happy man after that encounter.

he was observing himself and noticed how this single word shoot an electric pulse through his bones and limbs, he was on fire, truly, already casting aside and putting away the awful day he had prior, it's like it never happened now.

"sweetheart?" you feign innocence, pulling yourself into your boyfriends chest before propping your chin up to face the blonde, the sweetness and compassion he desperately craved from you spiraling inwardly, "do you like how that sounds?"

"i do." kaveh wraps his arms around your body, sighing deeply in his chest, "i really really do."

and silently hopes you'd start calling him that now, because for some reason, hearing you address him in that way, with that familiar soft flutter and how it idly left your lips lingered in his thoughts, tranquilizing him tenderly.

— scaramouche + "baby"

"ugh."

"stop moving, kuni!"

bothersome, or quite tiresome, two words that would perfectly describe the situation you were a part of right now.

if anything would be said or done, scaramouche should be more than delighted, thankful to his very core, that you were gracefully helping him out with his eyeliner on this fine morning— well, if he wouldn't act like a little diva that is.

"i‘m not moving!" he frowns and rolls his eyes at you, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "but you‘re poking my eye on purpose, admit it!"

"i'm not doing it on purpose!" you swiftly bark back and don't give him a single chance to actively engage in a rebuttal, silently inching a little into him until fully seated on his lap, "you're just making it very hard."

okay, he might've been a little too brass today, but you can't really blame him since he had just woken up, his sleepy image was daubed all over him— not just the low-toned shape of his eyes, it's also about the difficulty of staying awake while you're helping him out, because most definitely was sleeping in sounding a lot more appetizing then going to work right after you're done.

maybe, only maybe, dear scaramouche over there did it on purpose, sabotaging your ways of aid, to have you on his lap a little longer. but it's not his fault so don't even dare saying that, you're so comfy when you practically liquefy into his touch and he cannot stop inching you closer to him.

"i'm almost done." you remind him of his current, active fear and he attempts to yank his head to the other side when you swiftly pulled him back to where you wanted him to be.

you whine loudly, "baby!" and quickly lick your thumb to get rid of the expelled color on his face, "i almost messed it up completely!"

"uh—"

he glimmers a little at the name, but tries to keep it low-key if only his cheeks wouldn't decide to blush right now, in the most inconvenient time, "i— I'm sorry."

you laugh before raising a brow, "damn, i never heard you apologize before." and finish up the last line to his eyeliner, yet staying on his lap before sneakily running your hands over the back of his neck to slant yourself into him.

"i never heard you say baby before either." he admits with a giant smirk, but in his usual fashion, with a little snark on the side as well.

"you're right!" you say all giddy, placing a subdued kiss on his lips, "i should use it more often."

in accessory to your kiss, your eyes sparkled vividly before showing the kindness and benevolence he fell in love with.

now, you had suddenly understood what it was about, that in reality kuni only wanted to spend a little bit more time with you before it was impassable to leave for work.

straightaway, scaramouche can't wait for the next time you'll call him that, the little word he already seems to fancy.

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sincerelyyuu · 23 days

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hidden affections • itadori yuji

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after moving to a new school, you quickly gain the affections of a mystery admirer. ➼ pairing: itadori yuji x gn!reader ➼ content/tw: sfw, secretadmirer!yuji, tooth rotting fluff, no curses au, yuji is basically a lovesick puppy and is whipped for reader ➼ wc: 2K words ➼ a/n: desperately in need of some cute yuji content! likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

Growing up, there weren't many people that Yuji found interesting enough to date. People seemed to gravitate towards his friendly and outgoing personality so making friends came easy to him. Even then, there wasn’t anyone that really caught his eye. Of course, he had his preferences (Jennifer Lawrence being one of them), but no one that he considered passing the threshold of friendship with.

That is until he met you.

Nobara had mentioned a new student was transferring into their class. It was a little unexpected considering it was the middle of the school year, so he was curious as to who this person was. When you first stepped into the classroom, Yuji felt the breath knock out of his lungs.

He always thought the idea of falling in love at first sight was so cheesy and something that only happened in movies. Yet suddenly all of those love songs on the radio made sense. You were the most attractive person he’s ever seen. He hadn’t realized he was staring until Nobara shoved an elbow into his side, snickering at the way his jaw snapped shut from the way it hung open. Meanwhile, you stood at the front of the class, doing your best to smile despite your nerves at all the attention on you.

“This is (y/n). They’ll be joining us for the remainder of the school year. They just moved here, so please do your best to make them feel welcome,” the sensei introduced before turning to you. “You may take a seat.”

Bowing in respect to the teacher and then once more to your new classmates, you briefly scanned the room. You decided to take a seat next to a pink haired male who waved hello enthusiastically to you, already feeling your nerves dissipate from his cheery demeanor.

“(y/n), right? I’m Itadori Yuji,” he greeted with a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, Itadori,” you returned his smile, pulling the supplies out of your bag to get ready for the lesson. “I like your hair. It kind of reminds me of strawberry milk.”

The words leaving your lips before you could stop them, you looked at him sheepishly, “Sorry, was that weird to say?”

Yuji laughed lightly, a little embarrassed at your thoughts on his hair. “No, it’s fine. I haven’t heard that one before but thanks, I guess.”

“If you want, my friends Fushiguro, Kugisaki and I can show you around. I wouldn’t mind-, I mean, we wouldn’t mind,” he offers, quickly correcting himself and silently cursing himself for lamely stumbling over his words.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to catch it and nodded your head eagerly, “I’d like that a lot.”

Just like that, you found yourself hanging out everyday with this trio of friends who accepted you into their group with open arms. There was rarely a day where you weren’t with them, be it group study sessions in the library or outside of school going on convenience store runs. Among this group, you naturally became closest with Yuji who always made you feel welcomed.

Meanwhile for Yuji, what started as innocent interest quickly evolved into a full blown crush on you. He was drawn to your bubbly and sweet nature and like a moth to a flame, his heart followed you. He found himself thinking of you all the time, wondering about what you liked or what you were up to. Wondering if you thought about him as much as he thought about you.

It was the little things that sent his heart racing. One random day, his number two pencil had rolled off his desk. Leaning down to grab it, his hand brushed against yours feeling the soft skin of your hand against his fingers. You were a step quicker than him and grabbed the pencil first, placing it back on his desk.

“Thanks,” he expressed, doing his best to fight back the rush of heat to his face.

You merely waved him off nonchalantly in an effort to tell him not to worry about it. After that, Yuji would purposely drop his pencils often in class, timing it so that his hands would brush against yours every time. You joked with him about how clumsy he was when in reality, his hand would tremble as it yearned to hold yours.

Yuji never had a problem with expressing himself to others. However, when it came to you, it was like his brain immediately turned to mush. All of his thoughts fly out of his head the minute you're on his mind.

“Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” Megumi asks him a different day.

“What if they don’t feel the same way?” Yuji whines, plopping his head onto his folded arms on his desk. “It would be so embarrassing if they rejected me.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” his friend replies, mildly amused by the distress on Yuji’s face. “Besides, I’m surprised they haven’t figured it out yet.”

Raising his head, Yuji looks at him in surprise. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Megumi rolls his eyes. “You literally have hearts in your eyes whenever you look at them.”

Did he really? He couldn’t help it. Every time you walked into the room, it was like all he could see was you. The way your eyes light up whenever you wave hello to him. The crinkle of your nose whenever you laugh at something funny he said. Your voice dripping with honey every time you spoke to him. You were absolutely captivating to him.

“Look, I’m just saying that there are other ways to let them know your feelings,” the spiky haired teen suggested cryptically with the gears turning in Yuji’s head as he thought over his best friend’s advice.

The next day, you and Nobara were aimlessly chatting about plans for the weekend. When you walked into class, you were surprised to see a red and brown box sitting on top of your desk. Upon further inspection, you saw it was a pack of chocolate Meiji Hello Panda cookies, your favorite childhood snack.

“Whatcha’ got there, (y/n)?” Nobara asks as she throws her bag to the floor and slips into her desk beside yours.

“Cookies,” you answered and held up the box to her. “Did you see who left these here?”

The ginger shrugged, “Wasn’t from me. Is there a name?”

Taking a closer look at the box, you couldn’t find a sender name. Instead you found a tiny strawberry sticker pasted on the front. Why would someone leave you this on your desk? As if answering your thoughts, Nobara leaned in with a cheeky grin.

“Looks like someone has a secret admirer~,” she teases.

You shook your head at her in disbelief. “I doubt it. Maybe someone is just being nice?” you tried to reason with her.

“Oh, definitely. That’s exactly why I have a box of treats sitting on my desk, too,” Nobara sarcastically retorts and gestures to her empty desk.

You shoved her shoulder playfully with a laugh, opening the box and shaking a couple of the shortbread pandas into her awaiting hand. Hearing a chair screech on your opposite side, you turned to see Yuji looking at you with expecting eyes.

“Hi, Itadori!” you greeted, holding out the box to him. “Want some? Someone really sweet left these for me on my desk today.”

“O-Oh, really? That was nice of them,” he stammered in response.

He stretched out his hand and let you drop a couple of the pieces onto his palm, crumpling the convenience store receipt with the name of the snack inside of his hoodie pocket.

Satisfied with how the first time went, Yuji started leaving anonymous tokens of affection at your desk every day. A single stem of your favorite flower (which he found out through Nobara who had a field day when he told her of his crush on you). A bag of candies as sweet as you. A cute bunny keychain that he won at the local arcade (and spent way too much money to get) that reminded him of you. Each time he would wake up extra early to make sure he was the first one to get to class to leave his little gift.

Feeling a bit braver, Yuji also began writing love notes to you to slip into your locker. Just little one liners onto torn notebook paper of things he wished he could say to you but didn’t have the courage to say to your face.

“Seeing your smile is enough to brighten my whole day.”

“You are my sunshine on my darkest days.”

“Do you understand how amazing you are?”

With every passing day, you wanted so badly to find out who your secret admirer was. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t start to develop a crush on them back. How could you not when they were clearly trying hard to convey their feelings for you in the most endearing way?

The only clue you had was that same strawberry sticker that accompanied each gift and note. You did feel guilty that this mystery person was spending all this time and money on you without getting anything in return. The curiosity was starting to become unbearable.

So, you made up your mind. You were going to find out who this person was whether they were ready or not.

Waking up just as the sun was rising, you hurriedly got ready and made your way to school. Walking through the empty hallways, you stopped just as you were a step away from the door of your homeroom, careful to avoid being seen through the class windows. Your heart accelerated once you heard footsteps inside the classroom. They were already here. Inhaling deeply to steady your rapid heartbeat, you slid open the door.

“...Itadori?” you gasped.

The tall teen looked at you with wide eyes, unceremoniously dropping the adorable shiba dog plushie on your desk. He felt a panic rise in his chest. You weren’t supposed to be here yet. What were you doing here?

Wracking his brain on what to say, he ultimately sighed. Turning to face you, he rubbed the back of his head bashfully, “You finally caught me. It was me.”

You felt your heart grow warm at finally matching a face to all the gifts and the love notes. To think it was your friend Yuji this entire time. As you studied the male, your eyes gravitated up to his strawberry pink locks.

Strawberry. The strawberry sticker. You finally connected the dots. It was his way of telling you it was him and you didn’t even realize it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you questioned softly. Walking up to the tense male, you saw him gulp as you stopped in front of him, looking so nervous and utterly adorable.

Yuji gave a half hearted laugh before replying, “Would you think I’m lame if I told you I was afraid to?"

"You just make me so nervous. I really like you. I’ve liked you for a while now but I didn’t know how to say it without ruining our friendship. I wanted to give you an out in case you didn’t feel the same.”

Picking up the plushie, he tentatively held it out to you. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the way you accepted it and held it to your chest affectionately.

“Yuji,” you gently beamed up at him. “Can I call you that?”

Yuji swore he died and went to heaven upon hearing you say his first name. Cheeks flushing, he nodded fervently. He felt his breath hitch when you leaned up to press a kiss to his reddening cheek.

“Thank you for everything,” your voice full of gratitude as you stared into his fawn colored eyes. “For the record, I really like you, too.”

Feeling a sudden wave of confidence, he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. “Does this mean I can finally take you on a date?” he asks, his cheeks aching from how widely he was smiling.

Hiding your face behind the plushie in your hands, you peered up through your lashes at him with twinkling eyes. Too cute, Yuji thought.

“Just say the word and I’ll be there,” you promised.

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wosoamazing · 4 months

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The Call Up

Summary: Leah's sister chooses a different national team and she isn't happy

Warnings: IDK, angry Leah??, if there is more let me know and I will add them.

A/N: Hey guys, this is my first fic, I'm thinking of turning this into a series I guess, kind of following Leah's sister and also Leah. I'm open to any feedback and also please send in any requests. I hope you like it. Also thank you to @girlgenius1111 for giving me the confidence to post this.

You and your sister were sitting in your living room, surrounded by your team-mates, having a mini team bonding day, it was mostly filled with phones ringing and “I’m in”s. Today was call up day for the senior international break that was coming up, everyone in the room had gotten a call except you, but you weren’t expecting a call, at 16 you were lucky to be in the Arsenal Women’s team, a senior call up was not something you expect. So, when the activities of the room were interrupted by a phone ringing everyone was confused no one else was let to get a call. Their eyes all darted the room checking they hadn’t forgotten someone before they all landed on you.

You sat there holding you buzzing phone, “I guess I better take this”, you stood up and walked out of the now silent room swiping to accept the call.

“Hello, this is Y/F/N Williamson speaking” you answered, every time you answered the phone differently you received a lecture from your sister, so answering the phone this way was now habit.

“Hello Y/N, it’s Tony Gustavsson, the Matilda’s head coach,”

“Yeah, I know,” you heard him chuckle, shit you said that out loud “Sorry, I’m really sorry I shouldn’t have said that”.

You were sure this was a call up, it wasn’t necessarily the call up you expected but secretly it was the call up you always wished for.

“No, no it’s all good. I’m just calling to ask if you would like to join me and my staff and the Matilda’s on international break, you are really quite talented, and we think you could bring a lot to the team.”

“Oh my God, yes, yes, yes, I would love too! Thank you so much!”

“I’m glad, you’ll get an email soon with all the details you’ll need, I look forward to seeing you”.

“Thank you, bye”.

“Bye” he said as he hung up.

It was an unexpected call up but a warmly welcomed called up. You had lived in your sister’s shadow for years; yeah sure you were 16 and in the Arsenal Women’s team but you couldn’t help feel that your sister had something to do with it. Everything you ever did was because of her, your parents put you in football because she played it. You were an avid Arsenal support because that was her team. You always knew one day you would have to choose a national team, but you didn’t expect it so had never actually talked to anyone about it. You had spent your whole life living in England however you were born in Australia which meant you were a dual citizen and could play for either team. You had just chosen which team would be your national team forever without even a second thought.

You were in shock as you walked back into the room that held all the girls, you were on cloud nine, but soon you would fall from that cloud.

“What’s wrong” Leah asked.

“I got a call up”.

“What but under 18s call ups aren’t until next week” you were always called up to the under 18 Lionesses even though you were still eligible to play in their under 16s, so it was fair for her to assume the call up was for that team. There was a silence as you slowly nodded, a small grin appeared on her face growing larger by the millisecond until she screeched “You’re coming on international break with us!”

“Um… Well not exactly” She lost her grin immediately. Was this the right choice?

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going on international break with you, but I am going on international break with a senior team” you replied as you looked around the room everyone’s faces were plastered with absolute confusion, expect for one, Steph Catley, in this moment she held a small barely noticeable smirk on her face, she seemed to know something the rest of them didn’t.

“Well-“, you continued however you were cut off by your phone ringing, “Sorry I should take this” you say as you walk away, you knew who this was, you had remember this number off by heart.

“Hello, it’s Y/F/N Williamson speaking” you answered.

“Hi Y/N, it’s Sarina Wiegman, I was wondering if you would like to join me and the team for international break, my staff and I have been watching you and your quite the powerhouse.”

“Um, I’m really sorry Sarina, thank you so much for the offer but I’m going to have to turn it down”.

“Oh okay-“, she was cut off as you hung up on her. You stood there for a minute soaking it all in before starting to walk back in.

“So?” your sister questioned, you were about to speak but your sisters phone rang “Sorry its Sarina,” you wished you could just disappear, that second, you knew exactly what Sarina was going to say to her, Leah had already received her call up and it was no coincidence that Sarina was calling her just after you hung up on her.

“Hi Sarina, how are-” it seemed she was cut off, “Okay. Oh. Yep. Thank you. Will do, bye” and just like that the call was over.

“Um why did Sarina just call me to say you turned now her offer for you to join us on international break, and worse hang up and not listen to her fish?” The girls’ jaws dropped simultaneously in disbelief, expect for Steph whose smirk had grown larger.

“Because I’m already going on international break like I said” you reply.

“But with who?”

“I think you’re all forgetting something” Steph chimed in. Leah flashed her a glance, Steph’s grin caused Leah’s confused, annoyed and shocked mix of a face to turn into one of almost disappointment and anger.

“What.” you nod, she had realised and there was no turning back now “No.” You smirk “You didn’t. How could you. You know what I don’t even care anymore,” and with that your sister stormed out of living room down to her bedroom and slammed the door, but it opened again “If I was you I would find a place to stay for tonight, and maybe ever,” the door slammed again.

A tear rolled down your check and you let out a shaky breath. “Hey, come here it’s alright,” Steph said softly, holding her arms out gesturing to you. You climbed onto her lap and she embraced you in a tight warm hug.

“Wait, but can someone catch me up, I’m still so confused” Beth piped out, causing some of the girls to giggle.

“Do you want to tell them, or do you want me to?” Steph whispered to you.

“I will.”

You shuffled in Steph’s lap so that you were facing the girls. “I um… well, the first phone call I got was from Tony.” you took a deep breath, Steph gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze “Tony Gustavsson. He, um, he asked me if I wanted to join him and the Matilda’s for their international break, and um, well I-I said that I would love to….”

“Wait, but how are you eligible?” Beth asked, if she’d forgotten they must have all forgotten.

“I was born in Australia, Dad was posted at one of their army training bases by the UK military, because of some agreement between Australia and the UK in terms of training or something. Leah was about 10. Mum fell pregnant with Jacob and I and we were born there, but we moved back here, to England, when I was about one and have lived here ever since. But it does mean I’m a dual citizen meaning I was eligible for both teams”. Jacob was your annoying twin brother that’s all there is to say about him.

“Wait but is Leah?” “That is so cool” “Congratulations” “Don’t worry about Leah she will get over herself.” the girls all spoke at once.

“No Leah isn’t but Dad, Jacob and I are”, they all came over and gave me a big hug.

“We might just go check on Leah if that is okay” Beth, Kim, Viv, Katie, and Lia said. I nodded at them, and they turned around to go find Leah.

“We’re going to head off, if we want Amanda to be packed in time to go to camp, we better get her home now” Stina said “Hey,” Amanda replied as she was offended. Majority of the team followed them out, Caitlin showing them out before locking the door and coming back to join Kyra, you and Steph, positioning herself in the middle of where you and Steph were placed on the couch and where Kyra was sitting on the floor, by sitting down on the end of the couch.

Kyra still held the huge grin on her face that had appeared earlier when you said Tony called you. Her cheesy grin going ear to ear and knowing what she was thinking about made you giggle slightly. At this Steph and Caitlin looked over to her, when Caitlin playfully hit her. “Hey! What was that for?” she said like a child.

“You’re not going to be allowed to cause mischief in Aus, Sam won’t let that fly, you know that”, Kyra dramatically pouted with an “Oh” which caused you to giggle again and the older two to chuckle.

“You excited bug?” “Do you want us to help you pack?” “It’s going to be so cool having you on the team” they all stated. Another tear rolled down your check at these words, however this time it wasn’t a lone tear, it was followed by another and another until suddenly you were sobbing. “Hey, hey, hey,” Steph calmly said as she turned you back around to face her and wrapped you in a nice warm tight hug, in efforts to calm you down. Caitlin scooted closer to you and Steph and started to rub your back. Once you had calmed down slightly Steph let go of you and wiped the tears from your face whilst also slightly lifting your head, so you looked at her.

“What’s up?” She questioned.

“I-I,” you stuttered as another tear rolled down your face, which you wiped away with your hand, you went to put you hand back towards your chest in efforts to keep the tight ball your body had formed, but it was intercepted as someone else took it in their hand. You looked up and it was Kyra, she must’ve moved to sit next to you guys when you were crying. Kyra gave you a warm smile to which you returned before you turn your head to face Steph again. “W-What, if, this isn’t,” another shaky breath left your body before you could continue “What if this isn’t the right decision, maybe I just decided this in spite of Leah and not for me.” You spit out, the tears start fall faster again.

“Oh baby, it’s okay to be unsure, but I know that you know this is the right decision. I remember you telling me you wanted to be on my team on your second day at Arsenal, I replied to you ‘well that dream came true’, to which you looked at me like I had three heads and said ‘No, I want to be a Matilda’.” All four of you giggle before Steph continued “I think that was one of the first, actually no it was the first thing you said to me, and you were so admit and sure about it, it was what you wanted to do, and it still is, and maybe part of you wants to do it to go against Leah and prove to yourself and to Leah and maybe even your family, that you aren’t Leah’s Mini Me, that you are, you, and not her shadow but even doing it for that reason doesn’t mean you’re not doing it for you” you hum in reply, as you soaked in everything Steph had said and thought about it.

“Does Leah hate me now?” you ask thinking back to her initial reaction.

“No, no she doesn’t” Caitlin spoke this time.

“She might,” Kyra added food for thought, “Oi Kyra don’t,” Steph told Kyra off “No she doesn’t hate you, she just overreacted that’s all, and I think she felt a bit caught off guard, after all no one else knew you were thinking about choosing the Matilda’s over the Lionesses.” Content with her answer you nodded, leaning back in for a hug, that’s how you four remained for the next few minutes, you in Steph’s lap, her hugging you, Caitlin’s hand still on your back and your hand holding Kyra’s. That was until you were interrupted.

Soft footsteps were followed by Beth’s voice “See I told you she was, and she would be fine” you could even hear Beth’s ‘I’m right’ smirk in her voice.

You lifted your head and turned it around to see you sister standing there surrounded by your older teammates, her tearstained, red slightly puffy face matched yours. As she walked towards you, Caitlin’s hand left you back. Letting go of Kyra’s hand you glanced at Steph who nodded before you once again found yourself shuffling in her lap, this time turning around to face your sister. She bobbed down in front of you taking both your hands in hers.

“Bug, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have behaved like that.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled as she glanced up at Steph who gave her a reassuring smile and said, “It’s okay, she’s okay, we will look after her”, you watched your sister sit down on the couch and gesture for you to come over to her, with that you left Steph’s lap and climbed onto your sister’s lap.

Steph, Caitlin and Kyra communicated silently before standing up and following the others into the kitchen leaving you and your sister alone in the living room. You could hear that the others were speaking but you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you just continue to sit in your sister’s lap enjoying her warm embrace for a moment before looking up to her, and saying “I love you.”

“I love you too bug, so so so much” she said as a tear rolled down her check, “and I’m really sorry for the way I reacted, I-I, I just didn’t really expect it and was caught off guard slightly, but the girls helped me realised I never actually heard you say you wanted to join the Lionesses, we never spoke about it, it was just something that I assumed, something I thought was a given, but it was never a given, you were always eligible for two national teams, and it does make sense as to why you choose them. But I shouldn’t reacted that way and I really regret saying the things I said.”

“It’s okay” you said as you smiled at her.

“But bug it really isn’t, and I am very very sorry.” you nodded burying your head in her chest.

“Bug,” you looked up at her whilst rolling your eyes, how many times does she have to say bug in one moment. Bug was her nickname for you (there is a long story behind how it came about) and whilst you didn’t mind it she was the only one allowed to use it generally, you didn’t mind if the other girls used it when you were upset, or sick but in general it was prohibited, however maybe she needed to be prohibited from using it too. She chucked at your reaction before continuing “I am really proud of you, you know that. Getting a senior call up at 16, to a different team than your youth national team, that really is something bug, and I’ve never said it, but you really are amazing you know that, you are so talented and driven-”

“That’s a lie” she was cut off by Katie, to your surprise the rest of the girls were now standing in the living room, you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t realise they were there, and by her slight jump neither did your sister. They handed you and your sister some water before sitting down around you two. You looked at Katie, who realised what you were ‘saying’ and continued “Well the never said it part is wrong, the amazing talented part is just straight facts,” you smiled at Katie, “but honestly, I don’t think a training goes by where she doesn’t say something along the lines of you being amazing.”

“Yeah honestly, it’s always like ‘did you see that?’” Viv spoke up before the rest joined in mocking your sister.

“Oh my God, she really is good isn’t she”.

“She might be better than you”.

“That was amazing”.

“I don’t think I was that good at her age, well maybe I was but you weren’t”.

You laughed at your sister’s expense. “But she is not wrong,” your captain Kim said before the room fell to silence, your head lay on your sister’s chest.

“Well, we best get going” Lia states, the others responded with many yeahs before getting up. “No stay,” you quickly spat out whilst they were all gathering their things to leave, you looked up to your sister, who after today’s events melted at your pleading little face, she looked up at the girls who were all looking at her awaiting a response.

“Guys, I mean you’re welcome to stay if you want, we are more than happy for you to stay, but if you have anything important on you don’t have to stay” she sighed.

“What else would we have on?” Kim questioned as they all sat down, someone turned on the TV causing some of them to have a heated argument over what to watch, you would normally be the ringleader in these arguments however today you just wanted to stay in your sister’s comfort, feeling slightly tired. You felt the slight dip in the couch, as someone sat down next to Leah, if anything slightly oddly close, but a familiar sent met your nose and you knew who it was and so you were content, the scent belonged to a person who had be coming over to your house more often recently, you didn’t mind her presence though, she made your sister happy and she could actually cook.

_________________

The sudden knock at the door woke you from your nap, you rubbed your eyes as the girls all looked at you some of them cooing. You heard another knock at the door followed by your sister’s “Oh Shit”.

“What?” one of the girls questioned.

“It’s our parents and the evil twin” you said not bothering to move from you position on your sister, however your position was different to the one you were in before your nap, she must’ve gotten up at some stage.

“I forgot they were coming over,” she said whilst trying to get up, her movement was only to be met with your grumbles. Lia went over and let you parents in. Once they stood in the living room you decided to get up and go greet them.

All the girls said hello to them too before Kim said, “Well we best head off, we will leave you to your family night.”

Your Mum gave Kim a tap on the arm before saying, “no nonsense you girls are welcome to stay, you’re family after all, just in a different way. And plus, Leah clearly forgot we were coming”.

“Oh okay, thank you. We’ve just had a bit of a tough day, most likely why Leah forgot.” Kim stated trying to help Leah’s case.

“Yes, I gathered that, anyone mind getting me up to date” Mum replied.

“I got a senior team call up!” you said excitedly.

“That’s fantastic!” “Well done sweetheart” your parents reply “Well, it’s official I’m the failure of the family” your twin brother joked.

“I’m going to be a Matilda” you said slightly more cautiously, there was a moment of silence, and you were unable to read your parents faces.

“Well, I did always like the Aussies” Your Dad remarked.

“That’s amazing sweetheart” they both pulled you in for a hug whilst looking around the room still a little confused, having a senior team call up wouldn’t be the reason their youngest daughter was fast asleep on their eldest’s lap when they got not, nor does it explain Leah’s guilty face, it wasn’t a I’m sorry I forgot guilty face, it was something else.

“Why don’t I take you to the kitchen, so you can grab a glass of water,” Kim said as they followed her in, whilst they knew where the kitchen was, they knew there was an implied meaning to what Kim had said, and apparently Jacob did too, “Wait for me, I want in on the tea” Jacob yelled running after them.

Jacob came running back in, your parents and Kim following shortly after. “High five” Jacob yelled as you high fived him. “What was that for?” You asked.

“For pissing of Patsy over there” you chuckled at his reply. He insisted on calling you sister Patsy.

“Well, I’m thinking Pizza and maybe a beer in celebration, anyone else?” You Dad asked, everyone in the room cheered.

The rest of the night was spent eating, drinking (one beers each as you all had training tomorrow), watching TV and just chilling. You soaked it all up, the moment, the feeling, the love, as your family, both blood and chosen, celebrated in your honour.

#woso x reader #woso community #arsenal wfc #woso #woso fanfics #leah williamson #awfc #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #arsenal women #matildas #auswnt #woso imagine #lionesses #womens football #woso soccer

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 1 year

Text

After All This Time | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hello! Who wants to have their feelings hurt?! 🙋🏻‍♀️ I love some good angst, some pain, some emotional turmoil.

Warnings: relationship drama, references to violence, arguments, crying, ex!Bucky

“What are you doing here?” You stared at Bucky, shocked. Perplexed. He had no business at your apartment. Especially not so late at night. Especially not after what he’d done. The way he’d treated you. It took a long time- too long- to achieve some sense of normalcy after things fell apart. After he broke your heart. You weren’t over him; you feared you never would be. But you finally arrived at something that resembled stability. You were nearly okay- nearly.

But Bucky’s unexpected presence took you out at the knees. Was he always this beautiful? Or did you just miss him? His hair was a bit longer, his stubble a little scruffier. His deep blue eyes softened at the sight of you. No, he was always this beautiful. Dammit.

His expression was stern. Serious. Just like it had been when he left. He’d promised you he’d never come back. “Can I come in?” He was a liar, apparently.

“What? No.”

Bucky breezed past you anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest, hiding the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra. Your arms hugged your body, crisscrossing over your old college shirt. Thank god you hadn’t opted to wear one of the many henleys he’d left behind. The humiliation of him seeing you in one of his old shirts would’ve been too much. You knew you shouldn’t wear them anymore, but you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop yourself from cloaking your body in the comfort they provided. It was sad, maybe even a little pathetic. But you didn’t know how to stop.

“Hey- You can’t just barge into my apartment-”

“Shut the door.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “No. What do you- get out.”

Bucky closed and locked the door for you. His fingers twisted the key in the deadbolt and fastened the chain. He even pulled on the door once- then twice. It was secure. He positioned his body in front of it- either blocking your way out or someone else’s way in. You weren’t sure which.

“Go pack a bag. We’re leaving here in five minutes.” He checked his watch, “Sooner, if you can manage it.” He looked up from his wrist and finally let himself drink you in. Were you always this breathtaking? Or was he just happy to see you? Your skin glowed in the yellow light of your reading lamp. Your hair was shorter now- he liked it. Yeah, you were always this intoxicating. Bucky wondered how he could even question it.

“Are you out of your mind? We’re not going anywhere.” Anger was easier. Easier than sadness, than heartbreak. You let wrath wrap itself around your heart, shielding you from the pain. Bucky didn’t belong in your home anymore, no matter how badly you wished he did. He didn’t want to be here- he didn’t want you. He’d made that painfully clear.

And though part of you liked seeing him here, existing in the home you once shared, you knew it would only serve to hurt you. Your voice was quieter this time, less confident, “You need to leave.”

He let out a huff, as though he had the right to be annoyed with you. “Just trust me on this,”,

“Trust you? That’s hilarious-”

“You’re not safe here,” he said. His tone was firm, irrefutable. “Someone attacked Pepper and Morgan. Clint’s wife, Laura, and their kids. Murdock’s associate- that guy Nelson.”

A burst of worry shot through you, “Shit. Are they okay?”

“They’re fine. They’ve all been relocated.” He wondered how you could worry about others while bypassing any concern for yourself. But the distress on your face was real; you’d gotten close with the families of the team before Bucky left. They welcomed you like one of their own, and your care for them survived even after things with Bucky died.

“Sam is taking his sister and her kids somewhere- everyone’s moving their loved ones.”

Silence. You waited for Bucky to elaborate. He waited for you to put the pieces together.

“So… why are you here? What does any of that have to do with me?”

“Hydra. They’re coming after our lov-” Bucky cleared his throat, “the people in our lives.”

You shook your head, “Yeah, I get that. But I’m not in your life.”

Bucky knew you weren’t his anymore, but hearing you say it cut him to the bone.

The strong façade you wore threatened to crumble. This was too much for you- almost cruel. Back when things were good, they were really good. You planned on staying with Bucky forever. You saw yourself marrying him, spending the rest of your days together. He’d had other plans. He left you. And never looked back.

“I’m fine here,” you told him. “I don’t need you.”

Bucky struggled for words. This was harder than he thought. “Well… they- they don’t know that we...” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Hydra, I mean, they don’t know what um, what happened. We were pretty public- they might think we’re still together. So, I need to get you to a safe house. Just in case.”

“Why?” The question hung heavy in the air.

Bucky didn’t say a word.

“Since when do you care? Don’t act like I matter to you all of a sudden- don’t pretend that you’re worried about me.” You forced every ounce of emotion behind an impenetrable wall, “leave. I’m serious, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You’re in danger. And I…” He ran a hand through his hair “Just come with me. Let me protect you.”

“I’m not yours to protect.” The stinging sensation of approaching tears burned behind your eyes. “So… you can go.”

Your words gutted him. He hadn’t felt this much pain since he left, since the last time he saw you. He’d left you alone in the apartment you once shared. He’d shut the door and stood on the other side, unable to walk away. His forehead rested against the wood, and he listened to you. The sound of you sobbing- wailing- drove stakes into his chest. But he knew it was better this way.

“Yeah, I know that…” he said, his voice softer now. “But your family, your friends- they’ll be devastated if something happens to you. Don’t do that to them. Come with me. And when this blows over, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

You hated that he was right. To let your pride endanger your life was selfish, stupid. You could practically hear your mom telling you to go with him.

But there was a side of you would rather die at the hands of Hydra than share a safe house with Bucky. Sure, you missed him. A lot. You wished he’d never walked out that door. But spending days- or weeks- with him? Just the two of you? In a secluded location? It would tear you to pieces.

You grumbled under your breath, “fine. How long will we be gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, then- where are we going?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Coordinates will be sent to the jet once we board.”

“Okay, great. Perfect. I don’t know how much to pack. I don’t know what kind of clothes I need. Awesome. Thanks, James.” You turned on your heel and headed toward your bedroom, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

James. James. You’d never called him James. Ever. Not even in a joking sense. He was always Bucky or Buck or Barnes or baby- depending on the context. Never James. It was so impersonal, you regarding him by his government name. So cold. Distant. He knew he deserved it- deserved way worse. But it stung, nonetheless.

With you busy in the other room, Bucky drank in the warmth of your apartment. It was inviting, cozy. Just like always. You’d gotten a few new pieces of art since he left; they took up the spaces left empty by the photos you removed. The picture of the two of you from a Stark gala. A strip of the two of you laughing in a photo booth at the pier. A polaroid of him kissing your cheek at Sam’s birthday party. He wondered what you did with them. Did you still have them- somewhere? Did you hide them away in a dusty box under the bed he used to share with you?

Or did you burn them?

He missed living there. Missed waking up next to you, missed making dinner for you. Missed you.

“Hey, I’m sorry to call so late…” you said into your phone, cradling it between your ear and your shoulder. “I’m gonna have to work from, um- I have to leave town for a little while.”

Bucky heard you on the phone with your boss, doing your best to lie your way through the situation. But you didn’t give much detail, just like he’d taught you when you first started dating. He told you never to trust anyone fully- never to believe that someone is worthy of every secret. He’d been speaking about outsiders. But when he left, he proved to you that no one deserved your trust. Not even him.

“Yeah, just family stuff,” he heard you say. “My cousin has been sick and took a turn for the worst, so… I need to be there just in case.”

He was so proud.

You stuffed clothes into a bag and rounded up the necessary toiletries. Your laptop, headphones, and a few books made the cut, and you grabbed the bag’s zipper, prepared to give it a final yank. But as you tried to close it up, a piece of fabric caught your eye. You let out a deep sigh. You’d moved on instinct, grabbing things from your closet and dresser without thinking. And some of Bucky’s old clothes had found their way among your items.

A flannel, two henleys, and a sweatshirt sat nestled at the bottom of your bag. They were some of your favorite things to wear- soft, comfortable, cozy. But you couldn’t bring them with you. Not when there was a chance Bucky would see them. You quickly swapped them out with pieces that didn’t belong to him and thanked the universe you’d noticed before it was too late.

When you emerged moments later with duffel bag in hand, Bucky was waiting for you. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the door. Hadn’t taken off his jacket. He wasn’t welcome here anymore. And making himself at home wasn’t right.

“Uh, here’s this,” he outstretched a hand in your direction and offered you a phone. “We can’t be sure that your phone isn’t being tracked. So, you have to leave yours here. This is a burner- just for emergencies.”

You dropped your phone on the counter with a dramatic groan and took the burner from his hand. Not only were you to be trapped for an indeterminant amount of time with the man who ripped your heart out of your chest and eviscerated it in front of your eyes- but you also had to give up your phone. “This feels like a kidnapping.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He made a move for your bag, “I can take that for you-”

“I got it”.

With a nod, he opened the door and checked the hall for potential dangers. And when he deemed it safe, he gestured for you to join him. He watched you lock the door- and smiled to himself when he realized you still used the same key. You never changed the locks after he left.

“This is the most conspicuous thing I’ve ever seen…” A jet sat on the roof of your building, just a few feet from the stairwell. “If Hydra didn’t know where I was before, they definitely do now.”

Bucky gave an awkward laugh, paired with a quiet “yeah”, and tried to help you board. But you shied away from any attempts as assistance. You needed to prove to Bucky that you didn’t need him anymore- no matter how untrue it was.

The flight was awkward. Quiet. Tense. You couldn’t escape to the back of the jet and hide from Bucky- there was no ‘back’. It was a small aircraft. Only enough room for two. It forced you to sit next to him, watching clouds paint with windows with their condensation as the jet sliced through the sky.

“So…” Bucky said after a while, “how’ve you been?”

You quieted him with a look.

The answer to his question was complicated- you didn‘t have the emotional energy to explain. Diving into how angry and miserable and lonely you’d been since his departure would take hours. Maybe days. And he didn’t deserve the inside scoop. He wasn’t welcome to your secrets or the inner workings of your mind- not anymore.

“We’re here…” Bucky said, his voice pulling you from your light sleep. You didn’t realize you’d nodded off. But sleep was the only escape from the painfully awkward situation he’d put you in.

“Okay, so…” Bucky opened the door to the house and gestured for you to enter before him. Still such a gentleman. “I know this place is kinda small. But I’m gonna do my best to not be in your space.” He flipped on a few lights and bathed the house in a warm yellow light. “They promised that the kitchen is stocked. I think there’s firewood somewhere in case we get cold. And there should be clean sheets and towels and stuff in a closet somewhere. As for the, um…” He cleared his throat, “the sleeping arrangements. There’s only one bedroom, so it’s yours- I’m gonna take the couch.”

He threw his bag over the back of the couch and watched it bounce against the cushions. “Let me know if you need anything.”

What you needed, he couldn’t give you. He couldn’t go back in time and reverse the effects of breaking your heart. He couldn’t rid you of the agony brought on by his absence. And so, with a curt nod, you bid him goodnight.

It was nearly three in the morning by the time you made the bed and crawled beneath the covers. You curled into a ball and pulled the blankets up over your head, as though protecting yourself. This had to be a joke. A prank. The wound Bucky’s departure caused had barely scabbed over- and his return flayed it wide open. It throbbed and ached as you cried under the safety of your blankets. You didn’t know what you’d done in a past life to deserve hurt like this.

Bucky collapsed onto the couch. He slumped forward and rested his head in his hands, replaying every moment since you opened the door. The look on your face when you saw him again, the disdain in your voice, the distrust you held for him- it made his chest ache. He hated himself for throwing away the best thing he’d ever had. For hurting you. For breaking the trust you’d built together.

He didn’t sleep that night- the pain didn’t let him. He, instead, remained awake. Wired. He cleaned his guns. Double and triple checked his supply of ammo. He made sure every window was locked, every door secure. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.

The following day passed slowly. Bucky made enough breakfast for both of you, and kept your portion warm while he did the dishes and waited for you to wake. But you never joined him. You remained holed up in your room, miserable.

You didn’t care about Hydra; they couldn’t hurt you more than Bucky already had. Sure, they could beat you senseless and bleed you dry. They could torture you and hold you hostage. But it simply couldn’t compare. Physical injuries heal. They scab over and turn to scars. But the pain Bucky caused never ceased. The wound bled day and night. His mark on you could never be fixed.

Only when your hunger pangs grew painful did you leave the safety of your room.

“Hey, I made breakfast…” Bucky said when you finally emerged, “I tried to keep yours warm but- it’s in the fridge if you want it. I know it’s well past breakfast time and you probably don’t want cold spinach scramble and hashbrowns, but-”

He was being so nice; he still remembered your favorite breakfast. You thought back on all the Sunday mornings you’d spent together, making breakfast and listening to music. Drinking coffee. Dancing in the kitchen until the food almost burned. But you banished the memories. And sent away the warm feelings brought on by Bucky cooking for you again.

You didn’t make eye contact, didn’t thank him. Instead, you rummaged through the cabinets until you found a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread. “I’ll make something for myself,” you told him.

“Oh- okay, yeah. Knives are in the drawer to your left.” Bucky felt himself hovering. He stood across the kitchen island from you like an expectant child hoping for the approval of a stern parent. He knew he’d never get it, didn’t deserve it. But he couldn’t help himself. Being so close to you felt good. Really good. And though he’d promised he wouldn’t invade your space, he found it impossible to walk away.

You, however, couldn’t get away fast enough. You hastily made a sandwich and grabbed a glass of water before retreating to you room, safe from Bucky’s gaze. With the door shut, you allowed yourself to sink down to the floor. A gnawing sense of soul-crushing sadness eclipsed any feelings of hunger. But you forced the sandwich down anyway. You swore to yourself that everything would be okay, that you’d go home soon enough and try once again to heal.

But you didn’t believe your own words.

Bucky hated how uncomfortable you were around him. It was his fault, and he knew it, but it made him sad all the same. At one time, he’d been the person you loved most. The person you cared for. The one you could trust. You knew, without a doubt, that you could go to him with anything. Any problem, any worry- no matter how small. And he’d find a way to make it better. And if he couldn’t fix it, he could at least make you smile. He could bring you comfort and make you feel safe. Loved. He was the only one you wanted. The only person for you. His soul and yours were forged in the same fire- just a few decades apart.

But that fire was dead- snuffed out. And Bucky no longer held the secret key to your heart. He brought you only anguish and anxiety. Torment. Agony. And he hated himself for it.

He wondered if you’d spent all your time hiding in that bedroom. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. You weren’t happy around him like you used to be- why would you subject yourself to such unpleasant feelings unless it were absolutely necessary? He resolved to give you as much space as possible, to leave the room when you made your way to the kitchen. To not hover. Anything to make you more comfortable.

And if that meant that he didn’t get to speak to you for the remainder of your time in hiding, then so be it.

That night, however, he got to speak to you again.

He didn’t rest the night of your arrival, not even for a moment. And it finally got to him. He turned in early, falling asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace. The last few embers glowed orange beneath the charred wood, but all warmth was gone. His sleeping form tossed and turned beneath a thin blanket. Droplets of sweat bloomed from his skin as heaving breaths forced their way into his chest.

A familiar sound woke you in the middle of the night. You hadn’t heard it in quite some time, but knew you’d never forget it. Bucky was having a nightmare. And before you had a moment to rethink your actions, you were up. You ditched your bedding and fled in the direction of his screams.

And he woke to the soft sound of your voice.

“Bucky, hey…” you placed your hands on his shoulders. “Hey, wake up. Bucky-”

His eyes flew open and quickly focused on your face. And though your presence brought a relief he hadn’t experienced in what felt like years, it was too late. His heart hammered against his ribs; his lungs burned. He couldn’t breathe.

“You’re okay. You’re alright. Here-” One of your hands migrated from his shoulder to his chest while the other searched for one of his. You dragged his hand upward and mirrored the placement, pressing his palm to your sternum. It was muscle memory, a deep-seeded reflex you didn’t know you still had. You used to do it every night- back when Bucky was still yours. He liked it. He said it made him feel like you were synching your heartbeat with his. And it always calmed him down.

Bucky let loose a deep sigh of relief. It seemed to come from somewhere else completely, like he’d been holding his breath since the last time he touched you. Your pulse beat strong and steady beneath his hand, thudding against his palm like his own personal metronome. And maybe it was all in his head, but he felt his own heartrate slow. He breathed easier. A smile pricked at the corners of his mouth.

But you pulled away all too soon.

Bucky sat up in pursuit of your recoiling hand, “Thank you…”

“Yeah.” You stood, hoping to make it back to your room before the tears began to fall. But Bucky’s words stopped you.

“I really- I really appreciate you waking me. And doing… that. For me.” He felt himself growing sheepish, but couldn’t let the encroaching embarrassment get the best of him. “I missed it- I missed you.”

Something in you snapped.

You turned toward him with a strange mixture of anger and pain burning behind your eyes, your breathing growing ever sharper.

“Why am I here?” Your tone was calm, measured. It was the kind of rage that turned your words to ice. To stone.

He cocked his head to the side, “um, because of Hydra. Because you’re in danger…”

“But why am I here?” You felt yourself losing control, “You heard they were going after the team’s loved ones and you thought to yourself, ‘hmm, that girl I completely destroyed, that girl whose life I ruined, that girl who I most certainly do not love, that girl I left for no reason, she’s in danger! Hydra will probably go after her, you know, since I haven’t seen her or spoken to her in almost a year!’”

Bucky didn’t know what to say.

“This makes no fucking sense, James!”

James. You’d let one or two ‘Buckys’ slip earlier- never again.

“Why did you come to my apartment? Why did you fucking kidnap me and bring me to this stupid house? Why did you put me on the same tier as Tony’s wife? As Clint’s wife? We aren’t together, I’m not in your life, and I’m certainly not a ‘loved one’- you made that painfully clear. Why did you-”

“Because I still love you”

You rolled your tear-filled eyes, “Don’t you fucking lie to me.”

“I’m not lying…” Bucky sighed. “I swear on my life.”

An ugly scoff broke free from your throat, “I’m supposed to believe that? You once ‘swore on your life’ that you’d never hurt me. And that shit clearly wasn’t true, so-”

“I swear on Steve’s life. I swear on his grave,” Bucky’s voice wavered ever so slightly. “I still love you. I never stopped.”

It rendered you speechless.

“I never wanted to hurt you. And I didn’t want to leave. But I didn’t know what else to do.”

You stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. “You ‘didn’t know what else to do’? You left me because you ‘didn’t know what else to do’?”

Bucky shook his head. Regret pooled in his chest, and he wished to take back every stupid word. “That’s not what I meant-” he sighed. “I mean… I’m- I’m not meant for this. To be with someone. To be loved. Bad stuff- really bad stuff- follows me around. The war and the train and Hydra and Zemo and Thanos and the blip and the Flag Smashers and-”

He fought to catch his breath. “I break things. Anything I touch- it gets ruined.” He paused for a moment. Everything inside his head moved too fast. It blurred past him and fell from his lips before he had a chance to make edits. And if he was going to fix this, he needed to be in control.

“I never wanted to break you. Or put you in danger.”

“You never hurt me- physically…” you said. “You know I was never scared of you- I didn’t think I was ever in danger with you. I didn’t think you’d break me-”

“No, I know. I know.” Getting to that point had been hard for him. He shied away from you for so long, scared he’d somehow make you bleed or paint your skin with bruises. But you’d worked with him. You showed him patience and moved at his pace, working through the fear he held.

“What I mean is… I got scared because people knew about us. Our relationship was public. And I was afraid that putting you in the public eye like that would invite danger. A lot of people hate me- they want revenge. Retribution. So I thought…” he rolled his eyes at his past-self, at the version of him who let you get away. “I thought removing myself from your life would ensure your safety.” He shrugged, “no one would have reason to come after you if we weren’t together-”

“And look where we are now…” you said, “Hiding. In a safehouse. Because my life is in jeopardy.” Part of you- the soft side- wanted to show him mercy. To hold him and make him feel safe. To console him. But the side of you who wore brass knuckles and steel toed bootsa prevailed, “That was a really fucking stupid thing to do…”

Bucky gave a pained chuckle, “yeah, I- I know.” His cheeks reddened ever so slightly, and his shoulders slumped with shame. He knew he fucked up. “I’m sorry. About all of it. About leaving. About hurting you- God, I never wanted to hurt you.” The pain in his eyes could’ve made you crumble.

“And I’m sorry about putting you in harm’s way. About abducting you like this.” He took a small step in your direction; he couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t drawn to you. But he knew he had no right to exist in such close proximity to the person he hurt. And so he stopped himself, no matter how badly he wished he didn’t have to.

“But to answer your question with full honesty…” he said, “you’re here because I love you. Because I’ll always love you. And even though you hate my guts- which you absolutely should- I care about you. And I want to keep you safe, as safe as I can. I want to protect you.” He let out a sigh, “And I know you’re not… you’re not mine to protect, but-” The words tasted like vinegar. If Bucky thought hearing them hurt, he was wrong. Saying them was far worse. “you’re here because I would rather die than let anything happen to you.”

He didn’t like the way your shoulders were yanked up near your ears, the way your arms sat crossed over your chest- like you were trying to protect yourself. But he understood. He’d hurt you- badly. Left you gutted and bleeding. He knew you’d never trust another thing he said- rightfully so.

Silent tears flowed freely down your cheeks and dripped down your neck. The weight of Bucky’s words forced you to lean against the nearest wall. Everything your friends said about him, everything your family told you- it was wrong. He wasn’t apathetic. He wasn’t inconsiderate or manipulative. He was just misguided- maybe a little stupid.

“I told myself…” you finally said, “for months, I told myself that you never loved me. That you used me to make yourself feel better.”

Bucky vehemently shook his head, “that’s not-”

“What was I supposed to do? I needed something to make me feel better…” you said. “It was easier to think that you never loved me. But you left me because you loved me? That’s- that was a terrible idea, by the way.”

“I know…”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded from your eyes and left droplets on your shirt. “I want… I want to believe you. I want to believe every nice thing you just said and pick up right where we left off. But I’m…” You pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your hands and wiped the tears from your cheeks, “I’m scared- I’m scared to trust you again. To let my guard down.”

Bucky took another small step in your direction. “That’s fine, that’s… understandable- more than understandable. Smart.”

You nodded.

“And I don’t want you to think- I’m not telling you all of this to convince you to get back together with me. Or to upset you- I never want to hurt you again. You just deserve to know the truth. So…”

He wondered how the two of you got to this point. How you went from domestic bliss to something so ugly. But he knew exactly how it happened- it was his fault. And he didn’t deserve a second chance. He deserved to be alone for the rest of his life while you moved on, found someone new- someone better. He wanted that for you. Of course, he’d rather have you all to himself. But it wasn’t right.

“It’s just- I’ve been regretting… well, everything, since the moment I left. I wish I would’ve talked to you, you know? I wish I was honest. I wish I told you what was going on inside my head.” He ran a hand through his hair, “maybe things would’ve been different.”

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say these things…” you said. “But now that you’re saying them it feels…” The floor rocked beneath your feet. You teetered to the side and reached for the arm of the couch- it was all too much. The lack of sleep, the emotional exhaustion, the weight of Bucky’s words. You needed to sit.

Bucky reached for you, desperate to help you steady yourself- but he pulled away. He didn’t have permission to touch you. Not anymore.

“Things absolutely would’ve been different,” you let out a deep sigh. Every possible outcome you came up with ended far better than the reality. “Because we would’ve worked through it together. As a team. And no one would’ve gotten hurt.”

All Bucky could do was nod.

“And maybe we’d still end up in this safe house, but we’d probably use it as a makeshift romantic getaway instead of an agonizingly awkward prison sentence.”

The thought brought a smile to Bucky’s face, to yours. It was easy to imagine the two of you camped out in the living room, reading by the fire and drinking old-fashioneds. You’d stay up late watching movies together and sleep until noon. And when the threat was eliminated, you’d almost wish for more danger- anything to keep the two of you in your own little world.

Everything went quiet. Neither of you knew what to say- or if there were any words appropriate for the situation. Was there even anything else to be said? Part of you wanted to retreat to your bedroom. To hide under your covers. But you wouldn’t allow yourself to squander this moment.

A sad smile pulled at your lips. “I don’t know where… where are we supposed to go from here?” You stared at Bucky as though he had all the answers, as though it wasn’t him who burned your world to the ground.

“I don’t think we have to go anywhere,” he said. “Nothing has to change between us- like I said, I’m not trying to change your opinion about me or make you feel bad. When this whole thing blows over, I’ll take you home. I’ll stay out of your hair.” He leaned against the wall opposite you, submitting to his future- and to his past, “I know I can’t change what I did.”

Another long silence filled the space. It pushed its way in between the two of you and rested heavy against your chest. Bucky waited for a curt ‘okay’ or a quick ‘goodnight’, but no such thing came.

“What if I don’t want that?” you said after a while.

He pushed away from the wall, as though your words pulled him upright. “What?”

“What if I want to try again?” Your heart thundered against your chest, growing faster and faster with each passing second. You stood on the precipice, willing yourself to fall. This was your chance, the opportunity you’d hoped for. And though it sent fear coursing through your veins, you knew you had to jump.

“No matter how many times I tell myself that you hurt me for the fun of it or that you never actually loved me, I don’t believe it. I can’t- even if I want to…” you let out a sad laugh. “Because I know who you are- I know what we had was real. And I think- I know it’s worth trying again.”

A quick flash of pain and anxiety tore through you, hollowing your chest, “And yeah, maybe I’m stupid for being overly optimistic or letting myself be vulnerable with you. But I’m… I’m willing to risk getting hurt all over again.”

Bucky stood stone still, rooted in place. This was all he’d ever wanted. But now that he had it, he feared the thing his heart desired most. What if he fucked up again? What if he hurt you again? What if he squandered his second chance?

“Are you…” Bucky took a deep breath, “are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Because you’re the only person I’ll ever want, Buck. Because I love you.”

Bucky never thought he’d hear those words again. And before he knew it, he was on the ground in front of you. He sunk to his knees, incapable of standing any longer. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His tears dampened your skin as he let his head fall against your thighs. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as he possible could. He feared you’d change your mind, that you’d take back everything you said. And if you did, he at least wanted to know that he held you. That he touched you one last time.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry- you have no idea how sorry I am”, he said between sharp breaths. “I’m gonna make it up to you. I’m gonna make it all up to you, okay? I promise. I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you, that I’d rather die than lose you again. And I’m-”

“Okay, hey… let’s relax a bit.” You met him on the floor and pulled his head against your chest. You ran a hand along his back, soothing him. His shaky breaths were so sharp, so ragged, that they seemed almost painful. “Breathe, Buck. I love you, okay? And I know you love me- I know. You don’t have to prove it.”

Bucky tried to deliver a rebuttal, but you wouldn’t allow it.

“Hey- it’s okay. We’re okay.” You tangled your fingers in his hair, eliciting a deep sigh from his chest. “We’re both tired. And emotional. Let’s just go to sleep, okay? It’s the middle of the night- we can talk things through in the morning.” You gently pulled his head from your chest and swiped the tears from his cheeks. Touching him again, holding him, provided the salve you needed. The wound in your chest started healing. The pain ceased. And for the first time in almost a year, you felt whole.

Your hands found Bucky’s and pulled him up right. With a gentle tug, you led him in the direction of your room.

“Come on,” you said, “let’s go to bed, baby.”

--------------------------------------

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

Family Affair

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, violence, humiliation, biting, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your sister surprises you with good news but you find it difficult to be happy for her. (older, short reader)

Character: Curtis Everett

Note: Happy Curtmas.

For @the-slumberparty Naughty or Nice Challenge.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Chatter buzzes from the front room as you brace the wall and lift your foot to unzip your wedge boot. You’re late and the guests are already in the throes of their celebration. You wiggle off both boots and set them amid the clutter of many. As you stand straight and gather up your gift bags and purse, you’re met with an unexpected sight.

You lift a brow, slightly confused by the unfamiliar man. He’s tall, his hair is cut short, and dark stubble adds definition to his well-formed jaw. His eyes are a bold shade of aquamarine but are glossed over with an almost indifferent gleam. He doesn’t say a word as your eyes meet and he just as quickly turns into the front room, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans.

It’s been a few years. You’re sure a lot has changed. You head down the hall, past the broad archway of the front room, and into the kitchen. As usual, your mother is there, readying another tray of finger foods.

She looks up from her intent work and gives a wide smile, “you’re here!” She chimes, “I was half-waiting for a call saying you wouldn’t make it.”

Her arrow hits the bullseye of your guilt. You haven’t been the most reliable. You can make excuses; the divorce, work, depression. None of that can assuage her.

“Sorry, mom,” you go to put the gift bags down and she stops you with a tut.

“Ah, ah, you go add those to the pile and say hello,” she demands, “you’re not hiding in here.”

You look at her, almost desperate. You love her but sometimes you wonder if that feeling is mutual. As much as she’s right, you hoped she might have some empathy. She’s been through a turbulent split, she’s had to start again, but she expects you to do it flawlessly. As she has anything else.

“Love you, mom,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Love you too, hon,” she goes back to arrange the spiral of cocktail weenies, “make sure you say hello to your sister. She’s so excited to see you.”

You nod and a real smile breaks through. That was the one light at the end of the tunnel. Your baby sister was always your favourite. Despite nearly two decades between you, she’s your best friend. In a way, you feel like a second mother, taking pride in her like you would a child of your own.

The front room is filled to the brim. Aunt Geri and Uncle Val sit on a sofa with their son, Miko. A cluster of similarly aged cousins stand at the edge of the couch chatting. Aunt Maureen argues with Aunt Kaya, and the latter’s husband stands by the window with a glass in hand and his mind a million miles away.

You always found yourself out of place at these things. When you were a child, you were the youngest one in the room. Too immature to understand the dialogue of your elders. As you got older, the other cousins came along and were too young for your angsty teenage self. Now, you’re caught in the desert between the eras; the retirees complain too much and the coeds talk too loud.

You peer around. A set of broad shoulders draws your eye in the corner of the room. It’s that same man you saw before. He has his back to you as he maintains a casual posture. As he leans on one leg, you see your sister, Adeline, gabbing to him. Oh, he must be with her…

As you drop your gifts under the tree, you mull the revelation. You suppose the assumption wasn’t obvious. At first glance, he’s older than her, or maybe he just looks it. She’s still a sophomore in college but you suppose that makes even more sense. These are the years she gets to figure it all out.

You face the room and stop as Aunt Maureen latches onto your arm, blindsiding you with Kaya as they close in like hyenas.

“There she is,” Maureen slurs.

“Not too good for us after all, huh?” Kaya challenges.

“What? No, uh, Merry Christmas–”

“Where’s Benny?” Maureen interrupts. You blanch, nearly choking on your tongue. The mention of your ex-husband has you breathless.

“Maur,” Kaya hisses, “remember…”

“Probably with his new girlfriend,” you say tersely.

“Oh my,” Maureen lets you go and slaps her forehead, “I’m so sorry. The wine…”

“It’s… okay,” you shrug. “Not talking about it won’t undo it.”

“He was such a charming man,” Maureen hums mournfully. You blink at her.

“His loss,” Kaya pats your arm gently, trying to clean up her sister’s mess. You know they all think the same. You had a good thing and you blew it. Even if you told them he fucked his co-worker, you’d be the one who threw it all away.

“Pity you never got a kid outta him,” Maureen sighs.

“Really, divorce has been final for a year, I’m good,” you insist and shuffle past them, “I’m going to make the rounds.”

“Don’t forget to have some wine,” Maureen calls after you, “takes the edge off disappointment, you know?”

You growl and shake your head as you stalk away. You wave hello to your other aunt and uncle, hoping to avoid a similarly humiliating encounter, and weave through the sea of guffawing cousins. You come out on the other side as Adeline beams up at her guest.

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and her face lights up. She bounces in place and throws her arms out. She rushes past the man and has you wrapped up in a hug. It’s kind of ridiculous how much taller she is. You’re supposed to be the bigger sister.

“You’re here!” She rocks you in her embrace, “eek! I’m so excited.”

You croak out a breath as she squeezes the air out of you. She releases you with a giggle, apologising as she steps back. She wears a long tulle skirt and a beaded sweater. She’s beautiful. You could never pull something like that off, even twenty years ago.

“Oh, oh, you have to meet Curtis,” she snatches your hand and tugs you over the tall man as he turns to face you. Those same vague eyes fall upon you, “Curtis, this is my sister!”

“Curtis,” you repeat, “it’s nice to meet you.”

You look between them with a brittle smile. He offers his hand as he returns the sentiment. You shake, his palm rough and calloused. Adeline vibrates with joy.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says.

“And I’ve heard nothing about you,” you grin at Adeline, “Addy?”

“I’m sorry,” she cups her cheeks guiltily, a sparkle on her ring finger. Your heart drops. “I didn’t know how to– the divorce and–”

“Ad,” you wisp and nearly sway on your feet, “what is that?”

You point to her hand and she quickly swipes it away, hiding it behind her back. “Nothing,” she gulps, the same way she did when she was a child and you caught her playing with your makeup.

There’s a tense silence as you gape in shock. Your mouth hangs open as you search for the words. Your eyes tinge with hot tears but you swallow them back.

“Congratulations,” you draw her into a hug, “really, I’m happy for you.”

She hugs you back, gentler than before. As you part, she looks nervous. Curtis clears his throat.

“Both of you,” you offer him a fragile smile. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little… shocked. Does mom know?”

Adeline nods as she clasps her hands together. You take a breath, and calm yourself. It’s not anything that she fears, you’re not jealous. You’re nervous, you’re afraid for her. It’s a big thing and she’s so young.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around to share the good news,” you say, “I’d love to help, if I can?”

“We got it,” Curtis insists.

“Oh,” you wince, “I didn’t mean– I could help with the planning or the engagement part–”

“We’re eloping,” he crosses his arms, “we’re not wedding people. Whole lot of money and fanfare for nothing.”

You nod, holding back your surprise as best you can. Nothing? It’s marriage. Even if they don’t want a big ceremony, it means something.

“I could help pay for the trip–”

“I got it,” he enunciates each word as he sidles over to sling his arm around your sister’s back. She looks away meekly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. She’s my sister, I just want to–”

“If you wanted to help, you would’ve been around the last two years,” he interjects.

Adeline’s head snaps around as she gives him a look. She nudges him with her elbow and whispers his name. He glares at you as you wilt. You’re not sure what you’ve done or said.

“Well, I think maybe me and Addy can talk about that,” you look at your sister, “when you have a chance, of course. I don’t want to spoil the holiday.”

“Adeline,” he corrects you, “Addy is so juvenile.”

The benefit of the doubt splinters as his tone cuts through you. You bite your tongue. Perhaps a twenty-one year old is juvenile to someone his age. You’ll talk to Addy about that too.

“Adeline,” you force a smile, “I… I’m going to go check on mom.” You show a palm in deference as you excuse yourself, “we’ll catch up later.”

As you back away, your eyes meet Curtis’. He watches you with a scowl. You are taken completely off balance. How could she end up with someone like him? She’s so sweet and he’s so scary…

Maybe she’s afraid too.

🎄

Christmas Eve ends much the same as you remember. The elders sit around the dining table to play cards as the kids, now adults, disperse in the living room or outside to entertain themselves. There’s a vague stench near the front door that no one will comment on but everyone knows what it is as it wafts in from outside.

You find yourself in limbo, once more caught in the in-between. You hole up in the kitchen, staring at the kettle as you wait for it to tremble. You won’t be missed if you take a tea up to your assigned room without a good night.

You lean on the counter and sigh, your finger brushing over the brim of the white porcelain cup with the hen on it. Strange how your mother’s house never seems to change but your life is inextricably altered. Your melancholy dims the cheery decor around you as you wallow away from the voices of the merry.

“There you are,” Adeline startles you as she sweeps in, “oh, is there any of the hot choccy left?”

You smile at her question. Everything about her reminds you of the time passed, of her newfound adulthood, yet she’s just the same little girl you always knew. You turn and pull the tin forward, “one packet left, just for you.”

You pull it out and face her again. She pulls out a mug from the cupboard and sets it down. The kettle hums between you as it heats up.

She exhales as you linger in a tense silence. You both have so much to say but neither of you know where to start. She finds her words first. Despite being younger, she was always the more outspoken.

“Do you like him?” She asks.

You poke your tongue into your cheek, “well, I’ve barely spoken to him. He seems to like you though.”

Her cheeks bulb as she grins bashfully, “I love him.”

Your chest seizes as you recognize that glimmer in her eye. She’s genuine, she feels that love so deeply it consumes her. It’s a naive love but real nonetheless. The sort you can’t see for what it is until it turns sour.

“I can tell,” you reach forward to fix the bow on her headband, “I’m happy for you. And my offer still stands. Maybe if it’s not the wedding, a honeymoon, or help with a house…” you wet your lips and steady your voice, “I only want you to be happy, Addy– Adeline.”

“Oh, he’s just… he’s like that. I can’t even call him Curt. He balances me out,” she beams.

“Yeah,” you say noncommittally.

“What?” Her voice dampens.

“Nothing,” you distract yourself with the variety of tea bags in the wooden chest next to the breadbox, “it’s… a lot. I’m surprised, is all. I just hope it goes well.”

She sniffs and lets her breath out long and heavy, “I’m sorry, I knew– he kinda said you’d probably be upset. After Benny–”

“This has nothing to do with him,” you narrow your eyes at her, a bag of chai in your hand, “this is about you. I only want what’s best for you.”

“He’s so good to me, you don’t have to worry.”

“I can worry, you’re my baby sister,” you insist, “and…” You shake your head, refusing to let the thought escape.

“And what?” She challenges, her pitch squeaking.

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me. I can always tell when you’re dying to say something. What?”

You shrug, “it’s just… how old is he?”

She scoffs, “wow.”

“What? I’m just asking.”

“It’s not like he’s old enough to be dad,” she pouts and crosses her arms.

“I know, I didn’t mean– Ad–Adeline, I just— you have time to figure it out. So I hope you’re not rushing this.”

“I’m not,” she snips, an uncharacteristic edge in her voice.

“I believe you… but what about him?”

She’s quiet as the kettle clicks, signalling the boiling point. You turn and drop the tea bag into your cup and pour the water. She tears open the packet and empties it into her own mug.

“Sorry,” you utter, “forget it. I… I don’t know him so maybe I need to get to know him. I’m here, Ad, and I will always be here for you.”

She nods and reaches for the kettle, not looking at you.

“Really, I trust you. I just worry about you,” you clap your hand on her shoulder, “you’re my lil teddy bear.”

She chuckles and looks down at you, your statement made absurd by the difference in your heights.

“And you’re the big grizzly, scaring off the wolves,” she kids back.

“Adeline,” the deep rumble thunders in ahead of the man, making both of you jump. You pull back your hand as Curtis strides in, “hey, I’ve been waiting on you.”

“Oh, sorry, baby,” she preens at him, “I was just–”

“You said we’d call my family after dinner,” he interrupts.

“I forgot,” she squeals, “oh, I’m so sorry.” She glances over at you, “I did promise.”

“Go on,” you try to smile but you’re not sure it’s showing.

She spins and flits over to Curtis. His eyes meet yours over her shoulder. His brows arch as his jaw is set in stone. A chill runs up your spine at the ice in his dark pupils. He grabs Adeline’s hand and drags her out.

You’re left in silence. You look over at the unmixed powder floating in the steaming water. You chew your lip as you stare at it. It’s just hot chocolate but there’s something about her abandoning something she loves so much for him. You try not to let your own failed marriage echo over her relationship, but it just feels off.

Well, Benny always did say you never did handle change very well.

🎄

The night before Christmas is rarely a restful one. Even without the childish belief in Saint Nick, you find yourself awake, anxious but not for presents. You keep replaying the night through your head; not the awkward interactions with aunts and uncles, or the silent judgment from the younger crowd, but Adeline and Curtis. Let it go, it’s none of your business.

You huff and roll on your back. Sleep eludes you. You sit up and bend over the side of the bed. You hold your head. You’ll sneak out the bathroom and hopefully an empty bladder will help.

You drag your feet across the floor, the legs of your pajama pants too long and trailing down your feet. You open the door and yawn as you enter the hall, only to collide with another unexpected barrier. Before you can react, you’re being forced back into the guestroom, stumbling as your fingers claw at the door frame and slip off.

A hand smothers your mouth, rough against your lips, as a foot kicks the door shut with a sharp click. You murmur into the calloused flesh as an arm loops around your back, trapping you as you’re urged further into the dark. You grasp at the cotton clinging to muscular shoulder. You’re kept off balance by your attacker’s certainty.

“I fucking heard you,” Curtis’ silty grit seeps into your ears, “you think I’d hurt her?” He snarls as he stops you at the foot of the bed. His shadow looms over you, breath puffing from his nostrils as he growls like a beast, “I wouldn’t, but I’ll hurt you.”

He pushes you back so your legs meet the side of the bed. You teeter and clasp your hand around his wrist, squeaking as he easily takes you down onto the mattress. He pins you, your legs hanging off the end, kicking weakly as his other hand curves around your throat.

He bends over you, straddling your chest heavily. You can’t breathe. Your heart pounds until your ears throb. Your temples pulse violently and your throat dries to a sandy scrape.

“Stay out of my fucking business,” he snarls, sliding down your body.

You whimper into his hand as he drops his knees off the bed, holding himself over you. He squeezes your neck, choking out your voice as he drags his hand from your mouth. He feels along your chest and flicks open the top button of your shirt. Your eyes wet in horror.

“Fucking show you…” he sneers as his breath scours over your flesh.

Another button undone as his lips tick along your shoulder. You squeak once more as he sinks his teeth into your flesh, biting a mean pinch until you spasm. The pain is unbearable. You feel the skin break as the hot flow of blood mingles with his spit.

He detaches only to bite you again. You can’t make a noise as his grip grows tighter on your neck. Even if you could scream, you’re too terrified and confused to understand what he’s doing. He’s like an animal tearing you apart.

He lays a tortured path down your chest, lingering on the rise of flesh, gnawing into the tenderness there. His nails dig into your side, pushing up your shirt as he scratches hot lines into your skin. You push on his shoulders desperately but he’s too strong.

“Stop filling her head with your bitterness,” he growls before he bites into your nipple.

You shake and beat on his head, shoulders, and back. You writhe and wrestle, trying to free yourself from him. He continues on, down your stomach, lingering on the soft flesh as his fingers hook into the elastic of your pants.

Your panic overflows with your tears. This can’t be happening. Why would he do this? He could talk to you? You would listen. You didn’t say anything wrong, you just want Adeline to be careful.

The very thought of your sister throttles you. Does he do this to her? Is this why she’s so defensive? The idea makes you sick to your stomach.

He lifts himself, his weight centering on your neck. You think he’ll crush your windpipe as he looms over you, snarling in the blackness. He pushes you higher onto the bed, forcing your legs open with his knees.

“Don’t make a fucking noise or I’ll make sure you can’t,” he threatens, giving a last squeeze before slowly slackening his grip.

You hold your breath. You believe him. Your body goes limp and you close your eyes. The bed shifts as he sits back on his heels. He pulls your pants down your thighs and you whine. He hushes you, a harsh tap across your cheek to get his point across.

You let your head drift to one side as you clench the blanket beneath you in tight fists. He keeps your legs trapped in your pants, knees bent as the fabric strains across his stomach. He tilts and movies around, his fingernails scratching the back of your thighs.

“Bet the husband couldn’t stand your fucking mouth,” he snarls as he pushes roughly against your cunt. “Didn’t know how to train you.” He jams two fingers into you, jolting your entire body, “dry bitch like you, he was probably thirsty as fuck.”

You seal your eyes tight, tears trickling through as a sob bubbles in your throat. You want to tell him to stop. You want to ask why. You want to scream. You can’t do anything as your body locks up.

He fingers you meanly, pulling his fingers out only to ram them in again, each time his knuckles hit you painfully. He keeps it up, growling with each intrusion as your muscles knots and pathetic noises rise from your throat.

He forces your legs higher, tearing his hand away from your pelvis. He adjusts his knees and you feel something else against your cunt.

“No…” you whisper right as he ruts into you.

He splits you apart around him. You let out a holler and he quickly silences you with a crack of his knuckles. The back of his hand snaps off your cheek and turns your head to the other side. You gulp and sob, choking back any noise that threatens to bubble over.

He holds himself as deep as he can. He puts his large hands on your shoulders and pins you flat. He bucks, agony rippling up your spine. He snaps his hips, again and again, each time harder than the last.

“This is what you need. So fucking jealous, aren’t you? Dried up old bitch,” he pumps into you as his breath picks up, “why kind of sister are you, huh? Fucking your baby sister’s man. Fucking slut.”

You cover your face and heave. You’re drowned in pain and humiliation. You’re disgusted with him for doing this to you; and yourself for letting him.

“You don’t wanna hurt her, do you?” He growls, “that’s why this is happening… cause you wanna keep her safe, right?”

He puts his hand against your head and pushes it down into the bed, fucking you into the mattress. The frame pounds the wall, matching his furious rhythm. You reach to brace his thick arm, begging silently for it to end.

“Oh, it’ll be over soon,” he rasps as his hand once more frames your throat, “fuck, you got me ready to blow quicker than I thought.” He puffs, each thrust rattling your bones, “I love how weak you are.”

#curtis everett #dark curtis everett #dark!curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #one shot #snowpiercer #au #christmas #naught or nice

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aziraphales-library · 27 days

Note

Hi there!

I was wondering if you had any recommendations of fics that have Aziraphale as a priest? i’m in search of some but have no idea how to find them.

only ask is that it’s 3k words and up!

Thanks so much for all you do, you are truly the foundation holding the fanfiction side of Good Omens together!

lots of love x

Hello! We have #priest Aziraphale & #priests au tags. And of course there is the priest Aziraphale tag on AO3. Here are more to add to our collection...

All The Lights That Light The Way by FeralTuxedo (E)

On the run from a disastrous work Christmas party, Anthony Crowley encounters an angel singing in the streets of Soho.

& Forgive Us Our Trespasses (Of Which The First Is Love) by ineffable_angle (M)

Fleabag-inspired AU where anthropologist Dr. Anthony J Crowley becomes friends (and then definitely more) with the hot priest Father Aziraphale Moore. They meet at their high school reunion and discover that they just can't quite stay away from one another. Mainly, they debate evolution, go to brunch, and overcome Anthony's religious trauma. Some scenes and dialogue from season 2 of Fleabag do show up, but the plot is not the exact same.

The scent of incense on his fingers by gimmewhiskey (E)

Crowley knew what was twirling on Aziraphale's tongue. “Don't even think about saying you forgive me," he whispered, then turned and strode quickly to the door. Aziraphale stared after him for a few moments longer. He slowly raised his hand and touched his lips. There was a scent of incense on his fingers. ...Or the story of how a successful lawyer Anthony J. Crowley successfully pretends to forget his old love while Father Aziraphale atones for sins for them both.

(Let's) Do it again by gagna_onni (M)

Father Fell has lived his whole life in a small town in Wales. His life is simple, the community is kind and welcoming and he does all he can to help everyone. One day a guest arrives at his clergy house. And right after his arrival, things start to change in an unexpected way.

in your own time by ineffabildaddy (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley grew up together as next-door neighbours on Hogback Lane, classmates at the local Catholic school, and inseparable best friends. By the age of eighteen, both were hopelessly in love with the other, despite the knowledge that they were doomed to live apart, as Crowley aimed to pursue university study in London and Aziraphale committed himself to remaining in Tadfield, dedicating his life to the Church. After almost twenty years spent away from his hometown, renowned botanist Crowley decides to come and visit Tadfield again at a moment's notice; the purpose of his visit is to speak at a Careers Day for the school he and Aziraphale, now a beloved priest and a frequent helper at the school, attended. The twenty-four hours that follow will change both of their lives for ever.

Faith, Hope, and Love (And the Greatest of These Is Love) by khh1961 (E)

A young Father Aziraphale Fell takes up his first post as a junior priest, under the stern supervision of Monsignor Gabriel (who very much likes things to run his way, thank you kindly) and meets fellow parish priest, Father Anthony Crowley. Our young Father Fell is immediately captivated by Father Crowley's handsome face, ginger hair, and dead sexy Scottish accent. This looks to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. But what else it may become remains to be seen. Love and the will of God are both ineffable.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #human au #priest aziraphale #priests au #adult omens #mod d

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stevenssacrab · 6 months

Text

Collision

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: On a routine bike ride through your local park, you meet a beautiful stranger in unique way.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Mentions of blood, and wound care, descriptions of a bike accident

Word Count: 1.0k

a/n: Just a lil short and sweet one, with the ever beautiful Natasha :D

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

The cool autumn air gently nips at your skin, your cheeks round and rosy pink; you always loved a good evening bike ride around your local park; you first started it as a way to get the daily exercise, but you've grown to love the repetitive motion of pushing the petals, and the wind blowing past your face. Today was particularly beautiful; the sun was setting, a ray of crimson and amber painting the sky.

You like to use this time to unwind and think of nothing substantial, no deadlines, upcoming events, or obligations; be in the moment. As you round your 2nd lap around the park, you’re stuck on whether you should do another lap, while deep in thought, you don’t even see the person riding straight for you at an ungodly speed.

“Hey! Watch out!” A bystander yells, but it is already too late; time slows each second longer than the last as you come speeding toward this woman on her bike; there is no avoiding it; it is already happening. You collided with a painful crack, sending you flying over, landing hard on your shoulder, and tumbling forward.

When you open your eyes, you're greeted by a gorgeous woman, her face etched with worry. Her mouth is moving, but you can't hear anything she's saying. You're lost in her eyes, a beautiful mix of blueish green with flicks of amber; she slowly waves her hand in front of your face, snapping back into reality.

"Hello? Are you okay? I'm so sorry I didn't see you until it was too late." she said, her eyes scanning you for injuries, her face dropping when she saw blood coming from your forehead. "Oh my god, I have a first aid kit in my car; I'll be right back," she said quickly; you watched her run away and disappear momentarily behind the trees; you were inspecting the damage when you heard footsteps running toward you. Your eyes scan over her physique; you definitely overlooked that before.

"Okay, let me take a look," she said smoothly, setting the kit down next to you; she cracked open a water bottle and grabbed your hand; she softly put the water bottle into your hand.

"Here, take this," she says while grabbing a packet of ibuprofen; handing you the tablet, she patiently waits for you to do as instructed; you stare at her, mouth agape, "please," she says, gently motioning at the medication, you obey and swallow the pill, you're staring at her, thoroughly aware that you still haven't spoken a word.

"Th-thank you," you say meekly; you look at the palms of your hands.

"You're welcome," she chirps happily, "Let me take a look," she says, cracking open another water bottle; she pours it onto a towel and gently pats your forehead clean.

"So, what's your name?" she asks, focused on your wound.

"Y/N," you say gingerly, using the opportunity to take in every detail of her face, noticing the 2 moles on her cheek.

"You know it's rude to stare?" she quips, never breaking her focus.

"I-I'm not staring; you're just, in front of me is all." you defended

"Uh-huh, sure," she says cockily, flicking her eyes down to meet yours, you try to hold contact, but when she looks at you, you feel as if she's staring right into your soul.

"So, what do you do?" she asks, trying to fill the silence.

"I'm a firefighter," you say proudly.

"Oh, well, that's unexpected," she says, searching for the Neosporin, "how is a firefighter so clumsy?" she teases, her lips coming to a smirk.

"Clumsy? I'm pretty sure you ran into me," you laugh back.

"Why don't you let me make it up to you over coffee?" she says slyly, her eyes snapping to your lips and then back to your eyes.

"Hmm, I suppose," you tease back as you grab the Neosporin from the kit, handing it to her; she generously applies it, eyes watching your face for any hints of pain.

"Do you live around the area?" she asks, firming her hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah, like a 5-minute bike ride from here," you say; you're usually not this open with your personal information, but something about her, you know she's one of the good ones; she grabs a large bandaid and cautiously covers the wound.

"There you go, all better." She leaned back and started putting all the supplies away.

"Oh, let me help you," you say, suddenly moving to help, you knock over the entire box.

"I'm sorry, let me help you," you say; you kneel down and frantically clean up the mess.

"Y/N, relax," she says calmly; she kneels down and helps you clean up.

"Not clumsy, huh?" she says coyly, lifting her brow slightly.

"I'm not. I'm just nervous," you laugh, nervously staring at the ground.

"Do I make you nervous, Y/N?" she questions, slowly closing the space between you, inching closer like an apex predator. You don't know what else to do; you are reduced to a stuttering mess, slowly getting pushed into a nearby tree.

"I-No, I just-" you stutter out; you bump into the tree, suddenly aware of how close she is; you stare at her, eyes as wide as saucers.

"Shhh, it's alright, Y/N," she shushes, gently grabbing your hand; you jump at the sudden contact but instantly melt into her touch.

"Let's get you home, yeah?" she asks sweetly.

"Okay," you say simply, leading her out of the park.

"I'm Natasha, by the way," she says, bringing attention to the fact that you hadn't even asked what her name was; you smack your palm to your forehead, shame engulfing you; how did you forget to ask for her name?

"I'm so sorry, I didn't even ask your name, ugh," you sighed heavily, hitting your face with your hands.

"It's okay," she laughs, breaking any tension you had left in you. "I mean, I did crash into you, and you did land pretty hard," she says gently, thumbing over your knuckles.

"Thank you for taking care of me," you say shyly, avoiding eye contact, "Well, this is me," you say; you let go of her hand and reach for your keys; you do it slowly; you don't want this to end.

"I'll see you this weekend, right, for that coffee?" she asks, patiently awaiting your answer.

"Yes, definitely."

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cauliplea · 3 months

Text

DR. RATIO X GN! READER

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───SMUT── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────

Tutoring Session Gone Wrong...?!

Tags: P*rn With Plot, Video Calling, Masterbating, Tutoring.

☆──────────────────────☆

Being Veritas Ratio's partner came with perks, one of which was that he'd tutor you eagerly any time you asked, which could also be a downside on its own.

When he tutored you, your relationship would disappear; the time spent in his study during a tutoring session would just be a purely professional relationship.

However, this time was an exception.

After realizing just how much you were struggling with math in general, you decided to text your boyfriend for any kind of help. Unfortunately, he was too busy for you to go over to his study and talk in person, but you two decided it could be done over the phone anyway.

While you were preparing your essentials and mentality (thanks to Ratio's tendency to be a bit condescending during his teachings). You abruptly received a message from the man. It was rare to recieve a message from him in general, but before a call?

Ratio wasn't the type to text; he preferred face-to-face communication... without the communication. Another ding came from your phone, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you scramble for your phone.

"Would you be comfortable with a pleasant surprise?"

"Hello?"

He was an impatient person, which was obvious from his sending another message because you didn't answer in a minute. You raised your brow at the message's mystery but still sent a quick 'sure' as a reply because, how bad could it be? After replying, you positioned your phone at an angle that'd show both you and your notebook and started waiting.

Ratio was taking his time, for sure. For someone who was extremely punctual, this was unexpected. It's already been a couple minutes since he left you on read, and there wasn't any other sign from him.

Letting out a dejected and overexaggerated sigh, you sank in your seat, fingers tapping the armrest boredly, until Ratio's contact name lit up on your phone and it started playing your ringtone. After quickly reaching out and accepting the call, you leaned back in your chair, waiting to see Ratio's face.

You saw his face for a brief second before he positioned the camera to only show his desk, essentials, and... his waist? It was a surprising but welcome angle. After managing to settle his camera, a soft sigh could be heard as he started talking.

"Excuse my punctuality."

You opened your mouth to reply, only to be cut off by a Ratio. "I was busy setting up everything for our session; however, I did leave this for last."

He spoke mysteriously before you saw his hand move to the belt of his pants, unbuckling it with ease and throwing it to the side, making you shocked by the sudden revelation.

However, you didn't mind. I mean, if you did, why would you even be reading this fanfic? You were intrigued by the sudden change of events as a dust of pink appeared on your cheek while you watched Ratio pull down his zipper and take his half-hard cock out of his underwear.

"Reader.." He cleared his throat, as if to direct your attention back to the tests in front of him rather than his erection, which was resting in his hand. "Focus now, will you?"

You could see him shift in his chair as he tapped the test with the back of his pen, talking with his stoic voice as he always did.

"For every question you get right, I'll give you a reward."

His voice became smug, and you knew if you could see his face, he'd be smirking.

It was a bit annoying how you couldn't gawk at your boyfriend's private parts as you were immediately forced to do math questions. At the fifth question, you heard some mumbling from him, making you look up from the questions.

"Good. You're doing surprisingly great." He grunted as he started moving his hand along his length while you could feel yourself reddening.

He slowed his hand down when he noticed you intensely staring at your screen. He grumbled, and his voice grew sharper than before. You could definitely feel his face heating up. "what? Stop staring and go back to your work."

Nodding while looking like a sopping wet cat, you went back to doing the stupid math questions. However, you could still hear Ratio grunting and moaning in the background, and you could see his hand moving up and down his shaft from the corner of your eyes.

Around the ninth question, you suddenly heard him stop, making your eyes drift towards the phone screen again.

"You got it wrong." You blinked in confusion and looked back at your test to realize you actually got the question wrong. "Do it again."

You could feel the irritance in his voice as he waited for you to answer the question correctly. He refused to budge until you got it right. He was punishing you in a way, even though he was the one who was depraving the physical touch right now.

However, when you did get it right, he muttered a small 'good' and continued his previous movements just a bit faster than before. Oh, how much you wanted to look, watch him quiver under the touch of his own hand, and tease him over the call, but you knew he'd just hang up on you.

When you finally got to question fifteen, you put down your pencil with a sigh, finally freely being able to look at ratio playing with himself under the desk.

"Ngh.. You did good." He praised you breathlessly as he moved his hand faster than before, clearly getting off of this. How did it even get to this point? Is it because you said you wanted to spice up your relationship? because this was not what you meant.

But you still didn't mind it. watching Ratio mewl and cry out at the pace as his hips buckled into his hand, cum dripping down his tip while his free hand gripped the desk.

"..Reader..." He mumbled your name under his breath as he could feel himself getting closer to his end. His breath got caught in his throat, and he whimpered as he desperately moved his hand faster.

You watched him try his best to relieve himself, and you smirked when he did. He let out a loud grunt as he finally came, the liquid dripping down his hand to his thighs as he sat with his legs apart, trying to catch his breath.

He was surprisingly submissive and needy during intimacy; the sight of him whimpering and twitching after releasing was nothing but cute.

He cleared his throat again and sat up straight, raising his camera with his clean hand to show his flushed and breathless face. He looked into the lens with a dazed expression. "Lesson.. is over."

And with that, he closed the call, leaving you speechless.

☆──────────────────────☆

Cauliplea On Ao3.

#honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #dr. ratio #hsr dr ratio #veritas ratio

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katiexpunk · 2 months

Text

The Invited | Pairing Lucien Flores X Fem!Reader

Summary: Lucien Flores is invited back into your life in a very unexpected way, at a very bad time – what are you going to do about it?

Warnings: Borderline abusive, controlling relationship (not with Lucien). Like literally, we hate the reader’s fiancé. No, I’m serious, read this one with caution, there are heavy undertones of the reader’s fiancé being controlling and generally not a nice guy, no matter how much he tries to play the part. Implied infidelity. Heavy flirting, heavy tension. Religious undertones. Alcohol. References to Lucien being a playboy. References to wealth, art, and money. General Hollywood/California vibes. This one will have a happy ending. No use of daddy, no use of Y/N. This is gonna have some filthy fucking smut, hand to my heart.

Part 1 W/C: ~3.5K

A/N: Just, yeah…yep. I am as horny for him as you all are (like what the actual fuck). This story will continue as I learn more about Lucien and his character. P.S. Sorry if you got double-tagged, I accidentally deleted the whole fic so I had to repost.

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

It started with one look, as many things do.

Initially, it was all just innocent glances across a crowded room, perfunctory nods, and polite whispered hellos in shared spaces. It didn’t take long for it to turn into more than that; that’s just who he is and the effect he has. You can’t say you didn’t hear the rumors, heed the warnings through the grapevines of the limitless supply of women who came before you, but listening never was your strongest skill.

The only girls you know who listen are strapped to a church pew, on their knees, and for what? Salvation? At least you know the pleasure of worshiping at the altar of a man who promises he’ll make you see god, a man who follows through on his word, no questions or fuck-all commandments required.

Or at least you did.

Maroon 5 said it best, even the sun sets in paradise.

++++

As you stand by your bedroom window, the last rays of sunlight paint the room in a warm, golden hue, casting elongated shadows across the minimalist decor. The gentle breeze from the Santa Ana winds whispers through the trees outside, carrying with it a sense of anticipation – dread – for the night ahead. You hate these things, but schmoozing is part of the role you have to play, just one of the many rules he’s slowly but surely made sure you follow. The good girl he’s made you become.

Focusing on fastening the back of your earrings, you watch the sun dip below the horizon, a silent witness to the transition from day to night – light to dark – although things don’t feel that light these days.

"There she is," comes a familiar voice from behind you, causing you to turn and find him leaning casually against the door frame. His presence brings a sense of unease, a reminder of the doubts that linger beneath the surface.

A forced smile plays on his lips as his eyes trail over you, his gaze filled with a familiarity that feels suffocating rather than comforting. "You look beautiful," he murmurs, you wonder if he believes it or if he’s just saying it to say it.

Most of the time, his admiration feels hollow, a facade that fails to mask the cracks in your relationship. In his eyes, you see reflections of expectations and obligations, a reminder of the compromises you've made at the expense of your happiness. It wasn’t always this way, especially in not while you were just dating, but things quickly shifted once you said yes.

You turn your attention back to the vanity in front of you and slip one final detail – your engagement ring.

“Thanks. Ready?” You ask, feigning excitement as you glide across the room, wrapping your arm around his. You can tell from the way he looks at you that he has something to say, something to critique, but he remains silent.

You descend the steps in the grand foyer as it welcomes guests with its opulent charm, bathed in the soft, flickering light of countless candles. The air carries the delicate fragrance of freshly cut flowers, mingling with the subtle scent of expensive perfumes and cigars. The walls boast exquisite paintings and sculptures, each hand-picked, and sourced from all corners of the globe – a deliberate show of wealth.

As you step into the room, conversations swirl around you, punctuated by the clinking of champagne glasses and bursts of laughter. You observe the guests, their designer attire and dazzling jewelry all but scream like me, I’m rich. Among them, art connoisseurs and collectors engage in lively discussions about the latest exhibitions and acquisitions. Directors, models, and Hollywood elites mingle effortlessly, their conversations flowing freely.

You're well aware that in L.A., half of the business dealings often occur in the shadowy corners of closed-door meetings, or in the expanse of lavish parties like this. It’s a city where nepotism runs rampant and connections are king. It's a city where who you know can often be more important than what you know, and navigating the intricate web of relationships is a skill in itself.

Dressed in an elegant gown, silky and yellow, your neck frosted in diamonds that shimmer like the stars above, you glide through the crowd with a grace that contradicts your inner turmoil. You’re good at this part, faking it, blending in. You might have grown up with this, but you never really felt like you belonged. It’s sort of strange to be surrounded by a sea of people, all while feeling like you’re stranded alone on a remote island.

As you exchange polite pleasantries and forced smiles, a nagging doubt creeps into your mind. Are you even meant to fit in with this crowd? Lord knows you wouldn’t be if you had anything to say about it, but being the daughter of a politician is a special kind of hell. We all have to make sacrifices. And you have – a lifetime of them. Sometimes, you can't help but long for simpler pleasures – a quiet Saturday night with frozen pizza, a bottle of wine, and a comforting movie. Fuck, you can’t even remember the last time you went out with friends, drank too much tequila, and flirted in innocent fun, or the last time you dipped your hand below the waistband of your panties without the fear of being caught.

Sipping your champagne, you endure a rather tedious conversation between the CEO of a tech startup and a broker. It doesn’t take long for the sensation of boredom to settle in, mingling with a growing sense of disillusionment. A dull pain throbs in your feet from the pressure of your heels. Their voices start to fade into the distance as you zone out, feeling increasingly disconnected from the authenticity you crave.

You decide you need a break, some fresh air. They’re not even listening to you; you're not even sure if they notice you're here or not. But still, forever polite, you excuse yourself anyway and make your way across the room, weaving through the crowd of suits and couture. You’re not thinking about anything except getting the hell out of here until you hear your name called behind you.

It’s a voice you’d recognize anywhere, in any lifetime, in any place. You stop in your tracks and look over your shoulder.

“Hi,” he says.

What the fuck? You’re sure you must actually be drunk now, or so bored that you’re delusional brain is conjuring him up. You don’t say anything in return, you just stand there. The room slows around you, bodies pause mid-motion, and your world goes silent.

“Been a long time,” he casually says, lifting the glass to his lips, eyes intent on yours.

His words, the low rasp of them, snap you back to reality.

“Lucien – wha, what are you doing here?”

“I was invited.”

You barely hear his response. Fuck, he looks so good. Handsome as you remember him, all salt and pepper curls, dark facial hair, and broad shoulders. He’s clad in dark jeans, and a colorful silk shirt, the buttons at the top undone, giving just the slightest glimpse of his sun-kissed skin and the chains that rest there.

Arousal pools in your belly, thick and heavy, a feeling that you haven’t felt in years. Not since him.

"Invited, by who?" you ask, your voice laced with challenge. He takes a deliberate step closer, his presence enveloping you in a heady mix of desire and tension. The air around him is thick with the sticky-sweet smell of cigarettes and the woody notes of his cologne. He smells good.

He's close now, close enough to send a shiver down your spine. You tilt your head back to meet his gaze, feeling the heat of his breath against your skin. Shit, those brown eyes. Your pulse quickens as his large palm closes around the back of your left arm, the touch sending electric sparks through your body. It's a soft but firm grip, possessive and confident.

As he trails his palm down the length of your arm, you hold your breath. He stops once your hand is gently balanced in his, and you feel his fingers brush against the cool metal of your engagement ring. Glancing around the room for a brief moment to make sure nobody’s watching, he dunks his head, and whispers in your ear, his lips so close that you think he might kiss your neck.

“I think you already know the answer to that, sweetheart.”

What.

He places a soft, innocent kiss on your cheek as he retreats and takes a step back. You don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body, lingering for a moment too long on your collarbones. The muscles in his jaw tighten, and he gives you a polite nod, before stepping away, slipping into the crowd, leaving you woozy and confused.

What the fuck does that even mean?

As you internally grapple with what the hell just happened, your fiancé finds you in the crowd, possessively trails his hand along your waistline, and plants a wet, rather drunk, kiss on your lips.

“What did he want?” he asks, harshly.

“Nothing, just saying thanks for the invite,” you respond, hoping he can’t sense your lie. Hoping he falls for your trap.

“If you’re lying to me sweet pea, that’s gonna be a real problem.”

“I’m not.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“So why do you look so flustered, huh?”

“You know how I get when I drink champagne,” you retort, playing up your innocence.

“Right, well you better pull it together, can’t have my girl sloppy,” he warns, his voice a little slurry himself, his balance unsteady as he takes another sip. He’s moved on from champagne to whiskey. A bad combination, a dangerous one.

“You know the only reason I invited him tonight was that I think it’s an important lesson for you –”

You interrupt, “YOU invited him?”, your voice clear and stark. The truth hits you like a freight train. You want to cry, throw up and scream all at the same time.

“Of course. Listen, baby, I know you went through your slutty phase, but look how far you’ve come.. look how much I’ve helped you grow,” he slurs, “men like that, don’t deserve women like you.”

And there it is – the truth.

Your blood hits a boiling point. You give him a death glare, but he doesn’t seem to notice before he’s quickly moving on.

“Come on, baby.” I’m not your baby, not anymore, haven’t been for a long time.

“I’d like to introduce you to some people,” he says, grabbing a fresh glass off of the passed tray, and handing it to you with a little too much thrust, enough for a few drops of it to spill over onto the silk of your dress. Your fingers grip around it and you follow his lead, despite the bitterness you feel. Ugh. Why is it so easy for you to fall into line now? Secretly, you hope the dull burn of the alcohol will distract you – calm you – make you forget.

You’re drunk, aroused, mad, and confused, and on top of it all, you’re fading in and out of the dull conversation your fiancé has you engaged in, or rather than listening to. Not like he lets you get a word in, anyway. You scan the room looking for him whenever you get the chance, trying not to be too obvious. You finally spot him in the corner and try to ignore the magnetic pull that lassos around you once you do. He’s talking to a model, because of course he is. Is he intentionally trying to make you jealous? Or is he just being his usual fuck boy self?

You chug what must be your sixth glass of champagne to forget the bitter memory of the last time you saw him – when he told you that you should just keep things casual, that he couldn’t handle the pressure of being with the daughter of a politician, that he would never measure up, and that this was just temporary, just sex.

It wasn’t, and you know it. You know he knows it.

But fuck it –

If he wants to play games, you can play games. You’re the one who’s engaged, this is your house, your space. You’ll show him what he’s missing.

With that in mind, your personality shifts a bit, part in courtesy of the alcohol, part because of your rage. You do your best to intentionally play up your happiness in a room full of strangers, show him that he doesn’t affect you. Show him that he doesn’t matter, that he never did. You cling tight to the arm of your fiancé, being sure to pull out your best doe eyes, your innocent fuck me eyes that you know men can hardly resist. The eyes you know that drive him wild.

But there’s no point, he sees right through it.

Shit.

He knows you too well, better than all the rest. You let your guard down with him, trusted him, and now he knows all the signs – all the tells – he knows where your heart and mind truly rest, probably before you even do.

Shove it down. Shove it down. He doesn’t matter. You are engaged. This is the life you want.

It’s not.

You watch through the corner of your eye as he excuses himself from the conversation with the model and walks through the crowd, intentionally finding your eyes as he does. He slips up the stairs, away from public view.

Ignore him. Ignore him. Ignore him.

You can’t. You know you can’t.

Before you can even register what’s happening, you’re stepping out of the conversation you were never really in, letting your instincts guide you. You lift the hem of your dress, your heels teetering slightly as you make your way through the bustling, suffocating room.

Each step up the stairs is a battle between your mind and your heart, your brain screaming warnings while your emotions, your arousal, tug you forward. It’s always been this way – a magnetic pull, an invisible force drawing you in to him like a moth to a flame.

This is a mistake.

Don't do this.

Do this.

You want this.

You're engaged.

Stop thinking.

Climbing the final stairs, your heart pounding in your chest, you surrender to the emotions swirling inside you. Your brain protests, but your heart has already made its decision.

"Luci—" you timidly call out, but before you can finish, he reaches out in the darkness and pulls you into his chest. You let out a little oof of surprise, but soon find yourself settling into the embrace, his warmth enveloping you as his hips press tightly against yours.

He doesn't utter a word, simply holding you close, his body a comforting anchor in the dimly lit hallway. His hand rests at your waist, the other gently cradling the swell of your cheek as he gazes down at you. Despite the darkness obscuring your features, you can sense him drinking in every detail, every curve, the small details you’re not sure anyone notices anymore. He’s looking at you like he always has, like you’re the main character in every story he’s ever cared to read.

With a tighter grip, he guides you further down the hallway, away from the prying eyes at the top of the staircase. Your back eventually meets the cool surface of the wall, and he pauses there, his presence dominating the space, sucking up the air around you. His grip on your waist remains firm, as if he knows exactly what he wants and how to get it.

Under his touch, you feel yourself melting, surrendering to the intensity that is the two of you. There's a confidence in his demeanor, a certainty that courses through you. A live wire of energy that you’ve never felt with anyone but him. He knows exactly how to read you, how to anticipate your every desire, and you find yourself powerless to resist.

You’re suddenly acutely aware of the ring on your finger, and before you can protest, he’s already speaking.

“He’s not the man you think he is, sweetheart.” His words pierce you like a knife.

You don’t respond. What can you even say? He can already see your truth, your reality, written plainly across your face. He searches your face for hesitation, any sign that he’s crossed a line.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and you can only nod. Yes, please.

This isn’t normal, this isn’t a thing that people frequently experience – it’s wrong, you’re engaged. Even if your fiancé is a grade-A asshole, you can still maintain your morals.

But the thing is – there’s something so electric about the two of you together, an undeniable force, a promise written into stone long before you even realized it.

The combination of your bodies, two halves of a whole, is the only excuse you can muster for why you’ve found yourself in your current predicament – pressed up against a wall, his broad frame pinning you into place, the weight of his gaze like a flame threatening to swallow you whole, turn you into ashes.

Even though it’s been years since he’s pressed his lips against yours, the weight of the pretty little rock on your left finger fades into distant memory, and he pulls you back to a different reality.

A reality where nothing else exists, a reality where your timelines converge, a reality hand-sculpted just for the two of you. One where he didn’t fuck up, the one with the happily ever after.

With your lips connected, it’s easy to let your mind fall silent.

And when he breaks for a bit of breath, your eyes connect once more and you can’t help the thought that crosses your mind.

What a pleasure it is to burn.

His hand finds its way to your thigh, and his fingers make their way to where you so desperately need them to be. Nipping at your neck, he whispers sweet praises into your ear, each word sending sparks of arousal that dance along your skin. It's carnal, primal, an undeniable biological reaction that leaves you practically dripping for him.

"You know me, better than anybody," he rasps against your skin, his words a seductive promise of something more. Planting a soft kiss on your collarbone, he leaves you reeling with need.

But just as you're about to respond, the telltale sound of creaking wood and heavy footsteps echo up the stairs, accompanied by the call of your name. Panic floods your senses as you realize who it is.

Fuck, shit – no, god damn it.

Lucien quickly steps away from you, and sneaks off into the bedroom adjacent to the hall.

Your fiancé appears at the top of the steps, his gaze sharp and knowing, as if he can sense the tension in the air. In that moment, you know you can't keep hiding, can't keep pretending that everything is fine.

“What are you doing up here?”

Fuck it, be bold.

“We need to talk.”

TO BE CONTINUED

If you like this, please consider a reblog (dm me if you want to be removed): @endlessthxxghts @theoasisofthings @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @syd-djarin @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @morallyinept @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @auteurdelabre @morgaussy @yxtkiwiyxt ily.

#lucien flores #lucien flores smut #lucien flores fic #the uninvited #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #pedrohub #pedro stories #pedro pascal characters #lucien x reader

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pablitogavii · 8 months

Note

Omggg can you please make a story about how Gavi is jealous of João Felix because he was flirting with reader? Like and it turn into a smut?

Thankssss

Mine!

What a victory for Barça against Betis!! You were on the stand with Aurora and Mikky cheering for your man who was celebrating with his teammates at the moment as the last whistle signaled the end of the match.

"Qué victoria hermanita!!" Aurora cheered hugging you tightly and you giggled nodding your head excited to meet your man and properly congratulate him.

"Ready to go girls??" Mikky asked and both of us grabbed "the family pass" before moving towards the back hallways.

When the players were visible you blushed seeing Pablo was already shirtless his defined abs and back muscles making you weak and shy...you really couldn't wait for the "proper" celebration at home ;))

"Pablo!" you called and he immediately looked in your direction running towards you and scooping you in his arms.

"Congratulations amor!" you say as he raised you off the ground twirling you around ensuring to hold your dress so it doesn't rise up. It was apart of you only he was allowed to see!

"Gracias princesa! You brought us luck tonight!" he finally put you down kissing your lips sweetly and then kissed both your cheeks and nose as you blushed bright red. When he went to hug his sister, some other players walked up to you to say 'hello' since they all knew you after Pablo introduced you as his girlfriend a few months ago.

"Hello Y/n. How are you?" Lewandowski asked politely with his wife at his side greeting me with a bright smile. You really liked how welcoming everyone was when you joined this "new family".

"I'm good, thanks! Congratulations on the goal!" you say and he smiled nodding his head. Just in that moment, Joao Felix walked by smiling at you and you smiled back politely. You didn't think much on it but Pablo watching the interaction from the corner of his eye was internally freaking out. Why the hell were you smiling at him!?

"También te felicito Joao. ¡Qué golazo!" you smile and he thanks you but was shortly interrupted by angry Pablo snaking his hand around your waist and pulling you against himself rather roughly and you winced.

"Que buen juego, eh hermano?" Joao asked Gavi whose jaw was clenching and his hold became almost painful. You will surely have bruises on your hips tomorrow but you were getting kind of turned on by his sudden roughness.

"Es normal en el Barça." was all he said before pulling you towards the secluded family room and you got worried what was going on since he was obviously agitated and after a win which was unexpected.

"Que pasa amor??" you ask trying to touch his face but he pulls away clenching his jaw some more while pacing inside the room angrily.

"Maybe I can ask him to give you his jersey huh!?" Pablo spat and you were furrowing your eyebrows at him very much confused with the whole situation. What's gotten into him all of the sudden!?

"Who?" you asked genuinely curious but Pablo yelled in response thinking you were playing dumb with him right now.

"Joao Felix! Maybe you would rather wear his name on your back than mine!?" he said and you walked closer this time he let you touch his face while looking up at him with innocent eyes.

"Yours is the only name I want to wear on my back amor..please, don't act all jealous" you say thinking that would reassure him but it only made him more angry as he pulled away.

"Me? Jealous!? No way! You can let him fuck you for all I care!" he let those poisonous word leave him mouth before he thought about them and you gulped heavily now getting angry yourself. Who did he think he was to talk to you this way!?

"You're just salty he scored a goal and you didn't! You're a jealous cabrón Pablo!" you yelled back now hating yourself for seeing his eyes water as well as he left the room in a rush. You rolled your eyes thinking why the hell this had to happen after such an amazing evening and a beautiful win!? Ugh stupid boys!

Aurora gave you a ride back to the apartment you shared with Pablo not asking any questions why you two didn't leave together like always.

"If you need something, let me know!" she said after dropping you off and you thanked her entering the building annoyed and also a bit sad. You were wondering what Pablo was doing right now.

Pablo went out with his friends who wanted to celebrated but he was in no mood sitting by the bar and just staring at his phone screen. There was a picture of the two of you kissing on the beach and he wished he was by your side instead of here so badly.

"Por qué no vienes a celebrar con nosotros hermano?" Joao noticed Pablo's sour mood walking up to im and bringing him out of his thoughts. Ugh he just wished the boy would leave him alone tonight!

"Porque no quiero estar aquí ¿¡vale!?" Pablo spat and Joao sat down looking at the picture on Pablo's phone screen.

"Why are you not home with her then huh?" he asked and Pablo locked his phone not wanting him to look at the picture but he was asking him the same question he was asking himself for the past few hours. Why the hell did he not go home with you!?

"I fucked up..acted all jealous and mean..and I'm horrible at apologizing..so.." Pablo didn't know why but he opened up and Joao listened nodding his head.

"I'm sure she will forgive you. I saw that girl stare at you from the stands..you're all she sees..you're her whole world Gavi. I wish to find someone who will look at me the way she looks at you one day"he said standing up and walking away and Pablo really felt like a huge cabrón for ever thinking you would want anybody else.

He collected his phone saying quick bye to the boys before driving back home hoping you were not asleep yet.

For that whole time, you menage to eat something, take a shower and think about the whole situation. Sure, Pablo was acting like a jealous ass but what you said was also very mean..you wanted to apologize to him.

You knew Pablo wasn't much of a talked so you came up with an idea instead. You wore black satin dress and some black stockings with white lace and a black bow knowing how weak Pablo gets seeing you in stockings. Now you were laying on the bed waiting for him to finally come home. You haven't even noticed when you slipped into dreamland while waiting curling up in the ball.

Pablo entered quietly and although light were turned on, you were nowhere to be seen. He walked into the bedroom smiling when he saw you there sleeping but then his eyes wandered to what you were wearing fixating on those knee high socks you had on..his shorts became tight.

He sat down besides you touching your legs gently moving upwards as you slowly opened your eyes yawning adorably while looking into his warm eyes.

"P..pablo..you're..um..you're home.." you said like a happy child and he smiled nodding his head still caressing your legs not letting you get up when you tried to do so.

"Were you waiting for me princesa??You wore these for papi, didn't you preciosa? To drive him crazy.." he leaned closer and started leaving kisses up your thigh while caressing your stockings gently.

"Mhm..I..um..I wanted to apologize..and I knew you would like them" you explain seeing him smirk and nod his head while taking off his jacket and pants settling between your thighs. Then he leaned down capturing your lips for a long and passionate make-out session you both craved since the game.

"I do adore them preciosa..but I also wanted to apologize for how I acted..and for what i said..do you think there is something I can do to make you forgive me easier huh??" he said and you both smirked as you nodded your head.

"What could that be? Huh preciosa?? Tell me..tell papi and he'll do it" Pablo was undoing your night dress taking it off your body but still keeping your high socks..seems he wanted them to stay on you the whole night.

"Um..make me..feel good..p..please" you were mumbling feeling his fingers already teasing your clothed clit while he smirked nodding his head in agreement and taking off your panties as well leaving you bare before him.

He took off the rest of his clothes before kissing down your body finally arriving where you needed him the most teasing your clit with his tongue but then pulling away quickly.

"P..P..please" you were whining feeling super sensitive when he kept your legs spread and the cold sir hit you private parts making you needy.

"Hm..the next time you talk to any guy, it's only to tell him that you're owned by Pablo Gavi! Do you understand princesa! And if they try anything, you tell them who is the only man you let between this precious little thighs of yours..yes sir?" he said touching your swollen folds with one of his long digits and you moaned wanting more.

"Yes..yes sir.." you moan and he smirks nodding his head and finally buried his face into your head eating you out like a starved animal while you moaned his name repeatedly. He was sucking you dry into oblivion not stopping for three consecutive orgasms until you begged him to stop cause you were so sensitive and tender.

"I know they all want to have this sweet little pussy of yours..including Joao..but..I'm the only man allowed to eat it and fuck it..to fill it to the brim..and make you grow big with my babies..fuck! I want to breed you baby! Right now!" Pablo took your legs tossing them over his shoulder before entering you deep in one big motion. You rolled your eyes at the overwhelming feeling of being filled up by his strong girth squeezing around his bicep in response.

"Is that what you want huh!? You want me to fill you up with my cum so good it leaks out of you for days..f..fuck..I'm cumming baby!" Pablo groaned into your neck biting your skin and leaving a prominent teeth mark. The pain mixed with pleasure make you scream and clench around him which sent him off the edge and he came undone deep inside of you with a loud groan of your name leaving his lips.

"F..Fuck amor! You're such a good girl for me!" Pablo praised knowing what it means to you and you blushed enjoying his little kisses all over your body as he pulled out watching his cum drip our of your core. He took a wet towel coming back and opening up your legs slowly knowing you were sore and you winced when cold cloth came in contact with your overstimulated core.

"No..no more..please papi" you were pouting and Pablo smiled leaning in and kissing your lips reassuring you that he is just cleaning you up and then you both can get some well deserved rest.

"Gracias..." you sighed and he smiled pulling you closer and you rested you head on his chest drawing invisible marks on his heated skin.

"Um..what..what if we get p..pregnant?" you ask looking up at him a little reassured when you saw him smile grow as he kissed the top of your head.

"Then you're gonna become the most beautiful mamá en todo el mundo amor..I don't want you to worry amor. I will always be there" Pablo said kissing your head and you nuzzled you face into his neck imagining your whole future together as the happiest little family.

"I'm yours Pablito..I promise" you said already half asleep and Pablo kissed your head playing with your hair and lulling you to sleep slowly.

"I know preciosa mia..I know" he whispered back before you finally fell into deep slumber peaceful to be in your man's arms finally.

#pablo gavi x you #gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barcelona #pablo gavi x y/n #fc barca #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi icons #barcelona spain #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablogavixreadersmut #pablogavira #gavi x you #gavi x yn #gavi x reader

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loviingpedri · 7 months

Text

they caught us - p. gavi

prompt: gavi x gamer!fem!reader. hard launching your relationship on stream

warnings: cursing, grammar issues

credits to owners for all images.

inspo for this story ^^

you were a growing streamer. big in the minecraft and riot games community. you appreciated your fans from the unconditional support. ever since being an exposed barca fan, your platform definitely grew. content was trending to the point where you met the one and only, pablo gavi. his simple message of complimenting you building camp nou in minecraft ended in a few date nights, a lot of kissing, and some risky nights. your fans wanted some player in barca to notice you, but little did you know that you spent your nights with your dream barca player everyday.

exposing your relationship was not in your agenda any time soon. it was the peak of your gaming career and gavi had big plans for the national team. the internet would practically blow up from the news. both of you were not ready for that amount of personal space to be invaded.

it was that time of the day to start your daily stream. it was a good balance of work and relationship. start your stream when gavi is at practice, and end it when he’s at home to solely focus on him.

“hello, hello everyone! welcome to today's stream." waiting a few seconds as more people started joining. “today will be a minecraft stream. i’m thinking of making the barca logo.”

reading the comments blow up by the mention of the club is probably the funniest thing you’ve seen.

“change your shirt on the minecraft skin the jersey of your favorite player. i love that idea, but i don’t really have a favorite player. maybe i’ll do xavi or something.” lying isn’t the best thing to do to your supporters, but personal business is personal business.

after playing for hours and halfway done with the logo, you hear the door opening. “one second guys, i think my roommate is home.” roommate meaning your boyfriend. the plan is really thought out. your best friend occasionally popped into the streams, pretending to be your roommate, and it works. thinking you muted and turned off your camera (which happens often), gavi walks into your gaming room.

“hi gorgeous,” walking in and instantly kissing you made both of you smile. “are you streaming?”

“yeah, i am. i was building the logo. i can show you later when i’m ‘done greeting my roommate’.” making quotation marks with your fingers.

“yeah i’ll sit over here. i’ll just look while you continue playing.” you blew a kiss at him as you put your headset back on.

“alright guys, i’m back. did i miss anything?” your eyes tried to keep up with the chat. it was going faster than usual. you thought it was a raid, but nothing was happening. everyone was going crazy. finally, a donation came through with a message.

read aloud from the automated voice, “viscabarcaaa_11 donated $10 with a message. 'was that gavi you just kissed?’” fuck. gavi quickly sat up from the seat. you realized your camera and microphone was never off. your eyes panning from screen to screen in panic. speechless, you turned red instantly.

you were kissin’ and they caught you whether you like it or not.

you cleared your throat, still don’t know what to say. gavi unplugged your headphones from your pc tower to be able to hear what was going on. he urged you to get up. you had no idea what he was doing, but you just listened.

sitting down, he spoke slow and steady. “hello everyone. this was a very unexpected thing for you. not to mention, an unexpected plan from us. y/n and i have been seeing each other for a few months now. it wasn’t really planned for us to be revealed this early, but thank you for supporting my girlfriend. i am glad to get this off of our chest, because i’ve been wanting to show her off.”

playfully pushing him to the side, “okay thank you for attending this stream, see you tomorrow. love you guys.” making sure you ended the stream fully before giving off a sigh.

“looks like i can show you off now.”

“okay, that’s enough fame for you.”

————————————————————

author’s note: this story has been sitting in my drafts for months and i’m deciding to complete it on a random weekday.

#football x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #spotify #pablo gavi #gavi #gavi x reader #gavi x you #gavi x yn #gavi imagine #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #fc barcelona #fc barca

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greynatomy · 5 months

Text

surprise

katrina gorry x reader

based on this request.

harper’s gonna be a big sister!!!

part 1 part 2

———

“Flowers.”

“Check.”

“Chocolates.”

“Check.”

“Card.”

“Check.”

You and Harper are at the store, buying things for Katrina for Mother’s day. It isn’t until tomorrow, but you wanted to get everything ready.

The next morning, you woke up extra early, leaving the comfort of your wife’s embrace, successfully not waking her. You walked to your daughter’s room, rubbing your hands up and down her back.

“Wake up, Harps. We gotta make Mummy breakfast.”

“Mmm, no.” She stuffs her face closer to the pillow.

“It’s Mother’s Day, remember.”

Harper sits up, gasping, suddenly wide awake.

“Mother’s day!”

You carry Harper on your hip to the kitchen, hair all over the place.

“What should we make Mummy?”

“Uh, pacakes, eggs, bacon.”

Harper helped you mix the pancake batter, reminder her to not eat it cause it’s yucky. You plate all the food and place them in a tray. Walking to the room carefully, you place it down on the table in the corner of the room, helping Harper up on the bed.

“Happy Mummy Day!” She yelled, going into Katrina’s space, cuddling her.

Katrina sits up, back against the headboard, eyes light in up at the sight of her family.

“Oh, this is amazing. I love it.”

You had a bit of a family day, Katrina saying she wanted nothing more than to relax with the two of you. She also did get you some goodies to celebrate you on this day too and you were more than grateful.

———

A month later, you were in London for some meetings. Kyra practically forced you to stay in her place instead of some hotel, saying “I wanna spend some time with my Papa.”

You couldn’t say no.

You arrived in the afternoon, looking for the spare key Kyra told you where, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Woah, woah! Can I help you?” You hear near you.

“Yeah, just looking for the spare key, by I can’t find it.”

“Are you at the right place?” You can tell they’re a bit cautious of you from the tone of their voice.

“Of cour—”

“Papa!” A voice you recognize all too well yells, jumping into your arms. “You’re here!”

“Hey, Roo. How ya been?”

“Good. Good.”

You both are catching up, completely forgetting about the other two that came with Kyra.

“Why’d Kyra call her Papa?” Katie asks Caitlin.

“That’s Mini’s wife.”

“Ah.”

The next day, you left the apartment before Kyra even woke up, leaving a note in the kitchen. It’s a busy day for you.

What you didn’t know was that Kyra was already up, texting your wife the all clear that she could come up. Opening the door, Kyra greeted her mother and sister figures.

They’ve decorated the whole place, having many, many breaks in between. Charli and Kyra were in charge of baking the cake, Mini obviously supervising.

It isn’t until a couple hours later that they hear keys unlocking the front door. They all get into places, lights turned off.

“Happy Father’s Day!”

You flinch in shock, not expecting this kind of welcome home.

“Harper!” You exclaim, excited to see your daughter after being away for a while. You carry Harper on your waist, walking over to where your wife stood. “Hey, baby.”

“Uh, hello? I’m here too.”

“Charli! You’re here!”

“Thanks! I feel the love.”

You didn’t expect to be celebrated on Father’s Day, don’t was an unexpected but appreciated surprise.

“I’ve got one last present.” You wife spoke up, handing you a small box. “Go ahead. Open it.”

She has a big smile on her face, which makes you skeptical, but open the box nonetheless. Carefully lifting the top off, you see a small little stick.

“What is this?” You ask, taking it out for further inspection. “Do you have covid?”

“Wha-no. I don’t have covid.” She looks at you as if you’d grown two heads.

“Two lines means covid though, right?”

“Huh? Let me see.” Kyra takes the stick out of your hands. “What! No way! Are you stupid?”

“What? What is it?”

“She’s pregnant!”

“What? Oh my god!” You carefully walk towards your wife, going down on your knees, pressing your forehead to her stomach. “There’s a baby in here?”

“Are you crying?”

“Shut up, Charli.”

“Harper! You’re gonna be a big sister!”

“Big sister!”

“Yeah! There’s a baby in Mummy’s belly.”

“Mummy eat a baby?”

“No!”

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #katrina gorry #katrina gorry x reader #auswnt #auswnt x reader

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nahoney22 · 7 months

Text

Look, it’s Raining

Tech X GN!Reader

word count: 764

Request: Hello! I just wanted to say thank you for doing my request! I absolutely loved it and it gave me so much comfort <33 I'm sorry if this is kind of late, but I was wondering if you could do another request? Just some fluffy, gender neutral reader with Tech where it's rained on Pabu and reader goes out to have fun in the rain while Tech watches them be happy and then the confession slips out of his lips, and the reader kisses him? Just something very fluffy 🧡

warnings: none, fluff, mutual pining, gender neutral reader, mutual pining, love confession, first kiss. Short but sweet.

authors note: you’re very welcome! I hope you enjoy this one too🧡

As you gazed out the window of the Marauder, a broad grin overtook your face as heavy rain poured from the skies of Pabu.

It had been an eternity since you'd last witnessed such a sight. The Batch always found themselves in climates where rain was a rare commodity, making this unexpected downpour a delightful surprise.

"Hey, Tech, look it’s raining!" You chimed in excitement as Tech strolled into the cockpit, his gaze not even flickering toward you or the rain.

"I'm well aware of what rain is," he replied with his usual dry tone.

You rolled your eyes at his disinterest, but it did little to quell your enthusiasm. Brushing past him, you headed for the door, fully intent on stepping out into the rain. This time, Tech turned to watch you, his expression now filled with fascination. "Where are you going?"

"Outside," you stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You waited for the gangplank to descend as he joined you by the door.

"I must advise against it. You could catch a cold," Tech cautioned, his concern surprising you. You couldn't help but gasp and smile at his words.

"Aw, it almost sounds like you care about me."

He hesitated for a moment, words caught in his throat. But before he could formulate a reply expressing just how much he did care, you were already dashing out into the refreshing rain.

He shook his head in disapproval, but his gaze remained fixed on you. His heart raced, a revelation slowly sinking in. It wasn't an illness that had been unsettling him; it was the deep-seated feelings he had for you, hidden for far too long.

Leaning against the ship, he observed you with a sense of liberation, a weight lifted from his shoulders as he watched you twirl, laugh, and revel in the rain. Your presence has always been a source of solace for him in difficult times.

"Are you going to join me or what?" Your voice cut through the sound of raindrops pelting the ground, catching him off guard. He felt a heat rise to his cheeks as he realised he'd been caught staring, but a surge of courage welled up within him.

Stepping out of the ship, the rain blurred his goggles slightly as he moved toward you. Though he couldn't quite match your exuberance, he stood awkwardly in the rain with you.

"Doesn't it feel amazing?" You laughed, turning your face skyward, uncaring of any onlookers other than Tech.

"I... I am unsure. I was used to it on Kamino," he states.

You nodded in understanding. "I suppose."

Suddenly, as if someone had taken control of his entire being, he blurted out, "I have deep feelings for you."

In the midst of the downpour, Tech's confession hung in the air, tension building as you sought clarity. The rain intensified, its relentless patter drowning out everything else. You tilted your head toward him, the droplets clinging to your eyelashes as you strained to hear his words over the deluge.

"What was that?" you shouted, the rain's crescendo making it uncertain if you'd heard correctly. You desperately wished you had heard him correctly.

Tech moved closer, his determination evident in his gaze as he repeated, "I said, 'I have deep feelings for you.'"

Your heart leaped, and you ran a trembling hand through your soaked hair. "You do?"

He nodded, swallowing hard. "I do. Very much so."

His words sent a jolt of emotion through you, and you felt tears mixing with the rain on your face. The feelings you'd harbored for Tech since you'd joined the squad were now reciprocated, a dream come true.

Tech's uncertainty began to creep in as you remained silent, the heavy rain surrounding you. He couldn't decipher your thoughts. "I am unsure how to take your silence," he admitted.

In response, you took a step closer, the raindrops dancing around you both. "Kiss me," you whispered just loud enough for him to hear, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions. "Kiss me because I feel the exact same, Tech."

A joyous laugh escaped your lips as Tech closed the distance, closing his umbrella of intellect and logic, surrendering to the storm of emotions. He brushed a gentle hand across your wet cheek, his thumb wiping away raindrops as his lips met yours.

And amid the pouring rain and shared confession, your kiss was filled with a longing and desire that had been held back for too long. It was passionate, yet tender. Why couldn’t it have rained any sooner?

Masterlist

Tags: @green-alm0nd @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @imalovernotahater @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness

#tech tuesday #tech x reader #tech x you #nahoney22 writes #bad batch tech #the bad batch tech #the bad batch tech x reader #the bad batch #tbb #tech bad batch

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wordsinhaled · 10 months

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21 24 !! hugs for dream boy !!

thank you for the prompt and i’m so sorry this is atrociously late, i just got done prepping for an exam that is now over! ❤️

from the soft prompts list — “this is a very long hug now sort of hug” and “just really needed a hug sort of hug.” and i threw in ‘i missed you’ as a bonus

Dream has not known himself to be one for hugs, or indeed embraces of any kind.

Of course he understands their appeal, from the slightly removed perspective that is uniquely his as the lord of dreams. He has crafted more than one reverie of nothing more complex than a single, protracted, yearned-for embrace from someone special to the dreamer.

He comprehends—if only academically—that a simple hug can be, under the right circumstances, blissful. Healing. Transformative. So say the psyches of the visitors to his realm.

Still, Dream is not prepared to experience this firsthand. He is not prepared for the unrestrained enthusiasm with which Hob Gadling bounds up from his chair and opens his arms to him, as though this too is part of their familiar ritual.

Nor is he prepared for how much he is pleased by this welcome. For how much he feels immediately eased to be once again in Hob’s presence, even after so short a time.

Dream has surprised him; it is not their usual evening of the week but a Sunday afternoon, and the Inn is mostly empty: only a few patrons sitting at the bar, Hob comfortable at his customary table, sunlight streaming over the papers surrounding him.

It should feel like Dream is trespassing—he is unexpected, and Hob had clearly been busy—yet somehow it does not.

Instead, it feels startlingly ordinary—a tableau of Hob’s day-to-day life; one Dream finds himself pleased to become a part of.

Hob says, “Hello, my friend,” soft and full of fondness, as though a year of weekly meetings has done nothing at all to make a dent in the joy of calling Dream such. He opens his arms wider.

Dream does not normally indulge himself in Hob Gadling’s subconscious, but Hob was daydreaming of just this not a moment ago, loudly enough that Dream could not help but to see flashes of it.

And Hob Gadling’s daydream is thus: Hob would hold Dream’s narrow frame as though each atom of his form manifested in the Waking were cherished, with enough cherishing left over to bleed over into the Dreaming as well. He would squeeze hard enough to lift him slightly from the floor—if Dream would allow such a liberty; for Hob would fain do only what Dream would find pleasing and not a thing more. Hob Gadling daydreams of what Dream would smell like at the crook of his neck, were Hob to bury his nose there; of how Dream’s hair would feel brushing his cheek. He imagines it soft as cornsilk and ephemeral as shadows, which is, impressively, not far from the truth.

And in Hob’s daydream he says “I missed you,” quietly enough that Dream might not hear. But—secret fear, or dearest wish, or both?—there is every chance that Dream could hear, for Dream, Hob knows, does not have the hearing of a mere mortal.

“I missed you too,” Dream says aloud. He cannot help himself. Who is he, if not a bringer of men’s dreams? This one is easy to fulfill. It requires only that Dream offer up a truth he finds suddenly easy to admit, standing here, sharing the same shaft of sunlight that pools in the smile lines around Hob’s eyes.

Dream takes a step towards Hob, until it is only natural that he finds himself within the circle of Hob’s waiting arms.

He drops his forehead onto Hob’s shoulder, and curls his fists into the thick wool of Hob’s sweater. His hair, shadow-soft, brushes Hob’s cheek, and he knows that in this moment he smells of all that Hob likes best.

(Later, when he thinks of falling in love with Hob Gadling, he imagines he began to realize it then.

For it was a single embrace that set his manifested heart to swaying like a boat settling at anchor; a single embrace that made of him a leaf drifting groundward on a warm spring breeze.

A singular moment of bliss.)

#the sandman #dreamling #god this feels… very rusty but here it is #quite possibly not good at all but i have lost the ability to tell i am 😴😴😴

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litfeathers · 1 year

Text

Before Hunter's Palisman Observations... Before Lilith's Letter... Before Luz's Diary Entry...

A witch's quill scratches on paper, her eyebrows furrowing in thought as she fills a well-worn book with her thoughts and desires and fears.

She smiles at the yellow bird who is fast asleep on her extra pillow, and with a snap of her fingers extinguishes the light spells that had been illuminating her cozy bedroom.

She sleeps.

She dreams…

She dreams of a strange world. A world without magic. A harsh world of rules, and penance, and fear.

A man stands in front of a bonfire, the glow of the firelight dancing on his wild blond hair. He is surrounded by a screaming crowd, torches and pitchforks and fists waving in the air.

"No," she begs. "No, no, no, no."

She calls his name over the cacophony of violent chanting, her voice muffled by the roar of the growing conflagration.

He turns.

She screams.

Blood. Smoke. Fire. The flash of a knife. It all happens too fast.

He is gone.

...and she wakes up.

Welcome to Evelyn's Journal.

Credits: -The phenomenal cover art was drawn by the absolute legend @bananadramaaa. Thank you so much for your help! -The script and Evelyn's voice were written and recorded by Birdie (that's me!) -It's probably pretty obvious, but this project was directly inspired by the audio recordings a few of TOH's VAs did for one of Dana's charity livestreams. Look them up if you have never heard them. They are fantastic!

The audio and script will also be available at AO3 on (or some time after) Sunday, March 26th. You may find it at litfeathers if you would like to give this project some love over there too!

The complete script can be found under the read more, so you may follow along if you wish.

Grab a snack and get comfy. We have an almost 15 minute runtime! Enjoy! 🔥🪶

Scaburary 10th

I had to cover for Bileadona at work. She never showed up for her shift, and so Goldie and I were forced to make an unexpected trip to Bonesborough.

Extra disappointing, since I was planning to spend the afternoon in the garden with my sketchbook. I wanted to redo my blue jay drawing, as I am not quite satisfied with it.

Ah, well. I’ll draw in the garden tomorrow.

Scaburary 11th

UUUGHHH DAMN RAIN!

Goldie has been moping and staring out the window at the sizzling forest all morning, desperately wishing she could have her early morning flight through the trees. I have given her a handful of seeds to help her feel better. She seems pouty still, but has cheered up slightly. She is currently ordering the seeds from most to least appealing. Heh. This should take her a while.

Only two days are left!

Scaburary 13th

Work, work, work. I couldn’t stop watching the sunlight and shadows slowly move across the library floor and sighing impatiently. Bileadona happened by my cart as I was shelving books, and asked why the calendar at my desk is so strange. I told her it was an old-fashioned solar calendar from the bloodievil period. She didn’t seem to buy it, but didn’t push the subject.

I also made a quick…detour before I went home. Just to say hello to some dear friends. Some very special friends who are going to severely regret their actions from last week.

*evil witch cackle*

As an added bonus, I finally managed to nab one of their…creative drawings of me. It is now proudly displayed on my living room wall, just above the couch. Truly, it is a work of art, and I am humbled by their kindness.

I just hope they find my return offering just as humbling ehehehehe.

I have been getting more and more excited for every visit to the Human Realm. Not that I have been there recently. I most definitely have not. Don’t be absurd.

But anyway. This week has dragged endlessly! I cannot wait for tomorrow.

It’s nice to have a friend.

Scaburary 14th, Human Realm year 1623

Today was nice.

It was a Friday in Human reckoning, so Caleb and I enjoyed the usual supper on a blanket in the snowy woods. I made sure to include dragon bacon sandwiches and deviled griffin stew in the spread, as they are his favorites. And of course, a thermos of hot apple blood to warm us up. It was a marvelous feast!

He looks a bit better lately. His skin is less pale, and the shadows under his eyes are less prominent.

The moment I landed at at our spot, Caleb immediately asked me if I had anything to do with the recent vandalism of the Gravesfield meetinghouse. I plead innocent. He grimly informed me that someone had scribbled all over the siding, and that one of the drawings bore a striking resemblance to Goldie. I expressed my deepest sympathies for the poor soul who would have to clean it up. He further informed me that the words “Evie was here” were scrawled over the front door. I told him that since my given name isn’t Evie, it’s Evelyn, he was clearly looking for another culprit. He grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me dead in the eye, and told me, in the most fed-up of tones, that the drawings could move.

“Huh,” I said. “In that case, it sounds like you might have a witch on your hands. I hear they are pretty tricky to deal with, but seeing as you are such an expert witch hunter, you surely won’t have a problem rooting her out!”

At that he made such a ridiculously frustrated face, I could no longer hold in my laughter. It was the look he gets where his cheeks flush and his nose flares. The red even reached his ears this time! Fantastic.

He gave up at that point. He just sighed deeply and shook his head. But I could tell he was desperately trying to hold back a smile.

While we enjoyed our meal, we got on the topic of weather. After my previous deception, he didn’t quite believe me when I told him that rain boils in the Demon Realm. When I cast an illusion to show him a typical Boiling Isles thunderstorm, his eyes lit up brighter than the sun. As fun as it is to tease and banter with him, I think I vastly prefer those quiet moments between us. When the storm clouds lift from his eyes.

*trails off*

I can tell he’s lonely.

Last week, while we were on our owl watch, he mentioned offhandedly that he hasn’t received a proper hug in years.

I was about to feign ignorance and pretend to not know what a hug is, until I realized that…err. Well, we are two galdorpeas in a pod in that regard, aren’t we?

And no, I did not offer myself up. Because some walls are built for a reason.

Caleb is surrounded by pitchforks and torches and prying eyes.

His village is dangerous.

His brother has been asking more and more…questions.

I know I shouldn’t keep doing this. I know I can’t keep doing this. There is a line, and I am terrified that I am gleefully dancing towards it, and one day I am going to be unable to stop myself from crossing into something…

*deep sigh*

…something I cannot come back from.

I am unwilling to admit this anywhere but here. And this is difficult to write, even if my eyes are the only ones that will ever read it. But…

He scares me.

Hah! How silly is that? We’re the closest of friends. I am a powerful adult witch. And I am scared of him?

It makes no sense. Witch hunter my butt! I trust him completely. He is kind. Sweet, even. No matter how much sass and grumpiness he sprinkles into his words, it is abundantly clear that his heart is made of pure gold. His smile could melt snow. His soft words could tame the wildest slitherbeast. His laugh is pure music.

*embarrassed cough*

So, then. Why the fear? Why have I been finding myself so on edge around him lately? It’s incredibly frustrating.

Words are difficult to get out. My pulse quickens when he sits too close. I can no longer look him in the eye without my face heating up. What else could cause this but fear? It is clearly my body warning me that what I am doing is incredibly foolish.

Or perhaps it’s just the apple blood.

*sighs in frustration, then there is a long moment of silence*

No. I’m not that naive. I know it’s not the apple blood. It’s just that…I’m…

I’m not ready.

I don’t have much more I would like to say on this topic, so I suppose I shall end this entry and tuck myself into bed with a good book. Perhaps Goldie would like for me to read her another story.

Here’s hoping for some nice dreams. Titan willing.

Goodnight.

Scaburary 15th

I had the day off from work. I tried to draw in the garden, but my redo of the blue jay sketch came out even worse than the original. I ended up spending most of my day on the couch, half paying attention to a book I could barely focus on enough to read.

I had dreams last night. Dreams I absolutely refuse to relive by writing them down.

Please. Please, please, please let tonight be better.

Scaburary 16th

Oh, Titan. I hate this.

I have made a decision. A decision I am absolutely miserable to be making.

It’s something I can absolutely not back out on. Something I should have done ages ago.

Something I should have done before I got…attached.

No matter what, this will end in pain. But it must end. Before he is harmed. Or worse. I know what I must do. But it hurts. I have to protect him. This week will be rough. Please wish me luck and courage.

Scaburary 17th My chest hurts. My eyes are sore. Everyone has been giving me space at work. I am sure they can tell something is very wrong, but no one has pried. At least I managed to keep it together until I was halfway home. Be proud of my fortitude.

After I was done being sorry for myself, I got an idea. I am unsure if I will be able to follow through with my plan. But if I can find my courage, perhaps I can at least try.

When we say our goodbyes, I can at least ensure Caleb still has a friend.

I haven’t carved a palisman in years. Not since I made Goldie with Mother and Father. And not since they…

*chokes up for a second*

I don’t even know if I remember how. But there is a grove of healthy palistrom trees in the backyard. And I still have my knife.

I even know what he would want.

Fine. Tomorrow I will start carving.

Scaburary 18th I opened my journal to write, but I have nothing substantial to say. This week has been miserable. I wish it were Friday so I could get this over with. Goldie keeps offering me seeds to cheer me up. I’m sorry, Goldie. I appreciate the gesture, but not everything can be fixed with a tasty seed.

Scaburary 19th I sent Goldie to deliver my final rebus message. I got such an excited response back, I nearly lost it again. He has heard a saw-whet owl in the woods by the fields. He wants to take me out there to listen for it. Sounds lovely. I suppose it’s nice to look forward to one last owl watch. What should I do with the remaining Titan’s blood? Dispose of it? Donate it to a researcher? All I know is that I cannot keep the vials. Lest I be…tempted. I’ll miss the birds. Caleb’s gift is drying on the kitchen table. I wonder what wish he will make.

Scaburary 20th I am surprisingly calm. There is something to be said for allowing yourself to…feel. To let your emotions exist, acknowledge them, let them out. That isn’t typically how I operate, but perhaps it can be advantageous to…sometimes…occasionally…not bury everything? As much as I hate to admit it. I was even able to laugh at Goldie’s antics. She brought home a rattle worm and pretended to feed it to our new scarlet friend. She even feigned offense when he refused her gift by remaining silent and wooden. Silly bird! I don’t know what I would ever do without her. I think I will be fine. Once the dust settles. We will all be fine.

Scaburary 22nd I do not know where to start. It is late evening. I am sitting here in bed, journal in lap, as usual. But Goldie is perched on my shoulder instead of her usual spot on my extra pillow. Because my extra pillow is occupied. It is occupied by a blond human and a small red bird. Oh. He just reached out in his sleep to hug my waist. I suppose I’m trapped now. I’ve never been so happy. I’ve never been so happy, and yet so anxious? I can’t stop smiling. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling or swooning or giggling since last night! How embarrassing. How completely and utterly embarrassing! ...Goldie, I know you are reading this. I can hear you laughing! Quit it! I think I’m still in a bit of shock-GOLDIE THIS IS PRIVATE. I haven’t quite processed any of this-I KNOW YOU CAN FEEL MY EMOTIONS AND HEAR MY THOUGHTS! I DON’T CARE! YOU’RE STILL BEING NOSY. WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE WERE BOTH SO OBVIOUS? I SAID STOP LAUGHING!!! Fine. You were right. Is that what you wished to hear? Are you happy now, you smug little feather brain? Good. Anyway. Where was I? Everything happened so…fast. The last 24 hours have been absolutely wild. And terrifying. And…intense. But I think I can finally admit something important, even if it’s only here for now. Let’s see if I can manage to actually write it. Goodness, my hand is shaking. Alright. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Here goes… *swoons a little* I’m in love. Goodnight, everyone. Sweet dreams. *snaps fingers, and light spells are extinguished* Sung: You are not alone No matter how far you have flown Together we feel we’re at home In darkness light shines in your bones *As she hums the song fades out*

#The Owl House #Evelyn Clawthorne #Wittecouple #Witteclaw #wittewife #Birdie Chirps

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