#when I saw your request I got so determined to draw them together— | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nocturnest · 2 months

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Heyyy. Could u do tan x reader where they are like partner in crime and they get on really well and tan kinda just has a soft spot for them. Like they are in mission briefing and reader makes a point, tan is jumping on the idea, reader needs a breather outside for a min whilst on a mission, tan is going with her and he just likes being in her presence. They are both a bit oblivious with each other so its a hard watch for lemon and ladybug (maybe maria too :) ). And tan is affectionate but in his own way like 'saw this and thought you might like it but idc if u dont'. Hes always got her back but in a subtle way but it's not so subtle for lemon bcus he knows his brother and he knows hes whipped. Really hope u can do this and hope it wasn't complicated :))))

Hello, lovely! Thank you for this wonderful idea - it's no at all too complicated. I appreciate how much detail you included because I'm still relatively new at this and it's only my second fic so I hope that you enjoy and feel free to send more requests if this meets your liking! ~

Partners in Crime

In a dimly lit hotel suite, Tangerine and Lemon are sat beside you, their expressions serious as they review the dossier spread out on the table. The air was thick with anticipation, tension coiling in the pit of your stomach as you read through the details of the mission.

Lemon had been shot in the leg during the Twins' last mission, so they called you in as the unofficial third of the fruits.

You scan through the document as thoroughly as you can but you find it difficult with Tangerine's gaze on you. You look up briefly and meet his eyes. His piercing blue eyes seem to bore into your soul, and for a moment, you find it hard to concentrate as a rush of warmth floods your cheeks.

Feeling his intense stare, you glance up briefly, meeting Tangerine's eyes. There's a flicker of something in his expression – a mix of concern and reassurance – that sends a shiver down your spine. Despite the gravity of the situation, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you silently acknowledge the unspoken connection between you. You swear that you see a small smile creeping up on his face.

Clearing your throat and desperate to focus, you return your focus to the dossier, determined to push aside any distractions and focus on the task at hand. You dissect the details of the mission methodically, your mind racing as you strategize the best course of action.

"It's the usual," Lemon remarked, "You corner the target, retrieve the files, and get the fuck out of there."

As Lemon spoke, you couldn't help but notice the knowing smirk that played at the corners of his lips. It was clear that he had picked up on the subtle dynamic between you and Tangerine, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of embarrassment at being caught in the act.

Tangerine's gaze flickered between you and Lemon, his expression unreadable as he considered the plan laid out before him. Finally, he spoke up, his voice low and measured.

"So, how are we going to go about this?"

You have an idea but you're hesitant.

"Well - um... We could always pose as a couple. Raises less suspicion if we're talking amongst ourselves. Only if you want to of course..."

You pause for confirmation, nervous as all hell.

Tangerine's gaze lingered on you for a moment, his expression thoughtful as he considered your suggestion. You couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach, unsure of how he would respond to your proposal.

After what felt like an eternity, Tangerine finally nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I think that's a great idea. It's a lot easier to blend in when we're not drawing attention to ourselves."

Relief washed over you at his approval, and you couldn't help but return his smile with one of your own. "Great, I'm glad you agree," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.

Lemon clasps his hands together and sighs, "Well - now that that's settled, I'm going to get some fucking beauty sleep. My leg's been killing me."

As Lemon announced his departure, you couldn't help but chuckle at his gruff demeanor. "Alright, Lemon. Get some rest. We'll handle the rest of the planning."

With a nod, Lemon headed towards the door, casting a final glance over his shoulder. "Don't stay up too late, you two. We've got a big day ahead of us."

Once Lemon had left the room, you turned your attention back to Tangerine, a sense of anticipation bubbling within you.

Once Lemon had left the room, leaving you and Tangerine alone, a mischievous glint danced in Tangerine's eyes. He leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Well, well, well, looks like it's just you and me now," he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile at his antics. "Oh, please. Don't tell me you're going to start with the jokes now."

Tangerine chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "Wouldn't dream of it, love... for now," he replied, winking playfully.

Despite your best efforts to maintain a serious demeanor, you couldn't help but laugh at Tangerine's lighthearted teasing. There was something about his playful nature that always managed to brighten your mood, even in the midst of a tense situation.

As you and Tangerine settled back into your planning, the atmosphere in the room was lighter, and you couldn't help but feel more drawn to Tangerine with each passing minute spent with him.

But as the night wore on, exhaustion began to catch up with both of you. The weight of the mission and the hours of planning took their toll, and soon you noticed Tangerine's eyelids growing heavy, his head nodding forward ever so slightly.

With a soft chuckle, you reached out and gently nudged him, a fond smile playing at your lips. "Looks like someone's ready for bed," you teased, your voice laced with affection.

Tangerine blinked owlishly, his gaze momentarily unfocused before he shook his head slightly, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "I'm fine, just... resting my eyes," he mumbled, his words slurring slightly.

You couldn't help but laugh softly at his feeble attempt to deny his fatigue. "Sure you are, Tangerine," you replied teasingly, reaching out to gently pat his arm. "Why don't you take a break? We can pick this up in the morning."

With a reluctant nod, Tangerine acquiesced, leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes. Just as you begin to stand up, his eyes gently flutter open and he reaches for your hand lazily.

"Stay?"

As Tangerine's eyes fluttered open and he reached out for your hand, a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips. His vulnerability in that moment tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn't bring yourself to deny his request.

"Of course, Tangerine," you replied softly, settling back into your seat beside him. You intertwined your fingers with his, feeling a warmth spread through you at the simple gesture of connection.

Tangerine's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a gentle, comforting motion. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a small smile, you leaned your head against his shoulder, relishing in the warmth and comfort of his presence. The weight of the mission and the exhaustion of the night melted away in that moment, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the two of you together.

Before long, the rhythmic sound of his breathing filled the room, a peaceful reminder of the trust and camaraderie that existed between you.

You sighed, and before you even realized it, you were reaching out to brush a stray curl from Tangerine's forehead, your touch feather-light against his skin. He looked so peaceful, so angelic. The tension between his brows had disappeared. You noticed how close the two of you were, how you could easily reach over and -

Oh, no. You were utterly and horrendously fucked.

~ The pulsating rhythm of the music filled the air as you entered the room. Feeling your nervousness, Tangerine placed a gentle hand on the small of your back.

You look up to him hesitantly and a smile appears beneath his mustache.

“Don’t worry, love. Just keep up that beautiful smile of yours and everything will sort itself out.”

A light blush makes its way onto your face that you hope he can’t notice as he observes the rest of the room discreetly.

“Dance with me, will ya darlin'?” he turns to you with a grin, his voice playful yet inviting.

You grin back, “It would be my pleasure.”

With a nod, you take Tangerine's hand as he leads you onto the dance floor. The music envelops you, its infectious rhythm sweeping you up in its embrace as you move together in perfect harmony.

As you dance, you can't help but feel a sense of comfort and security in Tangerine's presence. He looks charming as ever in his blue pinstriped suit. Don't get distracted, you remind yourself as you begin looking in the crowd for the target. Your eyes land on what appears to very clearly be a wealthy man. Late 60s. His hair is a myriad of white and gray hairs. He laughs boisterously around a crowd of women.

"You see 'im?"

"Yeah..."

Seemingly, the target feels your gaze and looks your way. He smirks into his drink while maintaining eye contact with you. You feel a sense of discomfort creeping in on you, but you remind yourself to keep up a front and give a shy smile back.

Tangerine's eyes dart between the two of you. "Right," he sniffs, "You know what to do. You find a way to get him into his office to give us the code to the safe, and I'll be right behind you the whole time, promise." He squeezes your hand with assurance before muttering, "God forbid that fucking geezer tries anything."

And then, just as you had hoped, you found yourself face to face with the target, a charming smile gracing his lips as he extended his hand towards you.

"May I spare the lady for a dance?" he asked, his voice smooth and confident.

Tangerine's eye twitches but otherwise, he remains cool and collected, "Be my guest."

You offer the target a polite smile, your heart pounding in your chest as you accept his invitation to dance. As you move across the dance floor, you can feel Tangerine's eyes on you, his silent presence a reassuring anchor in the midst of the chaos.

The target's grip tightens on your hand, pulling you closer as he leads you in a graceful waltz. You force yourself to maintain your composure, to keep up the facade of innocence and charm as you dance with the man who holds the key to your mission's success.

But despite your best efforts, you can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at the pit of your stomach. The target's gaze feels like a weight on your skin, his eyes boring into yours with a predatory intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

"You're quite the stunner, you know that?"

Your eyes widen with surprise, "Oh?"

The man continues, "Oh yes! It makes me wonder what you could possibly be doing with a man like that when someone like me could offer you so much more."

You feel a chill run down your spine and hardly the good kind. The target seems to notice and perceive it as interest.

You lean in, feigning coy, "And what is it exactly that you have to offer?"

In the background, you make out Tangerine sitting at the bar. He has an unreadable look on his face and seems almost angry. Tangerine grips the whiskey in his hand tightly, his knuckles white.

As the dance comes to an end, the target leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Meet me in my office," he whispers, his voice sending a chill down your spine. "And just maybe I'll show you."

You force a smile, nodding politely as you pull away from him. "I'll be there" you reply, praying that your voice doesn't waver and thankfully it doesn't.

The man walks away giving you one last knowing glance. Your smile is already fading as the man finally turns away. You take in deep breaths but feel the room closing in on you. You're stronger than this. You've been on countless missions like this before, so how is this one any different?

You navigate your way through the dancing couples and make your way to the balcony for some fresh air.

There's a gentle breeze as you step out onto the balcony, and a sense of relief washes over you, the cool evening air providing a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere of the crowded ballroom. You gaze out at the sprawling garden maze below.

The maze is bathed in soft moonlight, its intricate pathways illuminated by the glow of outdoor lanterns scattered throughout. Despite the chill in the air, the sight is enchanting, a peaceful oasis amidst the chaos of the party.

You move closer to one of the outdoor heat lamps, positioning yourself nearby to soak in its warmth. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, allowing yourself a moment of quiet reflection amidst the whirlwind of the mission. The sound of distant laughter drifts up from the garden below, mingling with the rustle of leaves and the gentle hum of the heat lamp.

You hear the sound of familiar footsteps but don't open your eyes.

"Love?"

You recognize the voice immediately, and a sense of relief floods through you as you open your eyes to find Tangerine standing beside you on the balcony. His expression is unreadable, but there's a hint of concern in his piercing blue eyes.

"Tangerine," you breathe out, unable to suppress the wave of emotion that washes over you at the sight of him. His eyes are practically glowing as he stands beneath the lamp.

He steps closer to you, his gaze searching yours for any sign of distress. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft and gentle.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal, but the concern in Tangerine's eyes urges you to speak. "I... I'm fine," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... I don't like the feeling of his grubby hands all over me."

He stills, unsure of whether to reach toward you or not. He longs to comfort you, to whisk you away from here and into the comfort of his arms, but he doesn't know how you'd react.

"I know it's tough," he says, his voice tinged with empathy. "But you're doing great. You're one of the strongest people I fucking know. And I'm not going to stand by and let anything bad happen to you. You know that, right?"

Without a word, you close the distance between the two of you, and his arms envelop you in a warm and comforting embrace. You lean into his arms as he holds you close.

"Partners?" You whisper.

"Partners."

But you both seem to be wondering what if you could be more?

You feel more confident after speaking with Tangerine. You're good at your job - you know that. And you aren't going to let a fucking geezer get you down.

It's quiet as you and Tangerine roam through the halls of the mansion and make your way to this man's office. As you both come closer toward it, you notice two broad-shouldered guards blocking your way.

Tangerine pulls you aside into an alcove and pulls out two earpieces from his pocket.

"Here, I brought these so we can hear each other."

Tangerine reaches forward and slips the device onto your ear. The small earpiece fits snugly, the soft hum of static filling your ear as you adjust it into place.

Tangerine nods, a determined glint in his eyes as he secures his own earpiece. "Alright, let's do this fucker in," he says, his voice low and steady.

You give him one last smile, and he gives one back, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Is he worried? Never mind that.

While Tangerine remains out of sight of the guards, you make your way toward the office door. One of the guards knocks, and you hear a boisterous, "Come in!"

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you push open the door and step into the office, Tangerine's voice coming through crystal clear in your earpiece.

"You've got this, love."

The target, an older man with a smug grin plastered across his face, looks up from his desk, his eyes lingering on you with unmistakable interest. "Ah, there you are," he says, gesturing for you to come closer. "I've been expecting you."

You force a polite smile, your heart pounding in your chest as you approach the desk. "Thank you for seeing me," you reply, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

The target's grin widens as he leans back in his chair, his eyes roving over you in a way that makes your skin crawl. "It's my pleasure, my dear," he says, his tone oozing with false charm. ""Now, where was I? Oh yes, you were asking what I could possibly have to offer?"

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his blatant attempts at flirtation, instead keeping your expression neutral as you try to steer the conversation toward the task at hand.

"I wonder," you begin, trailing your fingertips against one of the armchairs, "If a man like you doesn't have secrets that he might be hiding..."

The target looks back eagerly, eyes raking your form up and down. He nears closer to you with careful eyes, "What kinds of secrets?"

Now leaning against the armchair, you pull delicately at the hem of your dress until it reaches your thigh, "The kind that would destroy you if someone knew about them."

You hear a cough in your earpiece.

After a tense moment of silence, the target finally nods, a sly grin curling at the corners of his lips. "Very well," he says, his hands grazing the paperweight on his desk. "I just might provide you with the secret you desire. But first..."

You feel a surge of apprehension as the target's voice trails off, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. "Let's play a game! I'd like to get to know you a little better," he finishes, his tone dripping with unmistakable intent.

"Is this man on Fifty Shades of crack?," you hear Tangerine practically yell in your ear.

You can't help but stifle a nervous giggle at Tangerine's colorful commentary, his words providing a small but welcome distraction from the unsettling situation at hand.

You force a polite smile, your mind racing as you search for a way to extricate yourself from the situation without arousing suspicion. "I'm afraid I can't," you reply, your voice steady despite the unease that coils in the pit of your stomach. "I have other matters to attend to."

The target's grin falters slightly at your refusal, but he doesn't relent. Instead, he leans in closer, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint as he continues to press the issue. "Come now, my dear," he urges, his tone coaxing. "Surely you can spare a few moments for a little game. It'll be fun, I promise."

Your heart races as you feel the weight of the target's gaze bearing down on you, his proximity sending a wave of discomfort washing over you. You glance toward the door, willing yourself to remain calm despite the rising tension in the room.

Meanwhile, Tangerine's voice crackles in your ear, his frustration palpable as he listens to the exchange. "This fucking prick," he growls, his voice laced with barely contained anger. "I swear if he doesn't back off..."

He grabs you by the chin, the rest of his fingers pressing into the side of your face. "By the end of the night, I'm sure I'll have you screaming my name.

Tangerine's patience wears thin. "That fucking bastard," he snarls, his voice a low, menacing growl. "I've had enough of this bullshit. I'm comin' in."

"No - you'll blow our cover," you whisper.

The target's face shifts with confusion and surprise, "What was that?"

You hear the sounds of gunshots outside the door and the target looks up with alarm. The door slams open and Tangerine bursts in, gun drawn in his hand.

"Now here's the deal ya old fuck, you give us the fucking code and maybe I just won't shoot ya," Tangerine yells, hair falling into his eyes, veins popping.

The target seems to consider his options as he looks between you and Tangerine. Retaining what confidence he has left, the target utters, "L-Let's be civil about this, shall we?"

He's behind his desk and you notice a movement out of the corner of your eye. The target seems to be reaching for something.

You grab an extraordinarily heavy paperweight from the target's desk, consider the weight of it in your hand, and wack the target across the head with it, "Is this civil enough for you?"

He barely has time to react and goes out cold, blood seeping from the top of his head.

Tangerine looks at you with slight frustration yet amusement, "Well...now how are we goin' to get the code for the safe?"

You slowly turn towards him and grin, "He already gave it to me."

Tangerine gives a look of confusion as you make your way toward the desk, peeling a sticky note off of where the metal paperweight used to be. On it is a four-digit code.

You make your way toward the safe behind the desk, "Not quite the brightest we've encountered, eh?"

"Let's hope his lack of intelligence works in our favor," he mutters, his hand resting on the grip of his gun.

You punch in the four-digit code with practiced precision, the sound of the tumblers clicking into place echoing in the silence of the room. With a quiet creak, the safe door swings open, revealing a stack of documents neatly arranged inside.

Tangerine's eyes light up with satisfaction as he steps forward to examine the contents. "Bloody brilliant, love," he says, his voice low with excitement.

You share a triumphant grin with Tangerine as you begin to retrieve the documents from the safe, each one a piece of the puzzle that will bring down your target's operation once and for all.

The mission is completed successfully and a few weeks go by. You, Lemon, and Tangerine team up again and again on various missions - to Portugal, Monaco, and then Bolivia.

Between Tangerine's ranting about you and your lovestruck eyes, Lemon wasn't sure how much of this he could take much longer. He would do whatever it took to get both of your heads out of your arses to realize your feelings for one another.

And eventually, the perfect moment arrived. As the three of you found yourselves on another mission, this time in the bustling streets of Tokyo, Lemon observed something that was the last fucking straw for him.

As the three of you strolled through the vibrant streets of Tokyo, the colorful sights and sounds of the bustling outdoor market beckoned to you. Lemon couldn't help but notice the subtle glances exchanged between you and Tangerine, the way your eyes lit up with excitement at each new discovery.

When Tangerine spotted a small jewelry stall tucked away in a corner of the market, he seized the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. Lemon's suspicions were confirmed when he saw Tangerine emerge a few moments later, a mischievous grin on his face and a jewel-encrusted hairclip clutched in his hand.

"Oi, what's that?" Lemon asked, eyeing the hairclip with curiosity as Tangerine presented it to you with a flourish.

"It's for you, love," Tangerine replied, his voice low as he held out the hairclip for you to admire. He stumbles over his next words, "I - I saw it and thought of you. I mean, I don't mind you don't like it, I can always - "

You cut his sentence short, "Thank you, Tangerine," you said softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, your eyes sparkling with gratitude as you ran your fingers over the intricate design.

Tangerine's cheeks flushed slightly at your gesture, and Lemon felt a surge of frustration building within him. The dance you and Tangerine had going on around your feelings for each other was going to drive him mad.

"Will you help me put it on?" You ask with a shy smile. Tangerine happily obliges, delicately clasping the clip to your hair.

"Fuck me," mutters Lemon, absolutely at his wit's end.

You arrive at a hotel, the three of you going over your next job, a mission from the White Death, whose son has been held for ransom by some group called the Triad. You're rather tired, so you head off to your room.

Lemon, meanwhile, has just about had it.

"Enough is enough," Lemon declared, his voice firm as he turned to face Tangerine. "You need to pull your head out of your arse and confess your feelings to her, mate. It's bloody obvious to everyone but you."

Tangerine's eyes widened in surprise at Lemon's outburst, but before he could respond, Lemon held up a hand to silence him.

"I'm serious, Tangerine," Lemon continued, his tone softening slightly as he spoke. "You've been pining after her for long enough. It's time to man up and tell her how you feel."

With that, Lemon storms off, heading to his room for the night. Perhaps it is time for Tangerine to finally confess his feelings and put an end to the tension between you once and for all. But nothing can console him from being afraid of losing you and your friendship in the process.

Things have gone absolutely tits up a long time ago and all thanks to this blonde fucking glasses prat. First, the damn briefcase had gone missing, courtesy of him, then you had discovered the Son to be bleeding out of his eyes, probably also courtesy of him, and so now here you are, trying to keep Tangerine from blowing a gasket while he sought out this Ladybug character and became increasingly more disheveled in the process - not that you mind, of course.

You're not at all distracted by the loose strands of hair that frame his face, the ferocity behind his blue eyes, or the chest hair that creeps out from under his tight shirt. Yes you are. No - you're definitely not entranced by him at all. You're positively fucked. Especially not when he pulls you close and gives you a longing glance, muttering "Stay here, love," before violently knocking on the door to the restroom.

Ladybug opens it and chaos ensues. You're amazed by the unquenchable level of anger Tangerine seems to have toward this man. He's roughhousing him like there's no tomorrow and you'll be damned if you don't think it's one of the hottest things you've ever seen.

Their fight is interrupted as the train stewardess enters the train car. She seems very sweet yet seemingly oblivious to any of what is going on.

Tangerine is out of breath and bleeding from his nose and Ladybug isn't that far off. It's when Ladybug asks for water that Tangerine looks like he's about to lose it again. You roll your eyes at Ladybug's antics and Tangerine gives you a frustrated look that seems to say See what I have to deal with, here.

Drinking his water, Ladbug pauses, "You sure you don’t want to talk this out?

"Not particularly, no."

You throw a kettle back at Ladybug in response. It lands and he stumbles back, yelling "Ow, woman!"

You step between the both of them, gun at the ready, and exclaim, "Alright, that's enough!"

"Woah, lady!"

"Ladybug, calm down. Tangerine, stop with the fighting. We need to figure this out like civilized adults."

Tangerine glares at Ladybug, his fists clenched at his sides. "Where's the briefcase, you sneaky bastard? What did you do to the Son?"

Ladybug straightens up, adjusting his glasses nervously. "Listen, I've got the case, but I have no idea what's wrong with the kid. I didn't even know he was dead!"

You scrutinize Ladybug once more before asking, "Right, and where's the case?"

Ladybug hesitates until you point the gun in his direction, "Alright! It's in the refreshment car."

You scrutinize Ladybug once more before pulling Tangerine aside. You put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, and it seems to do something. The crazed look in his eyes calms and his breathing settles.

"I don't think Lemon was wrong. This guy might not be our Diesel."

Tangerine sighs, "I swear if you start with the Thomas references, I'm going to lose my shit - "

You smile assuredly, "Alright, no more train references. But seriously, we need to consider all possibilities here. If Ladybug didn't have anything to do with the briefcase or the Son's condition, then who did?"

Tangerine runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "I don't fucking know, but we need to focus on finding out who's behind all of this and stop them before it's too late."

You nod in agreement. "Agreed. Let's just for now until we figure out who's responsible and make them pay for what they've done. Then you can beat him up as much as you want."

Tangerine gives you a grateful look. "Thanks, love. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smile, feeling a sense of safety and closeness with Tangerine despite the chaos surrounding you. "Likewise. Now let's go find some answers."

Ladybug looks between the two of you, confused yet hopeful that he can escape your wrath. He observes your interaction with Tangerine and the way you adjust his tie subconsciously, looking at him with absolute adoration. He thinks he understands now what Lemon meant when he muttered something about his partners being "oblivious as fuck." Because Tangerine seems just as unaware of the effect you seem to have on him.

Suddenly, though, Tangerine's phone rings and the caller does not sound happy. They expect you, Lemon, and Tangerine to get your arses out of the train at the next stop with the briefcase in hand. God knows the two of you won't be able to make it to the refreshment cart in time.

After you express your worry about getting your arms cut off, Ladybug offers to pose as Lemon, and you three set off to find a briefcase.

You, Tangerine, and Ladybug find yourselves in front of again what Tangerine so delicately put as an "80s dance-off."

"Wow. You two do look like twins, huh?"

Tangerine tries to keep his frustration to a minimum, "Yeah, okay. We got the case, now what?"

The leader of the group retains a look of seriousness, "You still take the train to Kyoto station."

"Mm-hmm. Yeah, okay. We can do that. Wonderful."

The man pauses with a look of scrutiny, "Have you opened the case?"

"No, of course not. Do you know what? I never asked for the combination. You know what I mean? Keep it safe that way."

Ladybug joins in with a shoddy English accent, "Yeah, so no one gets greedy."

Tangering fights the urge to roll his eyes and you're trying not to burst out into laughter. That is until Ladybug starts playing with the lock on the briefcase, which opens to reveal a pile of unmentionables.

You and Tangerine exchange a look of panic and all three of you make your way back onto the train.

Ladybug looks genuinely apologetic, "I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I-I have this bad luck thing, and I hit the thing -"

"Oh, is that what you call it?

You raise your hands with frustration, "What the absolute fuck was that?"

Ladybug winces, "I was trying to sell it. I was selling it."

"Well, I don’t think they were in the market for fucking dildos and pantyhose, were they?"

Ladybug snaps his fingers, "Ah, but… They were buying it."

There's a beat of silence. Then, Ladybug tries his hand at trying to convince you and Tangerine to get off the train. He talks about wanting to visit a temple or something. Your mind's on other things, like the fact that if you don't find that damn briefcase, the White Death is going to be all but merciful.

Tangerine seems to be on the same wavelength, "It’s a bit of a conundrum, really, ’cause, you know, I’m thinking, do I hand him back in one piece or do I chop you up into little pieces and stuff you inside a fucking Momomon or not? That’s what’s going through my head right now."

"Or..."

Tangerine frowns, "Oh, what? You got a better idea, do ya?"

"You know, before us now is just a wall, but it’s an illusion, man. It’s a construct. You know, ’cause within that wall sits a window. A window of opportunity. Damn it, it’s a door. It’s… Within that wall is a door."

You blink in confusion whispering, "What the fuck..."

Tangerine rolls his eyes and gives a look that says, "Is this guy serious?"

He squints and gestures, "I’m finding it very hard to follow this story."

Something changes in Ladybug's expression, "My point is, that door is closing."

Before you can even react, Ladybug is kicking Tangerine onto the platform outside the train door, which closes before you can step out. You punch the door's window with frustration with a look of anguish, watching Tangerine's beautiful surprised and angered face pass you by, "Damn it!"

You turn backwards slowly and Ladybug's smile immediately fades upon seeing your expression. 'Cause if looks could fucking kill.

Ladybug backs away, "Listen, lady-"

"It's Peach," you growl, anger evident on your face. You approach Ladybug with your arms at the ready.

"Right. I'm sorry about your boyfriend. It's nothing personal-"

"He's not my boyfriend."

Ladybug stops himself and frowns in confusion, "Really?"

You feel your face heat up and not only with anger.

As you stride forward, fists clenched and fury ablaze, Ladybug backpedals, "You're sure?"

You land a punch on Ladybug. "Yes, goddamn it!"

"Okay, well I've got a great therapist for this sort of thing - fuck!"

You kick him in the groin.

He winces, "Ow! Working through your buried feelings of admiration might help. Maybe-"

"Shut up!"

"Maybe if you just talked to him. 'Cause I'm sure he feels the same way."

"What?"

You pause and try to conceal your surprise before shoving him against the luggage rack.

He groans in pain yet looks at you thoughtfully, "You really haven't noticed?"

"Noticed what?!" You shout, waving your arms with confusion.

"God, Lemon was right about you two. You're both oblivious as all hell," Ladybug mutters. "He's clearly in love with you."

All of a sudden, you hear a crash from the nearby train cart, where Tangerine and Ladybug had been fighting earlier.

Ladybug takes advantage of your distraction and bashes his head into yours. You falter backwards and your vision blurs. Ladybug runs off in the other direction. You hear him yell from a distance: "Just talk to him!"

"Fucking insect," you grumble, bringing your hand towards your head.

With what little balance you possess, you stumble into the adjacent train cart and spot a sight for fucking sore eyes. It's Tangerine. He's panting, bleeding, and covered in shards of glass, but you've never been so happy to see him in your life.

"Tangerine!"

You run towards him eagerly, and he looks up at you, disoriented and with curls bouncing, the gel in his hair having worn off. This man looked handsome in every state.

You help him to his feet, brushing off the pieces of glass that stick to his clothing.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?"

He looks a bit dazed at the sight of you, "I'm alright, love."

You can't help but hug him tightly, your eyes watering as you ramble. His arms wrap around your waist with just as much fervor, like he's clinging onto you for dear life.

"I thought I lost you," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

Tangerine squeezes you tightly, his warmth enveloping you like a protective shield. "I'm not going anywhere, Peach. Not without you."

You loosen your grip on him and brush the glass out of his hair. "I was about to murder Ladybug after he pushed you off the train! And he kept on talking, over and over again. About his wild ideas about you and I. Something about Lemon and us being oblivious. Oh, I don't know..."

"Go on."

You retract your hand from his hair and he seems almost disappointed at the loss of touch. "Well, it's nothing..."

There's a mischievous glint in Tangerine's eyes, but he also looks hopeful, like he's been waiting ages for what you're about to say.

"Don't keep secrets, now, darlin'," he says, calloused hands caressing your face.

You feel heat rise in your cheeks and your hands fall to his chest, his heart beating quicky under your palms, "Well, he might have said you're in love with me," you admit, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Tangerine's expression softens, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of relief and something else you can't quite place.

"I am, Peach," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've been in love with you since the moment we fucking met."

God, this man... Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a rush of warmth spread through you like wildfire.

"I love you too, Tangerine," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

His lips meet yours fiercely and its absolute bliss. His mustache tickles your lips, but it's a nice feeling. It's familiar. It's him.

As Tangerine's lips press against yours with a fervor born of longing and passion. His hands move to cup your face, his touch gentle yet possessive as he deepens the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance. You revel in the taste of him, his cologne mingled with the sweat and adrenaline of the chaos around you.

His lips move hungrily against yours, his kisses growing more urgent with each passing moment as if trying to convey all the love and longing he's kept bottled up inside for so long. And you respond in kind, matching his passion with your own, your hands roaming freely over his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

He presses against you and you moan with pleasure. You've wanted this man for so long. His hands trickle down your back and you feel chills. The things you want him to do to you.

As you come up for air, you gaze into his eyes, bright and passionate. Tangerine looks youthful, free almost. He has a decisive look about him, "Forget the case. We're finding Lemon and getting the fuck off this train."

He bites your earlobe and whispers, "And then I'm going to absolutely ravish you."

You giggle as he kisses you on the cheek, takes your hand, and leads you down the train. Besides the blood and disheveled look he had about him, you wouldn't have thought that he had just punched his way onto a bullet train. You thought you had lost him, and yet here you were.

Fuck the case. You two would find Lemon. You three would get off the train and find a cozy hotel. Things were going to be okay.

Tagged those who might be interested! Hope that's alright 🥹

@little-miss-dilf-lover @sebsbarnes @kino-rogers @tangerinesgf

#bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train tangerine #ladybug bullet train #lemon bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine fluff #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine fic #tangerine x you #bullet train ladybug #bullet train maria

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fandomxpreferences · 2 years

Text

Let Me Love You

Pairing: Rooster x female!reader

TW: swearing, sad brad, angst with a happy ending (for the love of god we need some happy rooster, this man is endlessly tortured)

Summary: Bradley has been dealt a shitty hand in life, and he's determined to protect himself from getting hurt again. Everything is turned upside down when you blow into his life looking like everything he swears he doesn't want. (Based off this request)

Word Count:2.3k

A/N: Apparently im incapable of keeping it short and sweet. I have no idea how this happened, I didn't even know what direction I was going to take it and next think I know I have this so enjoy

Bradley Bradshaw didn't do relationships. It was a universally accepted fact by everyone that knew him. After seeing the way his dad's death destroyed his mother, he decided he could never do that to someone he loves. He accepted his fate, resigning himself to a life with no wife or kids.

When his mom got sick, he came home and took care of her until she passed. If there was ever a glimmer of hope that he would one day have the white picket fence and perfect family, it died with her. The only person left that he could count on was his Uncle Maverick. Then he pulled his papers from the academy. Bradley was left alone in the world, scrambling to find a way to fix the gaping hole that was blown into his future. Trust didn't come easily to him after that.

He'd had a few girlfriends scattered throughout his life, if you could call them that. They were more like flings that lasted a few months before he shipped off to another part of the world, never looking back. He knew it could never become something real. He was the love them and leave them type, and he was okay with that. Can't miss what you never had, right?

His mom had always kept his dad's memory alive, sharing stories of their love. Bradley couldn't wrap his head around how his mom never so much as looked at another man after his father's passing. No one would have blamed her. But she insisted that Nick Bradshaw had been it for her. Their brief time together was better than anything she would ever get from a lifetime with someone else. He never understood what she meant. Until he met you.

From the second Bradley's eyes landed on you, he knew you were going to rip through his life like a hurricane. You had waltzed into the hangar that day with a heart-stopping smile. You were one of only two women in his Top Gun class and he could immediately see why. There was an air of confidence about you. Your hair was neatly styled, your shoulders back and head held high. He felt time stand still, and for the first time in his life, he wondered if he had been wrong all those years. You met his gaze, and he saw his entire future in your eyes. Maybe he did want someone to come home to.

He kept his distance the first few days, observing from afar. You were an extraordinary pilot. He was in awe watching you in the air. Your instincts were razor sharp and you flew your aircraft as if it was an extension of your own body. You were always two steps ahead, somehow anticipating what your opponent would do before they seemed to know themself. You flew extremely fast and loved to show off, yet you were remarkably precise and calculated. It made you a formidable rival. Bradley could never understand how you could just let go and trust your intuition.

On the ground, you managed to be self-assured but kind. You could hold your own when provoked but had a laid-back and fun personality otherwise. Everyone seemed to like you without trying. You were easy to be around and made everyone feel like a part of the conversation. Your energy was magnetic and Bradley could feel himself getting pulled in.

You were the only woman he ever felt himself wanting to break his own rules for. He found himself jealous of everyone who got to interact with you. His fists clenched when one of the other pilots managed to draw out a laugh and his body tingled whenever he saw your smile. You were dangerous, and he knew if he wasn't careful he would fall in love with you. Little did he know, it was already too late.

From that point on, he avoided interacting with you unless in the air. If he did find himself in your presence, he was cold and shut off. You were never one to make enemies and didn't understand why he hated you. You had barely spoken to the man. You didn't get too hung up on it, letting his comments and attitude roll off your back. It went on like this for your entire time at Top Gun, and anytime you crossed paths for the next couple of years. Eventually, it hit a boiling point.

You've been assigned to the same mission as Bradley, and the two of you have been paired up. You're drowning your sorrows at the bar on base, keeping your distance from Bradley a few seats down from you. You feel him shooting daggers at you and decide you've had enough. You stand and march towards him, stopping a couple feet away and crossing your arms.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Your face is hot from a mixture of alcohol and anger. He shoots you a glance and scoffs. "I don't have a problem." He shrugs, and you roll your eyes.

"Bullshit, Bradshaw. You've hated me since we were in Top Gun." Your eyes narrow and Bradley can't help but think you're cute when you're mad. He'd never admit it but his heart was racing, excited to talk to you even if you were chewing him out.

He looks at you fully and his heart drops when he sees tears in your eyes. Shit. He never meant to make you cry. Truthfully, he didn't think you had noticed him enough to be able to elicit any type of response in the first place. His face softens and he sets his beer down.

"I don't hate you." His voice is soft, but you hear him crystal clear. You shrink into yourself, your liquid confidence dwindling. Bradley has never seen you so timid and he mentally curses himself for being the cause of it. "Then why are you always mean to me?" You ask with a small voice.

He avoids eye contact and crosses his arms. He's too drunk for this. "Because you scare me." He admits. "I don't like getting close to people, and I wouldn't be able to help myself."

After his confession that night three years ago, your relationship changed. He slowly opened up, telling you all his most safely guarded secrets. You were best friends, one of you never far from the other.

Bradley knew he was in love with you, but he also knew the two of you could never be together. You didn't feel that way about him and even if you did, he was determined to never let himself have the life he so craved with you. He was okay with keeping his feelings to himself if it meant protecting you.

What the sandy-haired idiot didn't realize, was that you were head over heels for him too. It killed you to know you couldn't have more with Bradley. He had told you his reasoning for never wanting a serious relationship or family. You couldn't blame him, even if you did want to smack him in the back of the head for making choices based on a hypothetical situation instead of the very real one standing right in front of him.

So that's how your relationship worked. Both of you decided that it was better to have each other as friends, than not at all. Which is what brings you to your current predicament.

You and Rooster are sitting across from each other on his couch. Every Friday you two order takeout and stay up watching shitty reality shows, but tonight you decided to add alcohol. You've both had a bit too much to drink, no longer paying any attention to the re-run playing on the tv.

You'd been thumb wrestling, the sounds of your giggles mixing and filling the room. All of a sudden, Bradley pulled back and got a serious look on his face. You had laughed and asked him if he was okay, but he didn't respond. It's been several minutes since either of you has talked, Bradley looking deep in thought.

You're about to ask again when he looks up at you. Your heart squeezes when you see unshed tears on his water line. You don't say anything, silently reaching out to grab his hand and run your thumb across his knuckles. If you thought your heart hurt before, what he says to you leaves it shattered on the floor.

"Everyone I've ever cared for has either died or left me. Except for you." A tear falls off his face and you reach forward to cup his cheek. It's a drunken moment of vulnerability, but you know the sentiment is real. You silently wonder how long he's been carrying that thought in his heart.

His large hand holds yours in place, and you realize your hand is completely enveloped in his. Your stomach does a flip when you feel how warm he is, and you can't help but notice how they fit together like puzzle pieces.

"Look at me," you say and his eyes meet yours. "I will never leave you, Bradley." Before you have time to think it through, you lean forward and press your mouths together. His lips are softer than you expected, and electricity shoots through you. It's like a ball of fire explodes in your chest, sending warmth all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

The second you make contact, Bradley is kissing you back. The two of you are chest to chest, lips moving in sync like you've done this a million times. Your bliss is cut short when Bradley launches backward as if he's been shot. He quickly stands and turns his back to you, running his hands through his hair.

You stay on the couch and watch him pace. You should feel embarrassed, but all you can think about is how you want to hold the broken man in front of you until he's whole again. You know you can't go back to the way things were after tonight. Your voice is soft, and Bradley stops dead in his tracks when he hears you. "I'm in love with you."

"Don't," he starts. You can hear in his voice that he's sobered up significantly. "You're not in love with me. Please, tell me you’re not in love with me. I'm not going to be able to pretend anymore. Please, let me pretend." He whimpers.

You stand and walk towards him, stopping only a few inches away. You already know what he means, but you open your mouth to ask anyway. He gives you a pleading look, silently begging you not to continue.

"Pretend what, Bradley?" His eyes screw shut and heavy tears stain his cheeks. He takes a deep breath before opening his eyes to look at you. "That I'm not in love with you too." He shakes his head and steps around you to sit back on the couch.

His head drops into his hands and he continues. "If I let myself imagine a life with you, I'm too selfish to stop myself. I can't leave you like my dad left my mom. I can't leave anyone to mourn me." He sobs.

You kneel in front of him and gently bring his face up where you can see it. "It's too late." You're crying now too and Bradley feels his heart break even further.

"I decided a long time ago that loving you is worth the risk of losing you. Please, let me love you." You choke out.

"What if you're not the one coming home to an empty house? If I let myself love you and you're taken from me too, I don't think I'll survive." He admits.

The only thing scarier to him than never coming home to you is the thought of you never coming home to him. He never thought he'd fall for another pilot and have to face the idea that he may be the one left heartbroken.

You place your forehead against his and close your eyes. "If god forbid something happens to me, I don't want to spend my last moments not knowing what it feels like to be loved by you. There's always a chance of something happening. What if we grow old and realize we missed a life full of love, because of fear? You keep asking what if something happens, but have you ever thought to ask what if something doesn't?"

Bradley feels his resolve crumble. He knows that pretending he doesn't love you isn't going to make it hurt any less if he loses you. You're right, he'd rather mourn you knowing what it feels like to love you. What it feels like to kiss you, wake up beside you, have you trembling beneath him. He thinks about how it would feel to spend the rest of his life having to wonder and realizes how cruel it would be to sentence you to the same fate if something happens to him.

In a split second, Bradley's entire world shifts. He lurches forward and his lips meet yours in a bruising kiss. His broad arms wrap around you and pull you up into his lap. You don't hesitate to kiss back, tangling your hands in his mop of curls and pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck. He licks your bottom lip and you part your mouth to allow him access. His tongue massages yours and he internally scolds himself when he realizes he could have been doing this all along.

You pull back after a couple minutes, gasping for air. Bradley lays down, pulling you with him. The two of you stay like this, hearts and minds racing. There's a comfortable silence as you process what this means.

Neither of you feels the need to say anything, there's a mutual understanding that everything just changed. You both know that everything could be ripped from your hands in a matter of seconds, but you don't care. You're his and he's yours. Nothing else matters.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #Bradley Bradshaw topgun #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster angst #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun angst

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siempre-bucky · 2 years

Text

Matchmakers

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: As soon as you and Benedict locked eyes, Gregory and Hyacinth knew you were smitten with one another. Now, the youngest of the Bridgertons are bound and determined to get you two together.

wc: 3.4k

A/N: thank you so much for requesting Anon! I fell in love with this as soon as you sent it to me. Sorry, it took so long. I'm hella sick and wrote the second half while delirious but please enjoy ♡

Being one of the 8 Bridgerton children had its perks amongst the ton, first invites to fabulous parties, lines of established suitors, and a good education. Yet, the greatest perk was only bestowed amongst the 8; the uncanny ability to see a love match.

This ability formed in even the youngest Bridgertons. Hyacinth and Gregory saw true love the moment you and Benedict locked eyes one fateful morning in the day room.

You sat in the pale blue day room beside Hyacinth, tucking your pencil behind your ear as you showed her how to draw the vibrant green plant sitting on the table in front of you. You were the newest tutor to enter the world of the Bridgerton family, a talented artist who was bound to teach the youngest all you knew. Hyacinth was completely smitten with you, attached at the hip whenever you were around.

Benedict entered the room with Gregory on his tail, jokingly mimicking his older brother's walk. Hyacinth looked up and started to giggle at Benedict's mocking shadow. You softly grumbled at your student, nudging her with your elbow but she didn't budge. With a roll of your eyes, you glanced in the direction of the source.

A breath got caught in your throat at the sight of the tall brunet man in the cream-colored waistcoat. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, better than any portrait in the most famous galleries, and certainly better than the men you drew from imagination. You couldn't help the soft amused giggles that escaped you while Gregory mocked Benedict's movements.

Benedict huffed and looked directly at his baby sister and the tutor he'd never met. His stone face completely crumbled at the softness of your face, the way the apples of your cheeks lifted as you tried to mask your smile with your hand. "Hello," he exhaled, every word he had ever learned suddenly escaped him as he looked at you.

"Hello," you smiled softly, the background fading so he was the only thing in focus.

"I do not believe we've had the honor of meeting."

Shoving the drawing pad into Hyacinth's lap you rose quickly and smoothed out your dress, much to the youngest Bridgerton's protest. "Y/N L/N, Miss Hyacinth's drawing tutor."

Benedict paused. His lips formed a bright boyish smile, an artist, he thought gleefully to himself. Benedict bowed his head and finally managed to speak, "It is a pleasure Miss Y/N. Benedict Bridgerton."

While the two of you stared at each other longingly in a quaint silence, Hyacinth and Gregory peered around and looked at each other with knowing wide eyes. They had seen this look before; the one where they viewed the other like they were the only ones in the room as if they were the most beautiful thing to grace the earth. They saw it when Anthony and Daphne viewed their partners, Violet had once mentioned that it was the look of true love. It was true love! A pure love match! Even if the two artists didn't see it, they were determined to match them.

Later in the evening, Hyacinth pulled Gregory aside, dragging him into one of the many unoccupied rooms. "Ouch!" Gregory whined after his shoulder roughly brushed against the doorframe. "What is your problem, sister?" he huffed as he finally writhed free of her surprisingly strong grasp.

"We must get Miss Y/N and Benedict to fall in love," she answered in a hushed tone. The maids knew everything.

"Are we sure they like each other?" the curly-haired boy mused, "They only met once... it might have been a mistake- the way they looked at each other. I me-"

"They do!" she interrupted.

Gregory paced the floor, placing his hands behind his back as he thought. Hyacinth cracked a smile, it was something similar to what Anthony did when he pondered over something. "I got it!" he exclaimed happily.

Her ears instantly perked up.

"I will need a book."

A week later, you sat with Hyacinth in the day room along with her family, struggling to keep focused. You were too preoccupied with watching Daphne harass Benedict about his painting. He defended his work so proudly, laughing as he swiped blue paint on her cheek.

He looked over and met your amused stare, wiping his hand on the handkerchief sticking out of his pants pocket. Benedict smiled at you bashfully and returned to his work. You desperately wanted to convince yourself that he was blushing because of you.

The youngest Bridgertons looked up at each other and smirked. Gregory nodded and swiped his nose with his forefinger as a signal. "I have decided who my favorite poet is," Gregory loudly announced, earning the attention of the room.

Violet placed her embroidery hoop in her lap and smiled at her son, "And who might that be, dearest?"

"Byron!"

The room fell silent, confused faces replaced the amusing ones. "Byron?" You and Benedict shout at the same time.

"He's awful!" Benedict shuttered.

"A terrible excuse for a romantic poet," you add.

The family shifted their gaze between you and Benedict as you fell into your own little world. Ignoring the fact that there were other people in the room, you and Benedict went on and on. He placed his paintbrush down and made his way over to the snack table, and without skipping a beat he plucked a fruit from the platter and carried on with his rant.

It appeared that phase one of the operation was complete! Benedict was smitten with you. Gregory and Hyacinth nodded at each other with proud smiles adorning their faces. It was time for phase two: get the other to admit feelings.

"Mama," Hyacinth sighed a few days later.

You once again joined the family in the day room, drawing over Hyacinth's work in between stealing glances at Benedict.

"Yes, dear."

"Could Miss Y/N join us on our promenade this afternoon? I would love to learn how to paint the pond."

"Well, that would be up to her."

"Miss Y/N," Hyacinth tapped your leg, finally pulling your attention away from Benedict.

"Y-yes? I'm so sorry, I lost focus. What was that, dear?"

"Promenade with us!" She gleefully asked of you.

You hid the warmth of your cheeks by turning to look out the window at the cloud-covered sun, "I would love to."

You had quickly fallen in love with the large family. Watching them laugh and joke with one another as you all walked along the stone path of Hyde Park. Normally you would have felt like a sore thumb dressed in your pale sand-colored dress, one made of cotton and not the fancy fabrics from the modiste, but they all made you feel like you belonged. You wondered if Benedict liked what you wore, he didn't seem like the type of man who judged a girl based on her fabrics.

Hyacinth held your hand as she skipped along the path, her brown curls bouncing with each step. "Do not forget we came to paint," you reminded her as you broke off from the rest of the family.

She rolled her eyes dramatically and let go of your hand, only to swirl around in circles. "I did not forget," she grumbled as she stopped, "relax and enjoy the park...and the view?"

You turned your head, Benedict and Gregory were a good distance behind you, tossing their snacks in the grass for the eager birds. You hummed softly to yourself before returning your attention to your student. Why was she smirking like that? "I assure you that I am. The view is...lovely."

"I heard something the other day," she spoke quickly returning to your side, looping her arm around yours. "Did you know that boys let girls know they like them by tugging on their hair?"

You chucked, "Oh Hyacinth, that is for children. Do not believe everything the other children say," you lectured her, trying to ignore the buzzing near your ear.

It was easy to tune her out from the pesky buzzing. Your hand rose to swat at the back of your head but nothing you did got it to stop. Furrowing your eyebrows, you halted and shook your head in hopes to rid of the bug introducing your space. "You annoying little," you hissed, "ouch!"

You felt a strong tug on the back of your hair, one of your curls falling from its confines. You whipped around to see Benedict's surprised expression, caught red-handed, his hand still close to your form. "Y/N..." he gulped.

"Y-you pulled my hair," your voice faltered as you accused him, your mind instantly reminding you of what Hyacinth said. But that wasn't true, at least not for grown adults. Boys didn't pull on girls' hair to show affection, it was all made up for children.

"I did," he admitted, "there was a bug! I Promise I meant no harm... there was a bug." You fought back a giggle amidst your astonishment as he flashed you his palm before rubbing the residue off on the side of his pants.

"Well then," you hummed, tucking your hair back in place, "Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton. I am lucky you were around to save me from a bug."

He smiled and took a step closer, "I would save you from all of them if given the chance, Miss."

"Very noble of you."

"Shall I protect you from the ones down by the water? Join in on your painting lesson, I'm sure you could teach us a thing or two?" He wrapped his arm around Gregory and pulled him close to his side.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his offer. "I would enjoy that, and I'm sure Hyacinth loves having her brothers partake in her lessons."

Benedict bid his farewell and hurried Gregory along to fetch his painting kit. While you were dazed and confused, standing frozen in your spot, Hyacinth took her opportunity. "Miss Y/N, do you have feelings for my older brother?" She asked bluntly, her grin rising high on her cheeks.

"I do," you whispered, barely audibly, and placed your fist over your heaving chest. Suddenly realizing what you had admitted to and who you admitted it to, you looked at her with a stern glare. "You tell anyone Hyacinth and I swear I will have you sharpen every pencil in England. Twice."

Hyacinth bounced over and held your hand with her fingers gently curling around yours, "Cross my heart... and to be honest, I wanted another sister."

A few days passed and Benedict found his new favorite spot at the window ceil of the day room. He sat with a pencil stuck behind his ear leaving a charcoal mark above his dark brow. His eyes lingered at the lawn of the backyard where you sat on a picnic blanket with Franchesca, giggling while Hyacinth drew the scene.

The second-born had become completely enamored by your presence, consumed by your talent and matching wit. Of course, he thought you were beautiful, a masterpiece that couldn’t be captured by the masters themselves. You inspired him, y-

“-Benedict!” Gregory’s airy voice finally cut through.

Benedict released a small puff of air through his nose and turned to him, “What can I help you with?” he asked, trying to mask the frustration of the interruption.

Gregory pouted his lips and hopped onto the couch, groaning as the spine of Benedict’s sketchbook poked his back. He scrunched his face and pulled the book out from under him. “Just waiting for my Latin tutor,” Gregory told him simply.

The man rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the window and the woman outside it.

The boy took the opportunity to open the book, careful fingers silently turning the pages. Some of the cream-colored pages contained light-hearted doodles of flowers and his sibling's expressions, and some had drawings Benedict crossed out in black charcoal. A grin grew on his face when he found what he was looking for; pages and pages of detailed drawings of your face, your figure, and even a small corner filled with the pattern of one of your dresses. Benedict did that on occasion when he fancied a dress you wore, he’d draw you in it then draw the pattern so he could remember.

“What’s a muse, brother?” Gregory hummed.

Benedict scoffed lightly and bit down on his fingernail while his eyes followed your every move. “It is someone who is your inspiration. Gives you a desire to create your best work. Beautiful. Ethereal,” he responded dreamily, a boyish smile threatening to grace his lips.

“Like,” Gregory hummed and looked up at the white ceiling to fake like he was thinking, “Y/N?”

His heart sunk into the deepest part of his stomach, “You’re joking?” Benedict laughed. He whipped around and was caught red-handed as Gregory showed him his own drawings as evidence, the boy's lips curling upward in a large grin that caused his eyes to narrow.

“Is she your muse, brother?”

“Are you going to blackmail me if she was?” he hummed with a smirk, sauntering away from the window.

“No! You should be happy… like Anthony and Daphne are. Like mama…”

Putting his guard down, Benedict sat across from his younger brother and snatched the book out of his hand, shutting it with a loud clap. “She would make me very happy if you must know,” his demeanor shifted, face falling as reality set in, “she doesn’t feel the same.” He tossed the book onto the table with a loud thud.

The excitement was bubbling inside the rosy-cheeked boy at the confession, eagerly bouncing and springing from the couch. “I have to tend to my Latin,” he announced nervously, sprinting off towards the opened doors.

Racing down the stairs, he found his younger sister lying on the floor with a book pressed to her nose. “Hyacinth!” he called, reaching out to grip her hand.

She huffed and placed the book on her chest, “I was at the good part, Gregory!”

He tugged and tugged until the brunette finally reluctantly got off the cold floor. She smoothed out her dress before he dragged her into an empty room. After checking for maids he turned to her and released her arm. “Benedict admitted it! He loves her.”

Hyacinth grinned widely and hopped up and down for joy. “He’s going to tell her, isn’t he?”

Gregory shook his head solemnly, “He does not believe she feels same.”

“But she does!”

A silence fell over them as their brains got to work. “We should move on to phase three,” Gregory spoke after a while.

“Are you sure it will work, brother?”

“It must.”

Gregory entered the day room, a Latin book tucked under his clothed arm. He nodded at Hyacinth who sat on the couch, her drawing pad opened on her lap, charcoal pencil twirling between her thin fingers.

“I am terrible at Latin, why do you need my help?” Benedict wondered as he entered the room, annoyance written all over his face.

“Well… you helped Colin,” Gregory stumbled in his response as he sat down at the desk.

Benedict ruffled his hair, “He was a much better listener than you,” he laughed before hovering over him and opening the book.

“I’m so sorry I am late,” you huff a moment later, hurrying into the room. You panted as you placed your things beside the Bridgerton girl and moved the fallen hair out of your face.

Benedict felt like everything was moving in slow motion once your voice hit his ears and his eyes met your frame. He noticed every movement; how your face twinged as Hyacinth made a witty remark, how your dress ever so slightly lifted as you fixed your hair. He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on the edge of the book, nearly breaking the cover.

“Got lost in a painting again, Miss Y/N?” he smirked, regaining his composure.

You turned your head in his direction, placing your hands on your hips and feigning offense. “Very funny, Mr. Bridgerton… but yes I did.” You intoned, taking your spot next to your student. You were thankful that the Bridgerton’s couldn’t see the small smile that adored your features as you ducked your head.

“Miss Y/N,” Hyacinth spoke brightly.

“Yes, Hyacinth?” you matched her tone, taking her pencil out of her hand.

“I believe that I am ready for drawing two people interacting,” she told you confidently.

Pursing your lips, you looked through the pages of her book and analyzed her previous work. “Well,” you muse, scrunching your nose. “I believe we can do that.”

Hyacinth grinned and tucked her curls behind her ears, “You must be my model,” she insisted, pulling you up by your wrist. She placed you in the center of the room and skipped over to the two boys, “And Benedict can be my other model,” she grabbed him by the fabric surrounding his elbow and stood him next to you.

“I-is this necessary?” you asked her, rubbing your hands together anxiously, refusing to look at him.

“Since when did you get so strong?” Benedict asked in between laughs, looking down at his now wrinkled coat.

“Hush, both of you,” she huffed as she began to pose you. She placed one of his hands in yours, instantly igniting a fire on your skin. “There,” she murmured, adjusting you to face him with your free hand on his arm.

Without instruction, Benedict placed his hand on the small of your back, his fingertips tracing the floral embroidery. You heard the hitch in his breathing, your eyes flickering upward at his visibly clenched jaw. “Hello,” he chuckled.

“I apologize for her, I do not know what has gotten into her,” you sighed.

“I should be the one apologizing. She’s my sister after all,” he told you, shaking his head.

“Stay still,” Hyacinth scolded as she scurried off towards the couch. She moved her drawing pad and examined the couch. “Gregory, have you seen my kit?” she asked.

Gregory perked his ears and looked up from his book, “Why no sister I have not,” he replied overdramatically, making you and Benedict knit your eyebrows.

“Help me find it would you? It might be in the hallway,” she guessed, matching her brother's dramatics.

“Of course,” Gregory all but slammed his book shut and hurried out of the room, his giggling sister on his tail.

You stood in the center of the now lonely room, Benedict's hand still pressed to your lower back. You felt every twitch of his fingers pressing into your back and on the smooth skin of your hand. "Benedict," you breathe, finally meeting his eyes. He was so handsome up close, the mixture of his cologne and earthy charcoal intoxicated your senses.

"It appears my siblings are quite troublesome," Benedict chuckled, turning his head to view the empty hall just outside the room.

"They did this on purpose," you sighed as you realized what was happening here.

"Are you upset?" he asked you hesitantly.

"Quite the opposite," you chuckled.

A warmth instantly graced your features as his face slowly got closer. Your breaths mixed, timid eyes meeting and too scared to look away. "Y/N..." he trailed off, exhaling shallowly.

Leaning forward, your pounding chest met his, allowing your hearts to beat in a perfectly chaotic rhythm. "Benedict..." you whispered, your nose brushed his, but he didn't move away. He stayed there, his hands gripping you a little tighter as if he was telling you to stay.

"Is this what you want?" he asked.

"This is what I've wanted since the day we met."

The man sighed with relief, cracking a smile. He finally captured your lips, his hands gently holding the sides of your face as if you were the most delicate thing in the world. "Do you have feelings for me, Miss Y/N?" he asked playfully as he pulled away.

You giggled and placed your hands on his chest, "I do very much."

"You know... I heard Paris in the spring is wonderful for painting outside."

You laughed, "Are you asking me to run away with you, Benedict?"

"We must finish our lessons! You cannot run away together yet," Hyacinth scoffed as she emerges from the doorway, Gregory murmuring complaints from behind.

"Well then," you hum, looking around Benedict to look at the younger Bridgertons, "How about painting in the park instead?"

"Deal," the three agreed in unison, Benedict's arms wrapping lovingly around your waist.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x f!reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic

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rqgnarok · 10 months

Note

request: jamie x actress reader!

love your writing 💚

this turned out to be more a lil angstier that i expected but y'all KNOW ME

"You're nervous."

Jamie jumps, bow tie unmade and tangled in his fingers. "I- no. No, what? 'm not."

"Jay," your voice drips with sympathy, tilting your head to the side as you put on your earring. "I told you, you don't have to come if you don't want to. We don't have to do this if we're not ready."

This being announcing your relationship to the world. Somehow you'd managed to keep it lowkey, this thing between you, only your families and closest friends (and the entirety of AFC Richmond, of course) aware of how happy you and Jamie were in a relationship with each other.

But now both your publicists have given you the green light and you've been sitting on the announcement for weeks, figuring out the best way to do it. It was a matter of luck, or maybe a little nudge from the universe, that the Emmys came around just before Jamie had to be back in England for preseason. It was all perfect, a little too good to be true.

Which is why you're threading lightly.

You still his shaking hands by taking them in yours, leaving the bowtie on the table, and kissing his knuckles. "You know, I still think an Instagram post isn't the worst idea. Have you gotten your password back from Keeley?"

"No," Jamie shakes his head firmly, expression determined even if some nervousness lingers underneath it. "No, angel, 'm ready. Promise. I wanna be there to snog your pants off when you win."

"If I win," you smile at his relentless faith in you and the picture he paints. You can't say you don't like the sound of that. "And I'm not wearing pants. And you haven't looked me in the eye since we started getting ready."

Jamie's jaw tightens in frustration, meeting your stare just to show you he can, even if he looks away too quickly. You say softly, "Baby, I'm serious. I know you support me whether you're there or not. Whatever you chose, we've got each other's backs. A hundred percent."

"'s not that," Jamie mutters, slipping closer so he can press a kiss to your forehead without disrupting your hair or your clothes. Your stylist would kill him if she saw anything out of place after it took hours to doll you up. "I want to, angel, 'course I want to. I just- you have to be sure."

"You frown, reaching for him when he goes to take a step back, keeping him close. "What, about coming out together?"

Jamie shrugs, small and dejected. "'bout us, more like."

Realization dawns on you like a horrible, cold splash of water to the face. "I am," you say slowly, hesitating. "...Aren't you?"

Jamie looks at you like you're insane. "Of course I am, that's not what I mean. But if- after we do this there's no going back for you. No more secrets. No more take backsies. Everyone'll know."

"Take backsies," you scoff, glam be damned you cup his face in your hands and get real close.

"Honey," you say, soft and fierce all the same. "Look at me. Are you looking at me?"

"Yes, coach," he teases, and you barely refrain from flicking him on the forehead.

"I'm sure," you say and mean it. Falling in love with Jamie happened effortlessly but it was every day that you chose to be with him, a decision you haven't even thought of regretting. "You were never meant to be a secret, Jamie. And if I did something to make you think that was my intention-"

He cuts you off with a kiss, his previous restraint gone. Some things are more important than composure, you suppose.

He draws back, breathless, holding your chin in his hand and thumbing at the corner of your mouth where your lipstick is probably smudged. "You're perfect. 'm just being dumb, baby, I know you love me. I want you to be happy, 's all."

You frown. "It's not dumb if it upsets you."

"And I promise to talk about it tomorrow," he says as solemnly as you know Jamie's capable of being before he surges to kiss you again with the energy you usually associate with him.

"But tonight we're celebrating you. And every single one of those statue things we're taking home with us. Let's go knock 'em dead, sweetheart."

#if this feels ooc no it doesn't <3 #im kidding lmao i do feel a little rusty for the week i stopped writing tbh but i needed to give yall SOMETHING before delicate #hope you like!#leo replies #anon ask #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso

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hellfiresmaster · 1 year

Note

if you’re asking for requests i think we need more eddie smut where he’s obsessed w reader’s boobs… maybe he hasn’t even seen boobs irl before or maybe he’s just never got to touch

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 846

Warnings: established but also kind of new relationship, innocent eddie, well hes never seen tits before, he's just curious, slight smut references but nothing serious

Eddie tapped away on his notebook as he sat across from you in his cluttered bedroom. The sound of the AC was bustling and struggling to fill the cramped space with cool air, but it wasn't the inevitable summer heat that was bothering him. Eddie was shifting uncomfortably in his chair for an entirely different reason.

The image of you lying on your stomach across his bed with a D&D book flat and open before you as you innocently flipped through the various drawings mesmerized him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and felt his breathing quicken as you leaned forward slightly, giving him a better view of your chest. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to shove his face in your tits and never come up. Worship them, suffocate between them until he died a happy man.

Eddie tried to focus on the unplanned campaign before him. But it was useless. Every single one of this thoughts consumed with one thing. Your tits. The way they'd look kneaded in his hands, laved and littered in marks as a reminder of his claim on you. Eddie shuddered at the thought, feeling like a gross pervert just knowing how worked up he was over you, mindlessly pressing your tits together and gawking whenever you threatened to spill out of your shirt. How were you supposed to know that your decision to wear a low-cut top on a scorching day would make him want to bust in his pants at any moment. Eddie was suddenly very grateful for the leather journal on his lap, concealing how hard he was growing in his jeans.

"Eds? Everything alright?" Humiliation washed over him when he realized you were following his line of sight to your chest, making you smirk. "Eddie Munson, are you staring at my tits?" Eddie visibly tensed at the accusation; although true, he couldn't bear the sound of it out loud. What if you hated him for it? What if you never wanted to come over or see him again, all because he was being a sick fucking pervert who couldn't keep it in his pants? He couldn't fathom the thought. With your gaze burning a hole right through him, he knew there was no denying it now. He knew you were never one to shy away from anything like that. If there's anything Eddie learned about you in the time you'd been dating, there was scarcely a filter on that mouth of yours.

"All you had to do was ask, baby." You watched as he became frantic and clutched the chair beneath him. Eddie's heart hammered in his chest, and his hands felt clammy against his bouncing knee. You could tell he was lost in his own thoughts as he pursed his lip. On the other hand, you were determined to take matters into your own hands. Carefully, you set the book to the side and situated yourself on the bed, kneeling at the edge of it before pulling at the hem of your shirt and swiping it over your head. Eddie felt himself twitch in his already constricting jeans. He strained to commit everything to memory, each of your tits cupped perfectly in a simple black satin bra he'd gotten glimpses of so many times before. He had to stop himself from lunging toward you and ravaging them.

"Should I take this off?" You gestured towards your bra as Eddie's chest puffed in and out with labored breaths, processing every piece of skin exposed to him before he interrupted.

"Um, ca-can I?" Eddie shakily responded as he rose from the chair and cautiously approached you. You nodded up at him, his musk and the scent of weed invading your senses, when you felt his trembling hand behind you, struggling to unclip your bra and remove it with inexperienced fingers. You could've sworn you saw Eddie's eye pop out of his head, his mouth drying at the sight of your tits baring before him.

"They're perfect." Was all he could muster. Eddie felt lightheaded; he was sure he could feel every drop of blood in his body rush straight to his cock.

"Yeah?" Your mouth curved into a smile when you felt him cup your face with one hand and run a thumb along your cheek.

"Yeah. C-can I?" You nodded as Eddie's fingers lightly traced along your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your nipples pebbled as his hands skimmed over the sides of your tits, taking his time to memorize every curve before you felt him cup the supple flesh. The chill of his rings and the warmth of his palm made you arch your back and lean further into him. With every touch and feel, Eddie became more and more confident, drawing out sounds from you he'd never heard before. His breath hitched as he kneaded one tit and then moved on to the other. Eddie was addicted. He wanted to record every single sound and whimper and replay it in his mind forever.

Mini Tag List: @wetwilliam02 @wickedmystery @hellfire1986baby @sweet-beliefs @courtneymaisy @pillowpascal @roanniom (let me know if you'd like to be added)

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #joseph quinn

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tunglo · 9 months

Text

repost of an old blog post for my new Ken era...

Today [March 13th] is Ken Day! Kenneth Sean "Ken" Carson first hit store shelves in 1961 and, in a move that preceded reality TV by a decade or three, we all got to watch as Barbie met the man of her dreams.

Since then Ken has gone through almost as many incarnations as Barbie herself and had over 40 different careers. In celebration of all that fantastic plastic, here are just ten of the top Ken dolls produced over the years...

The 'fun' of shaving Ken has been a staple of his repertoire over the years; there are versions from 1996, 1999, 2010, and 2019.

But, as ever, it's the original that's best. Here is 1979's Sport & Shave Ken. Not only did he come with this spiffing tennis outfit, he also had a shaving mug, two 'razors', and a marker pen of your very own to draw on Ken's facial hair...

According to the brochure: "It's Ken with a whole new look for the 1980s. He's athletic. He's all man."

Indeed.

Cool Times Ken.

Never has a name been quite so misleading.

There's a reason Pixar went with this Ken era for the Toy Story movies, and it certainly wasn't because of Ken's close relationship with the concept of cool.

Sometimes your problem is not that Ken has too much facial hair. It's that he just doesn't have enough. Luckily 1972's Mod Hair Ken had you covered. The same idea was utilised again in 1975 for The Now Look Ken, except this time around his hair was longer to capture the true essence of mid 70s cool.

Ken has been a doctor many times - 1963, 1992, 1995, 1996, 1997, 2011, 2018 - but 1987's offering beats the rest hands down. Not only is Ken a doctor, but you can fold the lapels of his shiny nylon medical coat down and he's ready for a night of wining and dining!

What a doll.

What more can I say?

According to Keeping Ken, this shot with Wedding Day Alan was an official Mattel postcard

In 1993 Mattel redesigned Ken to fulfil little girls' requests that Barbie's beau be cooler. Ken was now so cool he was attracting interest from all quarters, including the US gay community who were sure Ken's cock ring necklace came straight - heh - from the club scene. As a result Earring Magic Ken sold out for Christmas '93, and remains the best selling Ken doll of all time in spite of Mattel discontinuing and recalling the doll once they realised Ken's secret was out of the closet...

In 2010 Mattel released Sugar Daddy Ken, so named - they say - because he owns a little dog called Sugar.

Hmmm.

Back in 2004, just in time for Valentine's Day, Barbie ditched Ken in favour of Australian surfer dude, Blaine. Blaine O'Hare - or at least his face sculpt - began life in 1998 when Totally Yo-Yo Skipper was initially set to gain a new friend called Zach. Though he never actually made it into production, his features were used for 1999's Generation Girl Dance Party Blaine.

The Generation Girl line followed Barbie's time at high school in NYC, introducing a variety of new friend dolls and spawning another Blaine in 2000. When he returned in 2004 Blaine had wisely dropped the 'curtains' hairstyle and traded in New York for California. In this continuity the pair met through Blaine's younger sister, Summer, who was good friends with Barbie.

In fact, voting was held through the Barbie.com website to determine who Cali Girl Barbie ought to go for - Ken, Blaine, long time pal Steven, another newcomer named Diego, or stay single. We all know how that went. Ken went away to lick his wounds for a couple of years, but in 2006 he was back with a new look. It wasn't enough for Barbie to take him back though and the pair remained 'just good friends' until another PR campaign saw them get back together in 2011.

The Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse webseries is awesome.

Launched in May 2012, it pokes fun at the entire Barbie mythos and did more to give Ken a personality than any other Mattel project. We learn that Ken loves inventing, is addicted to sherbet, and suffers from Hyper Cuteness Sensitivity Disorder...

This year Ken is finally taking control of his own destiny. Well. His own laundry, at any rate...

#ken #barbie

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basiccortez · 2 years

Text

Baby Series ~ 1st Ultrasound

note: I have extreme baby fever rn and Oliver Reed (rip young legend) reading to children did not help. And thanks so much for almost 200 reads on my fic 'Home'.

REQUESTS OPEN

also. . . don't be shy to message me or send me asks. I want to interact more with my followers and mutuals!!

warnings: some choice words

Josh:

You hated doctors offices. You couldn’t remember the last time you were in one. The looked around the small waiting room, filled with women at various stages of their pregnancies. Some looked like they were about to pop, and some who were barely showing. You looked over at Josh, who was deep in thought in a parenting magazine.

“Do you have a birthing plan?” Josh asked you.

“Haven’t even thought that far,” You said, “I picture myself having a natural birth. Surrounded in my own home among the people who love and care for both me and the baby,”

“I can see you doing that,” Josh smiled, “I think it would be good for you too, being somewhere familiar, surrounded by your art.”

“Y/N L/N?” A nurse called out. You stood up from your chair and Josh followed behind you, “First pregnancy?”

“Uh, yeah,” You answered as she led you to an exam room.

“Congrats, I’ll be your nurse throughout your pregnancy, I’m Stella,” She introduced herself, “Do you know roughly how far along you are?”

“I’m guessing 7-8 weeks,” You said softly and she nodded writing down the information.

“Any changes in diet? Moods? Weight? Blood pressure?”

“Can’t stand the smell, or even sight of avocados. I cry at the slightest things. I saw a ground squirrel outside my window and sobbed. Weight, haven’t noticed, my boobs have gotten bigger I think,”

“Oh they for sure have,” Josh said and you blushed as the nurse giggled softly.

“Very common thing that most women notice first,” Stella said, “Morning sickness?”

“None so far,” You said, “Guess that’s a good sign?”

“Could mean one of two things,” Stella said grabbing the blood pressure cuff off the wall, “You’re one of the very lucky ones who will never experience the. . . joy of morning sickness, or it’ll hit you later,” You groaned and Stella smiled, “Blood pressure is normal. I’m going to have one of the lab techs come in and dry some blood before Doctor Mitchell comes in.”

“She any good?” Josh asked softly.

“She’s the best,” Stella smiled, “You guys and your baby is in the best hands. She’ll be right in,”

Stella left, shutting the door slightly and you leaned back on the table. Josh sighed and looked around the exam room at different posters and things. He felt out of place, he tried thinking back to his high school biology and anatomy classes, but was drawing a blank. He hated the feeling of not being able to be helpful. He had to close his eyes and look away as the lab tech drew your blood, while you hardly batted an eye.

“I feel. . . useless,” Josh said.

“What?” You asked, “Why?”

“When I’m in rooms like this,” Josh said, “Ya know like specialty rooms, like your studio, my studio, I feel at peace. I feel like I’m welcome. Here. . . I don't even know what half this stuff means.”

“Josh,” You said and grabbed his hand, “We’re in this together. We’ll learn together as we go.”

Josh smiled and kissed your hand as the door opened. Doctor Mitchell, and Nurse Stella walked in.

“You must be Y/N and Josh,” Doctor Mitchell said greeting both of them, “First baby I hear, congrats. This is always exciting for first timers,”

“Your labs came back normal, which is good.” Nurse Stella said.

“So with this ultrasound we should be able to see the beginning of the womb development in your uterus. From your blood work we have determined you are about 8 weeks along.” Doctor Mitchell said as she got her work station set up, “I’m gonna have you lift your shirt up, right below your bra.” You lifted up your shirt and Nurse Stella placed a paper sheet on top of your jeans, “You probably have seen this on TV but, the gel is cold,”

You smiled and then shivered as the gel hit your stomach. Doctor Mitchell turned on the ultrasound screen and set it up for the right setting.

“I’m going to apply a little bit of pressure,” Doctor Mitchell said taking the transducer and playing it right below your belly button, pressing down lightly, “And if I go like this. . . you can see, that little blob, is your baby,” She said pointing in the open space of your uterus.

Josh was amazed, his eyes taking mental pictures of what was the true beginning of life. You had already saved the memory the picture with the intent of going home to paint it on many, many canvases.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Nurse Stella said noticing the silence and amazed faces on your faces.

“That’s. . . I don’t even know, and I’m usually not speechless,” Josh said and you chuckled.

“Pictures?” Doctor Mitchell asked and you both nodded enthusiastically. She smiled and captured several pictures of the growing baby.

“Is it too early to hear the heart beat?” Josh asked.

“Just a tad early,” Doctor Mitchell said, and grabbed a washcloth, “Here, ya go,” She handed it to you to clean yourself off, “We can usually hear it around 10-12 weeks. When you come back for the 12 week appointment we should be able to hear it.”

“Amazing,” Josh said and helped you sit up.

“It really is,” Doctor Mitchell said and handed the pictures to you guys, “I’ll see you in 4 weeks. If there are any changes or you have any questions don’t hesitate to give me or Nurse Stella a call.”

“Thank you,” You said and said your goodbyes to the doctor and nurse. You gathered your purse and jacket, pushing up off the table and ready to leave, “Josh?”

“Yeah,” Josh said looking up at you ready to go, “Oh, sorry, sorry.”

He walked past you, opening the door and you smiled watching him head down the hallway like an eager kid in a candy store. You, on the other hand, were already thinking of color schemes to and ways to paint your baby’s first picture.

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

Jake:

“10 bucks says it’s twins,” Jake said as you sat in the exam room waiting for the doctor to come in. It was your 3rd day back in the Nashville, as Jake had some downtime before hitting the road for a couple more shows around the US. You had decided to stay back, as they were only going to be gone for a couple weeks. Jake hated the idea of leaving you behind, especially now, but you had decided it was better for you to be home, by your family and your doctor in case, God forbid, something happened.

“I do not manifest that energy,” You laughed.

“Well, twin gene runs in the family,”

“I don’t think that’s an actual thing,”

“How do you explain me and Josh then?” Jake said.

“Two sperm cells attacked the same egg,” You said, “Basic biology, Jacob.”

“Basic biology, Jacob,” Jake mocked and you rolled your eyes, “You think it’s a boy?

“I really don’t know,” You said looking at your shoes, “I haven’t really had morning sickness, and I keep putting hot sauce on everything I eat. According to google, those are old wives tales about it being a boy,”

“I kinda want a girl,” Jake said softly, “I don’t know the first thing about girls. I mean, we have Ronnie, but she’s basically like another brother,”

“We’ll figure it out when we get there,” You smiled and took his hand. Your heart melted tho hearing that Jake wanted a little girl. Images of him playing dress up with her, or scaring off her first boyfriend, or walking her down the aisle filled your mind and made you feel all warm inside.

“Hello, hello,” Your doctor, Doctor Carpenter said opening the door, “You guys ready to see your baby?” Jake grabbed your hand, a bright smile lighting up your face.

“My first concern though, Y/N, your blood pressure is raised slightly, are you nervous?” Dr. Carpenter asked.

“Yeah,” You said, feeling your heart rate pick up slight, “It’s okay though right, it won’t hurt the baby?”

“It’s still early on, and it’s not raised to the point were I am overly worried, but it does put it on my radar. It’s important you try and stay out of stressful situations. Do you have a history of pre-eclampsia or high blood pressure?”

“Yeah. My mother was pre-eclamptic with my brother. She ended up having a c-section at 38 weeks,” You shared. You felt your heart pick up and you swallowed, trying to slow it back down. Your mother had briefly spoke to you about her blood pressure issues when she was pregnant, you had written them down as something to look up and talk to your doctor about.

Doctor Carpenter nodded and typed on her computer, “Definitely even more important with that being in your history that you keep calm and level at all times, okay.”

You nodded and Jake could feel your hand starting to sweat. Jake kissed your forehead as Dr. Carpenter prepped your belly for you to see your baby. She clicked some things on the ultrasound monitor before a black and white blob filled the screen.

“Okay, and here is your baby,” Doctor Carpenter said.

“Baby right? As in one, as in not another one, but one,” You said.

Doctor Carpenter moved the transducer around several times, getting a better look, “Yep, just one.”

“Ha! You owe me 10 bucks,” You said pointing at Jake.

“I’ll buy you a milkshake and onion rings,”

“Large please,”

“Deal,”

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

Sam:

“Quit touching stuff,” You said to Sam as he was looking through the drawers in the exam room. Sam had been driving you up the wall since you walked into the OB/GYN office. His impatience and your impatience were growing as you waited for the doctor to come in.

“I’m sorry,” He said and finally sat down in the chair next to you, “You okay? You look a little green,”

“I feel like I’m going to vomit,” You said closing your eyes and throwing your arm over your eyes, “I thought having a 4:30 pm appointment would mean I was safe from morning sickness, but apparently, I’m wrong.”

“I can go find the doctor and tell them to hurry up,” Sam suggested. You looked over at him and smiled.

“It’s okay,” You said, “I’m not the only pregnant woman here. But I am gonna have to pee if she don’t hurry up,”

Sam smiled and sat back in his seat, his fingers itching to go mess with something. He was nervous, he hated just sitting and waiting. His impatience was getting the better of him, he had spent most of the past couple days looking at baby accessories. He had already ordered a crib and changing table, much to your surprise. He justified saying ‘I need to work on my dad building skills’.

“So sorry on the wait,” Doctor Glover said as she opened the door, “Y/N, Sam.”

Doctor Glover was the main L&D doctor at the children’s hospital you worked at. They had both gotten to known Doctor Glover from various hospital gatherings, and she was more than happy to take on the young parents as a patient. You also knew that she wasn’t going to sugar coat things for you, and tell you if there was something wrong. You had worked with Doctor Glover enough to understand how she was during the labor and delivery process.

“You know this is like baby number 12,” Doctor Glover said, “Something about post disaster to get people wanting to populate again.”

“We might have had too much downtime during quarantine,” Sam smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Tell that to all the moms on the L&D floor,” Doctor Glover said, “Your labs look good, but I’m guessing you knew that,”

“Might have checked them before you came in,” You said and rolled your shirt up and laid back, “Might need to swipe some of those nausea patches too,”

“Bad morning sickness?” Doctor Glover asked, squirting some gel on her bare stomach, “How often?”

“Every day, all day it seems,” You answered as she moved the transducer around on your stomach, “Sam’s a vegan and that seems to not help at all.”

“Sorry, babe,” He said and kissed your forehead.

“I might have to kick him out, I’ve never wanted a fat, juicy, steak so bad in my life,” You said and Doctor Glover laughed.

“I think I draw the line at that,” Sam said, faking disgust on his face, “You might need to go live with Jake for the rest of this,”

You pushed his shoulder lightly laughing and turned your attention back to the ultrasound screen. You squinted at what Doctor Glover was looking at, and your eyes widen. You pushed yourself up on your elbows to try and get a better look. She noticed your movement and moved the screen closer to your view.

“You see that?” She said.

“I do, do you see that?” You asked.

“I do,” She said.

“See what? I don’t read doctor, I’m sorry,” Sam said.

“Well,” Doctor Glover said, “This is Baby A,” She said taking a screenshot, “And this is Baby B,”

“A and B?” Sam said, suddenly speechless, “A and B? B and A? 1 and 2?”

“2 and 1,” You said looking at Sam, “There’s two.”

“There’s fucking two!” Sam exclaimed, his eyes wide, “Oh my god, Josh and Jake can suck it.”

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

Danny:

You took a deep breath as you laid on the table waiting for Doctor Collins. Both fear and nervousness were taking over your system. Danny for once was nervous too. You didn’t want to get your hopes up in case something had happened, but you also prayed that your body wasn’t playing tricks on you. You guys had wanted this moment for years. You looked over at Danny who’s head was leaned back against the wall as his foot tapped nervously on the ground. You wanted this for him, you guys had to go through two tragedies in having two angel babies, and he was the best partner you could ask for during them. He never wanted to leave your side, even when you pushed and shoved him away from you. He always made sure that you were physically okay, helping you through any pain you were in, calling Doctor Collins for advice on how to help you, taking you to the ER if it was needed. But besides that, Danny always made sure you were okay mentally. Nobody really ever talked about the emotional side of losing a child you didn’t even know you had, or never got to hold. Danny did what he could, going to different support groups, talking to different therapists about how he could help you through something he couldn’t ever experience.

“I love you,” You said and Danny opened his eyes and smiled at you. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“I love you too,” He smiled back, “What’s going on in that head?”

“I just really want this,” You said softly and placed a hand on your stomach, “We’ve done everything right, and I just really want this to be our time,”

“I know,” Danny said, running a hand over your hair, “We just gotta keep the faith,”

“Danny, Y/N,” Doctor Collins smiled as she walked through the door, “How are we doing?”

“Okay, I think,” You said shifting slightly, “I’ve been taking the vitamins, taking my blood pressure daily, staying away from stressful situations.”

“All good things I like to hear,” She smiled, “How are you doing, Danny?”

“Nervous,” He smiled, “I want to see my baby, or potential babies,”

Doctor Collins smiled, “Your labs look good, Y/N. I still want you to come in every week for right now. Once we get past the first trimester, we can move to every 2 weeks. I know it’s scary right now, but the chance of miscarriage drops weekly, you keep doing the right things and before you know it, you’ll have a health baby or potential babies in your arms.”

Danny smiled and grabbed your hand, as he stood at the head of the exam table. Doctor Collins put some of the cold ultrasound gel on your stomach and grabbed the transducer, moving it around on your stomach. You moved your head away, facing away from the screen. Danny noticed you move and frowned, feeling the fright roll off of you.

“It’s okay,” Danny whispered in your ear. He looked up at the screen, and his whole world seemed to freeze in place, “Baby, look,”

You turned your head back and could see the small moving blob on the screen. Tears filled your eyes and you watched the blob move on the screen. Doctor Collins smiled at the two of you and moved the image in closer.

“There they are,” She smiled, “Your rainbow baby,”

#greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet #greta van fic #gvf imagine #gvf fanfiction #gvf #josh kiszka imagine #josh gvf #josh kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka imagine #sam kiszka imagine #sam gvf #sam kiszka #danny wagner imagine #danny wagner #danny gvf

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Chaotic as The Sea (3/?)

Pairing: Jack Sparrow x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3k Warning: swearing, violence Part Summary: The Black Pearl arrives in Bimini and as any adventure with Jack Sparrow, there’s chaos

Masterlist

Two days later...

Will

We arrive at Bimini as the sun begins to set. Y/N and Barbosa argue that we should wait until sunrise to explore the island. I argue that we can't waste another minute without trying to rescue Elizabeth. Jack, to my surprise, agrees that we shouldn't wait. Though, I think his reasoning is because he wants to see the fountain.

Barbosa, Jack, Gibbs, Ragetti, Pintel, Y/N, and I all hop off the boat to explore the island. Gibbs, Will, and Pintel all carry long torches for us as the only sources of light.

"Okay, so I know the general direction, but unless you feel like risking the chance of getting lost, which I don't, I suggest we use the compass," Y/N announces.

"I thought you were certain of the fountain's location," Barbosa remarks a tad agitated.

"Every tree and speck of white sand look exactly the same. Next trip, I'll drop your ass in a jungle in the middle of the night and tell you to find your way out!" She snaps.

"Okay, well then let's use the compass." Ragetti takes the compass of Jack's belt and hands it to Y/N.

The device begins to spin in her hand and Ragetti peeks over her shoulder. Jack quietly moves to stand beside her, wishing to catch a glimpse of himself.

Abruptly, Y/N shuts the compass and frantically tries to get rid of it. "Oh uh, no it's okay, Jack can take it." She tosses it to him.

"Me?" He looks at her wide-eyed and panicky. "No, give it to Will! He wants to find the bloody place." He tosses it to me.

"What's wrong with you two?" Barbosa yells in frustration.

"The compass doesn't work for them," I state.

"Seriously!" Y/N huffs.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Barbosa questions.

"When Jack holds it the arrow points to Y/N," I explain pointing between them.

"Who told you that!" Jack questions.

Then, Jack and Y/N both glare at Gibbs. "Gibbs!" They bark in unison.

The older man holds up his hands in surrender.

"Well, why can't Y/N do it?" Pintel questions timidly, circling his hands together.

"Why can't Will just bloody do it and we can move on!" The woman challenges.

Jack nods. "I'm with her on this one."

I sigh. "When Y/N holds it, it points toward whatever she wants so bad in New France."

"But isn't New France North of here?" Ragetti questions.

"Yes!" The rest of us answer in unison.

His face scrunches together in confusion. "But uh-"

Y/N elbows Ragetti in the ribs. "Shut it!" She's quick to change the subject. "Let's go! Will! I'll lead the way, you just act as a checker."

_______________________________________________

30 minutes later...

Y/N

As the seven of us continue to march through the thick jungle, Jack appears beside me. "After we're finished in New France. I say you and I pay a visit to Tortuga for old time's sake."

I laugh. "Ha! Wish to relive our break-up?"

"Think of it as a celebration of our reunion," he tries to sugarcoat it.

I roll my eyes, laughing as I move ahead to join Will up front. "In your dreams!"

Ragetti

I pick up my pace to catch up with Pintel. "I know something you don't know!"

"What?" He eagerly asks.

"When Y/N was holding the compass, the arrow was pointing toward her," I whisper.

His face scrunches together. "Y/N desires herself?"

"No!" I huff. "Jack was standing next to her!"

He gasps, putting it all together. "So you mean-"

"Yes!"

He grins. "That's kinda sweet actually."

Y/N

"Now be careful!" I announce to the men, watching my step as we get closer to the mountainside. "The natives made pit traps and other boobytraps-"

Before I can finish my warning. Jack screams from the back of the group. When I whip my head around, Jack is nowhere to be seen. "For idiots like Jack," I sigh.

"Does anyone see him?" Will questions, moving his torch around.

"It's kind of dark!" Gibbs remarks.

"Thank Jack and Will for that! They refused to wait until morning," I grumble, marching back to where I last saw Jack.

"Jack!" We all call in a scatter as we search.

"Captain!" Gibbs shouts.

We all watch our steps, checking the heavily covered jungle floor and sky for any sign of him. He could be hanging from a tree in a net or in a hole somewhere. If it's deep enough and well covered, it'll be hard to hear him.

"This is ridiculous!" Gibbs huffs.

"I say we leave him and tell the crew some natives got him," Barbosa suggests.

"I have an idea," I announce as one pops into my head. "Give me the compass," I ask Will, holding out my head.

"But how will that help?" He questions with a raised brow.

I hold the compass in my palm and lift the lid. I watch as the arrow spins. Soon, each of the men are gathered around me in a circle, eager to catch a glimpse. Then, the arrow stops, pointing Southeast. The men break apart, allowing me to follow it.

"Watch your step," I advise.

I keep a close eye on the arrow, making sure it doesn't change direction. I'm about to take another step when Will suddenly grabs my arm. I glance ahead and realize there's a massive pit in front of me. Its edges were covered in leaves and brush.

"Oh, thanks," I exhale deeply.

"Captain! You down there?" Gibbs shouts down below, holding a torch above the massive pit.

I kneel down beside the pit and await an answer.

There's a faint, "Am I dead?"

I giggle and shout back. "No, you're not dead you idiot!"

"Pintel! Ragetti! Go fetch a rope from the ship!" Barbosa commands, sending the two off.

I laugh, relieved that Jack is okay. Based on the distant swooshing sound, the pit is filled with water thankfully, not spikes. This could've been a recovery mission. I sit back on my knees and glance up to find the remaining three men staring at me with knowing grins.

"What!" I sass, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Nothing," they all say, breaking apart to roam in different directions.

I roll my eyes, such nosy people, pirates.

____________________________________________

The men work together, yanking Jack up from the bottom of the pit. I remained to kneel beside the edge, holding up a torch so we can see Jack when he pops up.

"Ho!" Barbosa calls out as they tug the robe. "Ho!"

Soon, Jack appears from within the darkness and I grip his belt, guiding him to safety. The men release the rope and relax, releasing panting breaths.

"You okay? Captain!" Gibbs questions.

"Yeah," Jack flips onto his back, catching his breath, "yeah, I should be fine. How did you-" His eyes flicker about until his eyes land on the compass on the ground beside me.

"Ah, now that's interesting." A cheeky smirk begins to form on his face as he lifts his gaze to meet mine.

I shove him in the shoulder, frustrated. "I told you to watch where you were going!" He has no idea how worried I was.

"I was a tad distracted by you, Love," he chuckles.

My eyes fall shut as I release a sigh of relief. Thank God, he's okay.

Jack places his hand on my thigh, capturing me by surprise. His dark eyes meet might and I place my hand over his. He flips his over and they interlock in my lap. His eyes soften at the sight.

Suddenly, there's a series of yells from across the jungle. Each of us tosses our heads to the side and sees small glimmers of light in the distance. Jack flies up beside me from his laid position.

"Are they with us?" He questions.

There's the ring of a gunshot and the bullet hits the tree right by Barbosa's head.

"Don't think so!" Will declares, his voice shaky.

"Who are they?" I shout.

"Wait! They're Black Beard's men! I remember one of them. He's the one who took Elizabeth!" Will determines.

“How did they find the fountain?” Barbosa yells.

“He knew you’d come and find me!” I comprehend and look over at Jack. “He’s been following us here!”

Pintel and Ragetti immediately make a run for it.

“I’m with them, time to go!” Will decides and starts to run back to the ship.

Jack takes my hand and instantly brings me to my feet. We begin to run too, hand in hand.

“Cowards!” Barbosa shouts and stands his ground. He whips out his gun and begins to shoot at the mob. “Come and get it you slimy gits! Ha!” He laughs.

Running utterly blind in the dark jungle, there’s hardly any light other than that that can make it through the tree tops from the moon. We make it through the jungle and see the beach a few yards ahead. Will and the two morons make a bee-line for the ship, when they’re suddenly stopped by a cluster of Blackbeard’s men running from down the beach. Jack pulls me into his side and draws his sword.

Suddenly, I feel a hand wrap around my wrist and I’m yanked away from Jack. He immediately whips around and his eyes grow wide. My back slams into someone’s chest and I struggle to free myself. More of Blackbeard’s men appear from within the jungle and begin to fight Jack. Two men begin to drag me off and I fling around, trying to break free.

"Jack!" I scream. “Let me go you bastards!”

Jack searches for me and when he finally spots me, he screams. "No!" He looks at me pleading and full of guilt.

As more of Blackbeard’s men appear, we both quickly realize there’s nothing either of us can do. These morons are taking me to their ship, more than likely to see their captain and to be held prisoner. This is yet another reunion I did not request.

______________________________________

After sailing out to the Queen Anne's Revenge a couple hundred yards from the island, the nasty men take me aboard and immediately drag me off to the captain’s quarters. They swing open the double doors below top deck and we enter a familiar red velvet decorated office.

A tall man stands behind the desk with his back to us. "And who do we have here?" A familiar voice purrs. When he spins around, his grin falls to confusion. "Y/N?"

"I told you! Idiots!" I huff and yank my arms free from his buffoons."Hi, Eddie," I offer a fake smile.

"Eddie?" The pair beside me repeat in unison.

The captain pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "How many times must I tell you?"

"You could hand me the Templar Treasure yourself, I won't call you Blackbeard. It's stupid," I laugh, approaching him.

"Leave us," he commands his minions. Once we’re allow, he moves to stand the other side of his desk. He props himself against it with a grin. "So, you and Jack are back together again..."

"No way in hell," I snicker, taking a look about his office. He’s changed it in the last five years. "He promised me he knew where the Templar Treasure was, I'm simply completing my half of the deal."

"Which is?" He inquires.

I stop my admiring of his decor to meet his gaze. "Showing him to the fountain."

"You would honestly betray me like that?" He acts offended my placing his hand against his chest.

"If it guaranteed me the Holy Grail? Yes,” I stand firm.

"Your loyalties still lie with that treasure? You truly are a pirate at heart,” he smirks. He rises from his position on the desk to pour us chalices of wine. As he approaches me, his eyes travel up and down my entirety. "Dare I say, you look amazing."

I accept the wine, but roll my eyes at his compliment. "Oh save it.”

He pouts dramatically. "What happened to the spirited eighteen-year-old I first met?” He reaches up and tucks strands of my hair behind my ear. “You're bitter now."

I lift my arm and knock his hand away from me. "It's called maturing."

"Have you matured enough to conclude that I'm the better man than Jack?" He smirks, stepping closer to me.

I move away from him and toward the book case against the far wall behind his desk. "I think I prefer neither of you,” I answer over my shoulder.

"One point, if I recall correctly, there was a point where you couldn't choose between us." He narrows his eyes, taking a sip of his wine as he creeps closer to me again. "Do you remember those few months in Bermuda?"

I shift of my heels, allowing my eyes to fall to the Persian rug beneath them. "It was always going to be him, Eddie..."

Abruptly, he rushes toward me and pins me against the bookcase. My wine falls out of my hand and stains the rug. "I could've had you if I wanted!" He growls.

I look him dead in the eyes with a clenched jaw. "You dare threaten me!”

He laughs mockingly. "What? Going to curse me?"

I grin. "That used to terrify you if I recall correctly."

"You're all bark and no bite. I happen to know for a fact, you don't practice dark magic!" He challenges.

"Just because I don't practice it, doesn't mean I don't know how to use it.”

There’s a commotion outside and soon the double doors swing open to reveal Jack marching in, gun drawn. While Eddie is distracted I pick up a vase off one of the shelves near me and I knock him over the head with it. The vase shatters into a hundred pieces over his head and the man falls to the ground with a thud at my feet. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I meet Jack’s gaze. His eyes flicker away from the man knocked out on the floor and up to me.

"I hate that I'm relieved to see you," I pant.

He runs over to me and takes my hand. "Consequence of loving me." He guides me over to one of the windows and swings it open. “Can you jump?”

I look at him as though he as three heads. “Can you jump? What kind of dumb question is that?” I mock. Then, I ask him a similar dumb question. “I don’t know Jack, can you swim?” I roll my eyes and climb up onto the windowpane and jump out.

“Jesus, Mary, and the bloody camel sorry for asking!” I hear him grumble under his breath as climbs out the window and jumps in after me.

___________________________________

Jack

We’re not sure how we’ll get Elizabeth back, but we will. Though, I suspect that he was never after the fountain. No, what he truly wanted was Y/N and the fountain was just a cover-up. I brought her right to him. For now, we just need to create some distance between us so we can form a plan.

Y/N climbs the ladder above me and Gibbs helps her on board. She offers him a thank you and brushes herself down. The crew is well into their tasks, getting us far from this island as soon as possible.

“Glad to see you’re safe, Miss,” Gibbs greets.

“Did everyone make it back okay?” She questions as I climb aboard.

“Yes, even I,” Barbosa announces with a proud grin. “Not with the help of you lot,” he adds.

“Don’t exactly have a death wish,” she giggles.

“There’s a change of clothes for you in the Captain’s office,” Gibbs informs her.

She offers him thanks and begins toward my quarters. Barbosa and Gibbs break apart to return to their positions.

“You! Hold it!” I call out.

The two men glance in my direction, wondering who I’m speaking to. They follow my gaze to Y/N.

She whips her head around, her gorgeous, long, wavy, Y/H/C flowing in the breeze. She crosses her arms over chest. “Excuse me?” She scoffs with a grin forming on her lips.

I narrow my gaze at her. “I have one question.”

Barbosa and Gibbs watch the interaction, their heads tilting back and forth between us with each exchange. The crew too watches as they attempt to multitask with their duties. Her eyes remain on the deck panels and anywhere else but me.

“Did you know the compass would lead you to me?” I ask.

There’s a pause and I can tell she’s reluctant to answer despite the amused expression she wears. Then, her eyes rise to meet mine with a sigh. “Yes... maybe...”

I smirk, approaching her slowly. “Oh see now that’s interesting, don’t you think?”

“What? Just going to gloat about the ship now?” She rolls her eyes, directing her focus in the distance away from me.

I bring my hands up to her cup her face and make her meet my gaze. To my surprise and pleasure, she doesn’t move from her spot or shove me away. Instead, brings her fingers to hook through the loops of belt.

“You stay with me from now on. No more hiding out.” I smirk. “That’s an order,” I tease quietly between us.

“Whatever you say...” Her eyes fall to my lips and then flicker back to my eyes. She grins. “Captain.”

One my hands slips behind her head to her neck and I bring my lips to meet hers in a needy kiss. Her arms fling over my shoulders, deepening the kiss.

“Now they’re going to be insufferable!” I hear Barbosa grumble to Gibbs as he stomps off.

Five years of searching for her, waiting for, wondering if I’ll ever see her again. What happened between us all those years ago is one of my greatest regrets if not the biggest. Our relationship has never been easy, in fact it’s exceedingly complicated and one giant headache. We haven’t stopped arguing since the moment we met and rarely agree on anything. Yet, we love as we do argue with each other, passionately and with everything we have. Now that I have Y/N back and I know she loves me in return, I’m never letting her go. God help me if I let Blackbeard anywhere near her.

_______________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @subwonwooagenda @starfire56 @doveygirlkay-blog @dansyberry @dansyberry @meany-marcelini @naturallyathief @oliviamae4193 @xxshoutxx @house-chase465636 @the-clint-barton @lxr1582 @m00ny-stars @lonliest-love @meandmymessyminds @jick-n0nas @biracy @kriimu10 @soxpoprocks @peachyplxm @captainluciabianchin @cannibalistic-cicada @a-e-i-owe-you @velvetsnaiil @mindifislytherin666 @bunkyung @livinglifewithoutbeingseen @ghosts-face @mx-pibbles @bigplaidwinnerparty @greentea121598 @that-eco-bitch

#pirates of the caribbean #pirates of the carribean imagine #jack sparrow imagine #jack sparrow #jack sparrow fanfic #jack sparrow x reader #PotC #will turner #elizabeth swann

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Note

Hi! I saw that requests are open, if it's not a problem could i request Satan reacting to MC coming to him with new books every time they hang out because they want him to read them out loud since they have a short attention span? Like, Satan would be reading said book while MC is drawing or doing something else.

I have adhd and reading books that are not digital is a nightmare for me, so him reading out loud would be pretty relaxing.

Btw it's up to you if you wanna do headcanons or a oneshot!

ABSOLUTELY!!! So this is actually my first request and I'm super excited because as someone who also has ADHD I can totally relate! I hope you like it!

Too Still, Too Quiet

GN!MC with ADHD Summary: Satan notices that MC seems to have a hard time hanging out with him; he's determined to get to the bottom of the issue and find a solution.

After living in the House of Lamentation for nearly a year, you've grown accustomed to the many quirks that came with living with the seven Lords of the Devildom. You had gotten close to the brothers, and as they picked up on your symptoms for your ADHD, they each found their own ways of being helpful. Lucifer had always known, as it was written on your file, and made a point of sending you subtle reminders throughout the day to keep you organized and on task. He brushed it off saying that it merely prevented him from having to go after you later on if you forgot or did something incorrectly. Mammon was no stranger to having a hard time prioritizing and staying focused and took pride in lending you some of the different tools he used to fidget with. After all, his human deserved the best, and you couldn’t get any better than using something that belonged to the great Mammon. Leviathan’s room provided a relaxing atmosphere with just enough stimulation to keep your brain satisfied enough to focus on your school work and tasks. The sounds of the aquarium provided a fantastic back ground noise, and Levi always took caution in wearing his headphones when he gamed if you were working in his room to not add to the distractions around you. Asmodeus had a good eye for when you were growing too frustrated by the regular chaos that tended to fill the House of Lamentation and would pull you aside to his room for some self-care to help calm you down. There was nothing like a head message and face mask from Asmo as he happily gossiped about the latest drama in The Fall to help ground you. Beelzebub, on the other hand, was great at noticing when you were starting to grow restless. In those moments, he’d not-so-subtly state that he was heading to the gym and it’d sure be nice if he had someone to join in before very obviously making eye contact with you. At first you had a hard time figuring out a good balance between a work out that satisfied Beel while also not killing you. But now the two of you easily worked with each other until you were both sweating, smiling, and happy. He also made sure to remind you to eat through out the day whenever you went to a round of hyper-fixation on something. Belphegore wasn’t particularly helpful when it came to your forgetful spells or disorganization as, being the Avatar of Sloth, he would normally encourage such behavior. Instead, he did what he did best, and helped put your wandering mind to ease whenever you were trying to sleep. The only person, and not for a lack of trying, that you just couldn’t seem to find a flow with was Satan.

He was too quiet and organized for you to be able to stand being around him for long periods of time. You had tried hanging out with him a couple of times, but after a few minutes of him silently reading or him explaining whichever text he was currently studying, you would grow restless and distracted. Which brought you to your current situation. Satan had invited you to come relax in his room with him, as the rest of his brothers were dealing with the aftermath of their most recent dilemma. It wasn’t so bad at first, some light conversation here, some banter there, but soon your mind started to wander off to the spines of the endless books around you as you pondered on what might be inside them. “MC?” Your attention snapped back onto Satan, who stood frowning at you. You blushed and scratched the back of your neck. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got a little distracted. What were you saying?” Satan sighed as his frown deepened. “I’ve noticed that tends to happen a lot with you. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He quickly amended raising his hands in defense. “But it seems particularly bad when you’re with me. You get quite jittery and I don’t think you’ve ever stayed in my room longer than ten minutes,” for a second his eyes almost looked sad as he looked over at you, “Is it something I’m doing? Do I make you uncomfortable?” “No! Satan, no, it’s not you I promise!” You quickly reassured moving closer to him. “It’s just well I have a hard time staying still and focusing on things and when it gets too quiet it bothers me because then my brain is like hyper fixating on the smallest noises in the room, even though I’m supposed to be focusing on what you’re saying or my work, and it’s like, is that a page a turning or a something scratching at the door and then I start wondering about what kind of things could be in here and-” “MC.” Satan cut off, though he didn’t seem annoyed. In fact, his eyes now gleamed with a sense of understanding. “Do you happen to have ADHD?” “Yeah, I thought you all knew? Lucifer told all of you when I arrived right? That’s why everyone is so-” you moved your hand in a vague gesture that even you weren’t entirely sure what it was meant to symbolize. Satan huffed and shook his head. “Lucifer did no such thing. I imagine he would’ve told us if it came to be a big enough problem. But you know him. He takes pride in being the only one to know certain things. “ You frowned and tilted your head in confusion. “But then what about the others? They’ve all been helping me out for months now.” Satan placed a hand under his chin in thought, “They most likely took note of individual symptoms and decided to help. Belphegore, and possibly even Leviathan and Asmodeus may have put two and two together, but the rest probably think you’re just forgetful or that you’re restless,” he smiled reassuringly at you, “but that’s besides the point. Now that I know, I can help make you feel more at ease when you’re with me. What’s the main issue that you-” “It’s too quiet!” You quickly cut off, causing Satan to raise an eyebrow. “When we’re in here relaxing and you’re just reading and I’m supposed to be reading too, it’s too quiet. I try to focus on the book, but my mind keeps jumping around to other things. And I want to read all those books you’ve recommended to me, I really do, but I start feeling bored after a little while and next thing I know I jumping sentences without noticing and then I’ve gone an entire chapter with no recollection of what I’ve just read because I wasn’t really paying attention to the words at all I was just flipping pages without realizing it, so I have to go back and re-read the whole thing all over again!” You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “Is exhausting and makes me feel dumb, so I get up and do something else instead.” Satan nodded, taking in every word carefully. “Well first of all,” you yelped as he flicked your forehead. “Ouch! What was that for?!” The demon smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “For calling yourself dumb. Just because you have more difficulty with literature than others, does not mean you’re dumb. You simply require a different reading strategy than what most consider “usual”, and I believe I have a solution that would suit both of us,” you perked up at his words. “I recommended those books to you because I greatly enjoyed them myself. How about, when you’re here, you can choose a book you want to read, and I will read it out loud for you? That should help, yes?” A light airy warmth filled your chest at just how accommodating Satan was willing to be. “But what about the books that you were reading?” The demon shrugged, “I can always read them in my spare time.” He moved closer to take your hands into his, silently demanding your full attention. “I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I want you to be comfortable and be able to be yourself when you’re around me without feeling stressed. This is honestly the least I could do for you, MC.” Blushed rushed to your cheeks as you felt your heart flutter in your chest. You awkwardly cleared your throat and took your hands back, rubbing them on your legs as you noted how clammy they were. “I think I-I would like that a lot” The grin on Satan’s face widened as he took one of your hands and lead you deeper into the bookshelves of his room. “Splendid! Then why don’t we get try right away? Take you pick, MC, I will be your narrator for the evening and for as long as you wish.” ***** I hope this was something along the lines of what you were looking for! It is a little short, but I hope you like it. Thank you so much for the request, I loved it! Requests are OPEN and I would definitely love to complete some more if anyone has any ideas or prompts that they’d like me to complete. Just send in an ask and, if I feel comfortable with it, I’ll do my best to make a fic for it!

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illusionsofdreaming · 3 years

Note

would it be okay to request headcanons with the main trio from TCF who aren't in a relationship with the (fem) reader yet but they like each other, the guys get hurt or something and the reader is so scared of losing them or was so anxious that she ended up kissing them? You can edit a few parts if you'd prefer! thank you, i know you have a lot of requests but you're the only one who writes x reader for them-

Notes: It took forever+forever but I finally gave up trying to perfect it- y'all just going to have to deal with these half baked potatos as I sob in the corner for my lack of functioning writing braincells.

+ 'nonny I know you asked for Fem reader but I'm just so used to writing gender neutral nowadays I actually forgot to write Fem reader in. Uh. I mean it's gender neutral so it should work regardless?? I'msorrypleaseforgivemeforthisblunder

Ft: Cale, Alberu, Choi Han

Cale Henituse

He’s covered in blood.

Again.

He glanced down at his shirt, once white, now completely soaked and rapidly losing warmth. The icky feeling of sticky cloth stuck on skin caused goosebumps to break out all over his arms. The lethargy that weighed on him was hard to ignore, but expected after using his ancient powers-

“Cale!”

He turned just as the full force of you barrelled into him and he staggered, unbalanced and would’ve fallen had you not pulled him back. He barely had time to protest at your rough greeting when you began frantically patting him down as if scouring him for weapons.

“There’s so much- where are you hurt?” you demanded harshly, your tone pitched higher than normal. “Raon call for Saint Jack and the others, medics- anyone that can help!”

“Y-yes! I-I will! Weak hu-human you better not die or I will destroy the kingdom!”

“Wai-“ his protests were ignored as the dragon flew off, leaving Cale dumbfounded with his jaw hanging down in disbelief. “Wait you don’t have to find the others, I’m fi-“

“Cale Henituse, if I hear you say ‘I’m fine’ I’m going to sock you to kingdom fucking come.“ you seethed. His lips snapped shut obediently, swallowing the aforementioned phrase down as a foreboding chill crept down his spine.

But I am..?

“How could you..” your voice shook even as you clung onto his soaked shirt so tightly your knuckles turned white. “You’re always doing stupid things like this…”

Cale frowned, feeling a bit indignant. Sure his plans weren’t the most thought out at times, but to call them stupid…

“If you waited for us to come, then you wouldn’t have to- why do you keep sacrificing yourself like this?”

That triggered an alarm in his head. What strange things were you talking about? The act of sacrifice were done by martyrs and selfless heroes and Cale Henituse was neither of those. He wanted to correct your misunderstanding but you were worked up and hysterical and it was with horror that he realised you were crying.

“________-“

“Don’t talk! Please, just conserve your energy- I won’t let you die, I promised the kids and the others- I won’t let you-”

The alarm bells in his head rang even louder and he fought to be heard over your rambling, “_________- no one’s dying, I’m fine-” it felt as if his heart had leapt to his throat as he stopped your fist before it could make contact. You really weren’t joking when you said you’d punch him. He tightened his hold on your wrist when you tried to twist out of his grip and swallowed nervously. “I’m not hurt _________,“ he emphasised, willing you to meet his eyes.

“Stop bullshitting me Cale- how much of a fucking idiot do you take me for? How can anyone be fine after losing this much blood-“

“It’s not mine.”

You stilled in his grasp.

“…W-what?”

He frowned. Was it really that hard to believe his words? “The blood’s not mine.” he repeated and made sure to meet your disbelieving gaze head on so that you could verify the truth in his words. “They were cut down before they could harm me. None of this blood is mine. I was not hurt.“ It was a partial lie. He did cough out some blood after instinctively activating the shield for protection but he felt that that was knowledge you’d be better off not knowing.

The coiled tension in you leaked out and Cale slowly released his grip on your hand and took a cautious step back - just in case. It was a good thing he managed to deescalate the situation before the others arrived. Just convincing one person was hassle enough and from experience alone, he knew the others weren’t as merciful when it came to learning about his injuries, regardless of severity or his protests otherwise. Cale shuddered. He really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Ron’s cold smile again. He glanced up and saw Raon’s flying figure and he waved lazily to the dragon hoping the young one would understand that the healers were no longer necessary, it had only been a false alarm.

“..ot.”

“Hm?” He looked down, hearing you mumble but didn’t quite catch what you’d said.

He was not prepared to be yanked forward and for your lips to mash against his. There was a brief sting where your teeth had caught on his lip and the uncomfortable sensation of having your teeth clack against each other, noses in the way. He froze, like a deer caught in headlights, thoughts reeling but before he could think of acting, to push or pull you in even closer-

You let him go just as abruptly and he staggered, breath stolen, mind in absolute disarray.

Then you slapped him. Which definitely cleared his thoughts. “You idiot!”

Stupefied, he watched as you stormed off, stuck in a daze as he cradled his face where his cheek and lips tingled for different reasons.

“…What..?”

Choi Han

Choi Han didn’t know what Cale saw in you back then, a complete stranger whom they saved by chance and nursed back to health with utmost care. You, who Cale insisted was the final key to their masterplan and then asked Choi Han to act as your escort.

There were many things Choi Han didn’t understand when it came to Cale-nim’s decisions. But that wasn’t so unusual and he’d never made it a habit to question Cale’s reasoning, having learned to be patient, knowing the pieces would eventually slot together in the grand picture. So although initially wary he was of your unclear history and affiliation, he stayed by your side and did his duty without question.

And perhaps after weeks of accompanying you, he’s beginning to see what Cale saw. Though powerless and weak, you were righteous and passionate, holding true to your belief even in the face of adversaries. You were the perfect replacement for the tyrannical ruler of the country, someone capable of salvaging the crumbling system of a neglected, abused society and lifting it to new heights and glory.

With the flames of revolution ignited, everything hinged on getting you safely to Cale on the final stage. While the revolutionaries fought and acted as distractions above ground, he escorted you through the abandoned waterways.

The undergrounds were dark and cramped, incredibly disadvantageous to a swordsman such as himself. When assassins leaped out in an ambush; Choi Han didn’t hesitate. Without time nor space to draw his sword, he pushed you behind him and raised his arm to block the strike.

As the momentum of the assassin’s blade stopped, it became simple matter to quickly disarm and finish them. Having checked and affirmed that there’s no forthcoming attacks, he urged you to hurry, now worried as they weren’t expected to be discovered so soon.

Something must’ve happened, we should hurry to Cale-nim’s side-

He was halted with a firm grip on his other hand and was pulled back as he was met with your stern, unwavering gaze and declaration that you will not move another step from this spot until his arm got treated first.

Which was a ridiculous request considering they were running on a tight schedule. He frowned and his fingers flexed against the hilt of his sword as you pulled him to the side.

When none of his objections were being heard, he tried reasoning with you. The wound may look horrible, but he’d assured you he’d angled his arm just so that the blade would’ve caught on his bone rather than tendons. It was a strategic move that not only blocked momentum but also kept damage to his non-dominant arm at the minimum. He would not have bled to death nor would he be crippled from it, something that barely needed the emergency care you insisted on.

“It’s not necessary, we need to get to the tower room first.”

“The room is not moving anywhere, I’d rather not risk having you develop an infection because you neglected to care for your wound.“

He flinched when alcohol was poured on the cut and Choi Han breathed out slowly, his frustration mounting as precious seconds passed. Something in his chest stirred uncomfortably. He’s not accustomed to having others care for his wounds, having spent so many years caring for them himself whilst hiding his weaknesses from monsters in the Forest of Darkness.

“I will attend to it after I’ve brought you to Master Cale’s side, we must-“

Your eyes flashed with anger as your grip tightened painfully around his arm. “So many things have been lost to reach this stage, I’d rather not lose more on the way there.”

“Cale-“

Perhaps you’ve had enough as well as the next thing he knew, your fingers dug into his arm and he found himself yanked forward and you pressing a hard, determined kiss that stole whatever he was going to say from his lips.

“Cale Henituse,” you said sternly when you parted and picked up a roll of bandages, “can afford to wait a bit longer.” you glared at him as if daring him to argue otherwise.

Not that it was necessary, considering he’d doubt he’d have the coherency to answer anything with the way all the blood in his body was rushing to his face.

Alberu Crossman

He didn’t feel anything upon the moment of impact. Only the shocking cold of metal being slid into his side and the vicious gaze of the perpetrator pressed up to his front.

The pain ripped through a moment later and he gritted his teeth, red spilling down his lips. It hurts.

Activity bursted around him, screams of fear echoed through the ballroom as guards rushed to his side. However one voice in particular caught his attention and he looked up to catch your horrified expression, lips parted in a desperate cry.

His forehead furrowed as a strange sense of guilt washed over him- he didn’t want you to see this- but he didn’t have time to explore the feeling as his hand latched firmly on the hand which still held the weapon in his side, preventing their escape.

His smile was red, “Caught you now, rat.”

═════☩══♛══☩═════

He tousled his hair dry with a towel as he read through the reports in his hand.

Alberu was exhausted, the fight to rid his side of his enemies’ spies had always been an ongoing and tedious project. His enemies were cunning and always played things safe however their impatience this time would cost them. Now that one of their own has fallen into his hands, they can start pulling in the net.

A knock sounded on his door and he didn’t bother looking up from his reports as he gave permission. “Come in.”

“Did you manage to find any new information from them?” he asked immediately as the door opened. Anything gleaned from the assassin would be beneficial to his cause. Not that he truly expected any confessions to be given this night. Any hired killer worth their salt would know not to betray the mastermind behind a hit. But there were more than one way to find credible information aside from words torn directly from the lips of a captive.

When no answer came, he looked up and immediately dropped the papers he was reading.

“___________…”

In the aftermath of the attack and the capture of the assassin he’d been immediately escorted to the healers for first aid. With the bare minimum done he’d left quickly to take control of the situation, calming the aristocrats and giving orders to assign all guests to be escorted to a room in the palace to rest from the unexpected development - the smarter ones would know this was just a way to keep all suspects in one place, stalling for time so that his trusted aides may work to narrow down the most likely suspects. He had been meaning to find you and explain once everything settled but this time you took matters into your own hands.

Your eyes glanced at the documents he dropped. “Am I disturbing your work?”

“No,” he replied instantly, fighting back the urge to shuffle the papers behind him. “No, you’re not.”

The room lapsed into silence once more as neither of you seemed keen to address the elephant in the room.

“About tonight…” he started slowly, “they had to believe I had my guards lowered.”

The truth was, though he believed you would not have been behind the attack, you had to be tested all the same. Should it be known you’ve been partial to this plan, it would’ve given the real culprits leverage to use.

You approached him and he wished you would say something. He noted the redness in your eyes and felt a stab of guilt lodge in his chest. “It had to be believable.”

You didn’t meet his eyes and your hand hovered over where his wound had been.

He lifted the edge of his shirt up to reveal the pink scar tissue underneath. It was ugly and badly healed due to the rush he had been in. “I wasn’t in any real danger.” he said softly, staying still and resisting the urge to shiver when your fingers traced the scar.

“You’re picking up bad habits from Cale.” You said so softly he would’ve missed it had he not been paying attention.

“The padded shirt under prevented the blade from going too deep.” he explained, hoping you’d understand that he hadn’t been reckless. Everything had been planned carefully. He slowly tucked his shirt back in as you withdrew your hand, already missing the warmth you brought to his skin just moments ago.

“__________…”

You leaned in and placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Don’t do that again.” you whispered against his cheek.

He could only watch in astonishment as you turned away and exited his room.

“..Okay..” he said hoarsely to the empty room.

#tcf #trash of the count's family #imagines #tcf x reader #cale henituse #alberu crossman #choi han #kiss #pre relationship #confession..?#i honestly don't have enough brain power to tag things rn #i also have not proofread this much so #it's A MESS #i'll come back to edit this when I'm more awake or something #ngl the whole time while i was struggling with this #i was thinking how ridiculous that i've spent so long agonising over writing with words #but consuming it would only take less than a minute LOL #now im back at 0 and im feeling a bit sad

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kumzume · 3 years

Text

glam ft. todoroki shotō [smhub]

wc. 2.8k :3

warnings. ownership, soft-ish!dom reader, edging, v v lowkey pet play (u call him bunny lol), quiet whiny shoto, begging, miss k*nk (?), slight humiliation k*nk, crying, um

an. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG HOLY S WORD I HOPE ITS OK I DIDNT GET ANYONE TO BETA IT SO IF THERE ARE ISSUES M SO SORRY LOVE YALL TY FOR WAITING

▼・ᴥ・▼

shoto todoroki was so pretty.

it wasn’t like he wasn’t aware — he’d heard the whispers amongst the girls back at U.A. about how attractive he was. that didn’t keep him from believing those words, his insecurities gripping him so tightly that he was unable to even imagine that anyone found him remotely appealing.

that is, until he met you.

when you first transferred into 3-A, the class was thrown into an uproar. you were beautiful, kind, and funny with a powerful quirk to boot! and yet, you never believed that you were better than anyone else, always treating every single person with respect — even bakugou (shoto couldn’t even pretend to understand how you did it but still, the behavior was so undeniably you).

it was all of your remarkable traits that ended up being shoto’s downfall. he believed you were way out of his league — you deserved someone emotionally available and sweet, things that todoroki felt, no knew, he was not. besides, with every single guy in the nearest vicinity falling for you, he knew he didn’t even have a chance.

so, shoto resigned himself to observe you from afar, watching your interactions with his closest friends and classmates, wishing that he could make you smile as wide as kirishima and deku or laugh as hard as sero and denki.

he knew he didn’t measure up and while he tried to make himself okay with that, he felt jealousy bubbling up beneath his skin when he observed shinsou helping you with your homework or bakugou training with you after school.

of course, he realized he didn’t belong to you or you to him and he had no real reason to be envious of whoever you chose to spend your time with but that didn’t stop him from fucking his hand late at night at the thought of you hovering over him, pressing soft kisses to his mangled scar and calling him beautiful.

shoto came embarrassingly quick with that fantasy, the shame and disappointment overwhelming him to the point where he’d purposefully ignored you for days after.

he could tell you were hurt by his behavior — he wasn’t entirely oblivious — but he knew it was for the best. you deserved so much more than him.

the both of you graduated and moved on to your respective agencies, shoto swiftly making his way up to the number 2 spot while you sat comfortably at number 17. neither of you saw each other very often but when you did, conversation was stilted and a bit awkward due to the intense attraction and inability to act on it on shoto’s part.

shoto was willing to go the rest of his life like this; seeing you briefly in passing, stumbling through a discussion with much difficulty, and then returning to his penthouse to hump his pillow and cry out your name.

it was a pretty good system for the most part. shoto had no worries about ever having to face his feelings for you and was content to live out his days suppressing his inner turmoil just for you.

unfortunately, the universe hates him.

at least that’s what he told himself as he stood in the center of a boardroom next to you, clad in your hero outfits and listening to instructions on an upcoming mission that required you and shoto to work together. alone. for days at a time.

what the fuck.

to be honest, shoto completely tuned out the minute he heard “one bedroom,” his mind racing with all the horribly tempting ways his fantasies could play out.

by the time the meeting was over, he was hard in his pants and entirely distracted as you attempted to make friendly small talk about your mission. shoto sort of felt like he should apologize for being an absolute brick wall, giving you curt one word answers until you decided to leave him alone.

he felt bad but what else could he do when you stood there, wearing your obscene hero costume that revealed way too much of your skin?

well, shoto was being a little dramatic but that’s how he felt! your suit was a play on the playboy bunny costume but instead of being black leather (he thinks he would actually die if you wore leather in front of him), it was a white, lightweight fabric that helped with your quirk.

it was entirely too sexy and reminded him a little too much of one of his secret kinks that he was determined to never let see the light of day.

it was going to be ok! he reasoned. all he had to do was do his job, ignore you like he’s done for the past 3 years and everything would be just fine — right?

wrong. so fucking wrong.

the mission had gone well on all accounts. you both had kicked ass, much to your enjoyment, and were able to go back home a day early!

you were so excited to finally be back in your own bed and away from the weird tension that being around todoroki brought. it wasn’t that you didn’t like him — in fact it was quite the opposite.

you found shoto alluring and gorgeous, his awkward yet endearing mannerisms drawing you further into the mystery that was shoto todoroki. regrettably, it didn’t seem like the man in question was on the same page.

every time you tried to speak with him, he would either stutter and blush or refuse to look you in the eye and give you one-word answers. it was actually ridiculously cute but he would always disappear the first chance he got.

it hurt but you weren’t one to push boundaries where you weren’t wanted.

that’s why that night, instead of going back up to the room to watch tv (uncomfortably, might i add) and knocking yourself out, you decided to go down to the bar and celebrate a job well done.

one of the perks of being a relatively unknown hero was that you could enjoy a night in public without anyone approaching you, a luxury you knew not many top 20 heroes could afford.

with that thought — and the memory of the stifling hotel room awaiting you upstairs — in mind, you made your way to the sparsely populated bar, sitting down and immediately requesting a drink (bourbon, on the rocks).

you scanned the area, counting the number of exits and patrons before your eyes landed on the handsome bartender down at the other end of the counter.

with curly brown hair, bright green eyes and a smile that could kill, there was no way you could lie to yourself and say he was unattractive. even as your mind briefly entertained the notion of taking the brunette out into the alley and fucking him within an inch of his life, your heart just wasn’t in it.

your mind just couldn’t stop drifting to the tall, dual-haired, oh so pretty, man who was (inadvertently) waiting for you upstairs. of course, you weren’t even his to wait for but you didn’t know how to keep from imagining that he was.

a deep sigh escaped your parted lips before you downed the rest of your drink, wincing at the burn it left as it went down your throat. it was getting late and you weren’t planning on spending your night alone with the janitor.

you sent the cute bartender a soft smile while pressing a crisp $20 to the counter. he sent you his own grin back as his eyes trailed down your body clad in your tight hero suit, licking his plump lips in arousal.

you were flattered, truly, but you were a little occupied with getting back to your room, changing into some comfortable pajamas and conking the fuck out.

the trip back up to your room was long and arduous to your sore body, the elevators being out of commission leaving you to take the stairs.

by the time you were at your door, you were so worn out that you were ready to collapse but before you could manage placing your key against the lock, something caught your ear.

“p-please miss,” a breathy moan of your name followed by a wet slapping noise rang out through the door. “i’ll be your perfect bunny, just let m-me cum, please-!!”

holy fuck.

shoto todoroki, the man you’d been crushing on since your years at UA was now touching himself to the thought of you doing god know what to him and he was calling you miss?

you felt heat flood your core, your knees buckling under the heavy weight of your lust. now braced against the door, you leaned your ear against the wood, determined to hear exactly what was getting him off.

more wet noises permeated through the walls — did he just spit in his palm??? — before a long whine left his pretty pink lips.

“m-miss, i belong to you, y-you own me,” he gasped, the creaking of the bed just barely audible beneath his wavering voice.

by now, you knew you’d soaked through the crotch of your hero costume, your clit throbbing painfully beneath the fabric of your panties. you also knew you should turn around, head back to the bar and order another drink, leaving shoto to finish himself off but you couldn’t.

your feet were implanted in place, ear glued against the door as you listened to your partner masturbate to the thought of you owning him.

quietly, you lifted the hand gripping your key to the door, allowing the touchpad to register before slowly pushing the door open.

the sight that greeted you was otherworldly.

the blinds were parted allowing a dreamy haze of moonlight to envelop the room, casting the pale man before you in a somehow whimsical light.

he was stripped down to nothing, lying on his back with a hand wrapped around his gorgeous, swollen cock, furiously stroking himself to completion.

the plump lips that you had spent so much time admiring were parted, allowing whines and whimpers to leave them sporadically as his lithe hips bucked up into his hand.

shoto’s eyes were clenched shut so he was unable to see your dumbfounded, painfully aroused face as you crept into the room, leaning against the wall with your hand pressed to your mouth.

it wasn’t as though you’d never seen a man naked before — you’d had your fair share of men naked in your bed begging for you — but this was something else.

this was shoto — somehow more intimidating than anyone else you’d ever brought to bed and yet you’ve never wanted anyone more.

which is why you were almost surprised at yourself when you opened your mouth and whispered, “stop.”

immediately, shoto’s eyes shot open, wide with fear and apprehension as he lied there frozen, his hand still wrapped tightly around his girth.

the both of you stood there staring at one another, neither of you able to move. you let yourself have this moment to look at him, your eyes tracking all over his muscular form before landing on his length, not missing how it twitched under your gaze.

“i-“ shoto started but he was quickly interrupted by your own voice. “s’this what you do when i’m gone? touch yourself to the thought of me? you’re so dirty bunny.”

it was impossible to hide the low groan that echoed out in the hotel room, shoto’s cheeks burning red in humiliation. a grin crept across your face as you made your way towards him, giggling to yourself at the way he moved up and away from you on the bed.

“now you’re trying to hide, bunny? you weren’t hiding when you were moaning out my name.” your hand slid up his thigh until it was resting on his sharp hipbone, an abrupt gasp leaving his chest.

your hand continued its trajectory, fingers trailing across his tummy before coming to wrap around the base of his cock.

“o-oh fuck, miss—“ a thick drop of precum leaked from his slit and onto your awaiting hand as a low moan departed from the dual-haired boy.

one of his hands shot out to hold yours, drawing your attention to his heterochromatic gaze. shoto’s eyes held so much emotion, small tears already littering his lashline while the moonlight illuminated his crimson scar. he was ethereal.

“pretty,” you hummed, giving him a gentle smile while your hand squeezed his in reassurance. you’d had enough experience to know that that kind of comment was guaranteed to get some kind of vulnerability but what you were not expecting was the expletive shoto muttered before leaning forward to press his lips to yours.

immediately, he was over-enthusiastic, his lips and teeth clashing with yours messily, almost painfully, before you took control of the kiss, slowing shoto down before slipping your tongue inside his mouth.

his quiet groan vibrated into the kiss as you deliberately laid him down, resting his back against the pillows. from there, you had more access to his body, your lips trailing down to his neck while your hand took its place back on his length, lazily pumping him up and down.

“m-miss!” shoto choked, his eyes widening yet again, holding you with his stare. you chose not to respond, instead stroking him quicker while pressing kisses to his shoulder.

“miss,” he tried again, this time more deliberately. “p-please tell me i’m yours...”

with him asking so sweetly, a few tears leaking from his gorgeous eyes at the overwhelming moment, how were you supposed to deny him?

“of course bunny,” you purred, leaning down to peck his nose, sending shivers through his body. “you are mine.”

shoto’s reaction was instantaneous. his eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth dropped open as he felt his pleasure begin to crest, determined to push him over the edge.

you, of course, noticed his body’s response and quickly pulled your hand off of him, painfully ripping his orgasm from his grasp. a disappointed whimper resonated throughout the room as shoto’s eyes found yours, staring at you with such betrayal that you almost found it funny.

“c’mon bunny,” you moved until you were kneeling between his legs, your hands leaving featherlight touches to his inner thighs. “you can hold out for me, right?”

shoto nodded before he could stop himself, desperate for anything you would give him.

besides, it couldn’t be that hard to hold off, right?

...

wrong. so very wrong.

it had only been 30 minutes but it felt like 2 hours since you started playing with him and keeping him from coming.

shoto was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, both hands tangled in his bi-colored locks, eyes squeezed shut with tear tracks now drying on his cheeks and his cock standing fully at attention.

it was purple, throbbing, and covered in precum as you licked a stripe up the side making shoto sob in pleasure.

he had never been harder in his life and he was certain that he would just die if you didn’t let him cum soon.

“p-please, please, miss, please, let me cum,” he babbled, shaking his head mindlessly while bucking his hips up into the warm heat of your mouth.

you chose to ignore his pleas while you moved your mouth over his tip, sucking hard while your hand pumped what wasn’t in your mouth.

“a-ah-!!” shoto shrieked, his back bowing off the bed, his orgasm coming on so hard and so fast that he felt like he was going to explode. “c-can’t hold back m-miss, i can’t, i can’t!”

your hand continued to pick up speed before you pulled your mouth off of him, toying with his tip while leaning up to breathe into his ear.

“cum for me bunny. you’re mine.”

with a cry of your name, shoto came, thick spurts of cum covering his abs, chest and thighs as his body convulsed under the weight of his bliss.

it was the most all encompassing orgasm he’d ever had and you, his former classmate, current partner, and future lover, was beside him through it all, helping him ride it out.

in the back of his mind, shoto knew he should be at least a little worried about how your relationship was going to change after all of this but he couldn’t bring himself to care. you were here and now, bringing him the most pleasure he’d ever undergone with nothing but kind words and a smile, filling his touchstarved heart with heat and, dare he say it, love.

shoto may not have been the funniest or the most open but you chose him, even if it was just for the night. and now that he unlocked how much he loved you, nothing else mattered — just you and him.

as he collapsed back into the sheets, his head just barely registering the cool rag wiping him down, he took pride in how he finally admitted it to himself; shoto loved you and he would be damned if he let anyone else take him away from you.

now, all he had to do was tell you but that was a conversation for another day.

▼・ᴥ・▼

taglist. if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you!!

@anikazoldeck • @hakunamatatayqueen • @alilsumnsumn • @sukunaslefttesticle • @hawksyoongi • @rivviespens • @kenmas-nintendoswitch • @myumyutie • @unicorngluttony • @bloomyagi • @shantellmcintosh • @queenhxla • @yeyehdom • @persies-main • @yikes-buddy • @nnmesis • @thehandsresisthim • @hinatabokeboke • @joongsite • @amazinghefi • @sarcasticambiguity • @mr-bombastic • @i-am-literally-deranged • @ch0pi • @aonjuh • @www-bubblefish • @meliorist-midoriya • @maizurie • @idkdude776 • @midarislonglostlefteye • @queerloser17 • @franklyrobin • @ravioliplease • @ashsera • @chirumi • @yamashiro888 • @xxjosiexx • @krstnn • @bbsista • @seij6hs • @franklyrobin • @chirumi • @melodysakura

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

enemies.

| bucky x reader | fluff |

requested by @fitzfiles enemies to lovers

this is technically a highschool au, but only slightly. we love bucky being a loveable ass out here

Your eyes narrowed and you glared at Bucky. You couldn’t stand him. Bucky was popular, flirtatious, and an asshole. He was always flirting with you at school, and you always felt like he was trying to make a joke of you in front of everyone. On top of that, it made other girls envy you, tainting friendships with jealousy.

It seemed like you were the only one who didn’t want Bucky Barnes.

“You’re such an ass!” You snapped at Bucky, who only laughed in response. You hated when he tilted his head to the side, the stupid smirk you loathed pulling at his lips.

“Don’t be like that, doll.”

“I’ll do whatever I want! Leave me alone, I’m not going to fall at your feet like everyone else!” You stood up from the library where he had been absolutely intent on distracting you from finishing your homework, the reason for the fight in the first place.

You were the only one who didn’t give him every ounce of attention he desired, and he was determined to get it.

You sat on your bed, a folder of history homework open in front of you. You studied with music softly in the background, needing a break from trying to study with Bucky bothering you every five seconds.

“Y/N,” your mom called your name as she walked in the door.

You looked up, setting down the document on World War II. Your father was behind her, and you grew uneasy, wondering what they possibly felt they needed to both talk to you about.

“We’re worried about you, dear.”

“Worried? Why?” you laughed, surprised by their explanation.

“We’re just concerned that you don’t have the same social life people your age have. You seem to always be up here, studying in your room. We want you to meet some people, and have some fun,” your father explained.

You were confused by the explanation. You spent most of your time at school, and around other students. You did have friends, but you also prioritized your grades. You certainly were not the hermit they were making you out to be.

“You don’t need to worry-”

“But darling, you’ve never dated. One of our friends has the most charming son, and we think he’d be perfect for you. We want to set you up.” Your mother was smiling, and you raised your eyebrows.

“Perfect for me?”

“Yes! He’s so charming, and he’s sweet. He’s also incredibly intelligent, his grades are wonderful. He travels a lot, you know, has that worldly kind of sense. And, he’s beautiful. We were thinking of setting the two of you up, having them over for dinner.”

You couldn’t deny that this sounded too good to be true. The boy they were describing sounded perfect for you, and although you cringed at the idea of your parents setting you up, you were intrigued.

“What is his name?”

“James!” She beamed, and you raised your eyebrows.

“I will go on one blind date with him, if you stop giving me a hard time about my social life.”

“One date. You can meet him at dinner tomorrow, and then the two of you must go on one date. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. But try for us, honey.”

“I will, I promise,” you smiled at your parents, excited and nervous to meet your supposed dream-man.

You dressed up for dinner once you were home from school. You’d never even seen this boy, and yet your tummy was filling with excited butterflies. Your name was called from downstairs, and you quickly ran down to meet them.

You nearly tripped over yourself as you stopped dead in your tracks. You were met with an all-too-familiar silver gaze, and the smirk that made you so, so angry.

“Bucky.”

Your voice was cold, and all of the butterflies shriveled up and died, the excitement fading from you. You were furious that you’d agreed to go on a date with him in addition to sitting through this dinner.

“You two know each other?” His mother asked, surprised.

“Quite well, actually. We have history together at school, right doll?” Bucky was trying not to laugh, only fueling your irritation.

“It’s Y/N. And we’ve met, yes.”

This motherfucker.

Dinner was long and painful, and you were forced to listen to what a perfect prince everybody thought Bucky was. You were surprised to hear about his academic standing, one that competed with your own. It was clear by his expression that he didn’t want the news to get out that he wasn’t a complete anarchist.

You cringed as your parents praised you too, unsure of who they were trying to impress. You were quiet, not giving a single damn about being polite to the boy you hated.

“Why don’t the two of you go upstairs?” your mom suggested, and you sighed, holding back a massive eye roll. Being alone with Bucky was about last on the list of things you wanted to do.

You stood up under the pressure of four gazes, and Bucy followed you up the flight of stairs. He couldn’t contain his amusement for the situation, and you walked into your room and sat down on the edge of your bed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Did you know it was me?”

“No, I really didn’t. But I’m glad it is.” He almost sounded sincere.

Bucky looked around your room, taking in the soft lavender walls, and the white bedspread that you sat on top of. Everything was soft and sweet, like you. Fairy lights hung above the bed, casting a gentle glow over the room. Bucky thought you looked beautiful.

“Quit staring at me,” you snipped, pulling your knees up to your chest.

He smiled, stepping in from the doorway and sitting beside you on the bed. You were angry at yourself for noticing the way the lights seemed to make him look golden, glinting in the reflection of huge silver eyes.

“How could I not?” He breathed, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

No. No, this is not happening. You will not let yourself be seduced by this cocky asshole.

“Save it for the date,” you rolled your eyes and he smirked.

“You’re not looking forward to it?” Bucky asked, and you shook your head with a face.

“No, of course not.”

“Come on, I’ll show you a good time. You’ll probably even realize that you’re in love with me.” His grin was infectious, but you fought off the urge to smile back.

“In love with you? Hardly.”

“I’ll give you one night. You’ll change your mind.”

“You seem confident,” you snarked, rolling your eyes at his arrogance.

“I always am.”

You watched him as his eyes traveled over the room, seeming to take everything in. Bucky noticed every small detail, including the sketch of daisies that leaned against the wall on top of your desk.

When he was finally called away, he stood in front of you, leaning over you with one hand on the wrought iron bed frame. A soft smile broke onto his face, and you felt warmth spread through your chest, reaching up to your cheeks.

“Goodnight, doll.”

You scowled at the dress that was laid out in the end of your bed when you got home from school. You’d been dreading the date, especially when Bucky winked at you during history class. He didn’t make a show of embarrassing you in front of his friends. You hadn’t even heard gossip about it, so he must not have told anybody.

You were a bit surprised, you thought that Bucky would seize the opportunity to be the subject of gossip and attention, dragging you into it with him.

Your parents were out of town for the weekend, and you’d been set up for a friday date after school with Bucky. The doorbell rang, and you went to answer it, your eyes widening a bit when you saw him in jeans and a button down.

Fuck, he was handsome.

“Hi James.”

“Y/N, you look beautiful,” he said honestly, and you couldn’t stop the warmth from blossoming on your cheeks. He held up a bouquet of daisies, and you bit back a smile, taking your favorite flowers from him. You realized he noticed the drawing, and something about that made you feel fuzzy inside.

It was too bad you didn’t even like him.

“Let me set these down, thank you.”

You put them in a vase on the table, and he followed you.

“You didn’t tell everyone at school.” It was a statement, but you meant it as a question.

“Why would I? I knew you wouldn’t appreciate everyone in your business,” Bucky confessed. Despite the amusement he gained from getting on your nerves, Bucky did like you, and he did respect you. The idea of others participate in the teasing, more than just his bit of playfulness, upset Bucky.

He wanted you to like him.

You followed Bucky outside to his yellow car, one that was sort of vintage. He didn’t drive to school, and you realized you had never seen his car, but it somehow fit him. You got in the passenger seat, and he handed you the chord to play your own music.

You nervously scrolled through your phone, deciding that the safest bet for music was bon iver, and he broke into a smile, leaning forward to turn up the stereo.

“I love this song,” Bucky grinned, surprising you.

“Where are we going?” you asked, leaning forward and watching the buildings pass by as he drove you to an unknown location.

“Just trust me.”

He parked and was opening your door for you before you could get out. You stepped out and took his outstretched hand, deciding you had to at least give this as much of an effort as he was.

His hand was soft and he squeezed you gently as he led you inside the huge aquarium in the city. It was your favorite place to go, and you wondered how Bucky knew that.

“You mentioned it once, in class,” he spoke as if he read your mind, or at least read the bright smile on your face.

“I can’t believe you remembered... Or that you even listened,” you laughed.

“I always listen.”

You walked through tunnels filled with colorful fish, and they swam around you on all sides, even under your feet. You gasped and pressed your hands to the glass, letting go of Bucky as you watched a sea turtle swim by. Bucky watched your delight, smiling at your excited squeal.

“Look!” you pointed, and he grinned.

“I see, it’s so cool,” he indulged you.

You moved through the tunnel, into a room of separate tanks, all smaller and holding their own creatures. You struggled to see the clown fish in the top, even standing on your toes.

“What’re you doing, doll?”

“Trying to see the nemo fish, but-” you squeaked as Bucky’s hands went around your waist, and he lifted you up so you could see. You blushed and smiled, looking at the fish swimming around. He gently set you down, and you wrapped your hands around his arm, a little bit shyly.

The two of you spent hours looking at the creatures, and you let him wrap his arms around your waist as you stood and watched the jellyfish.

“They’re so pretty!” you gasped, and Bucky could see the reflection in your wide eyes, and he couldn’t ignore how his heart raced when he looked at you.

You found yourself feeling the same way.

“This was great, James. I didn’t think you’d manage to win me over, but this is the best date I’ve ever been on,” you confessed shyly as you left, the sky already dark. He beamed at you, his silver eyes lighting up when you smiled at him.

“I’m so glad, but we’re not finished yet, doll.”

“You spoil me,” you giggled, and he pulled you to the car.

“Come on, or we’ll miss it,” he hurried you, laughing as he got behind the wheel.

He drove to a park and got a blanket from the backseat, producing a basket that you hadn’t noticed before.

“Picnicking in the dark?”

“Hush and come with me,” he insisted, laying out the blanket on the grass and pulling the food out.

You bit into a piece of fruit, leaning against his side. You gasped as fireworks started to go off overhead, and you looked at Bucky, who just smiled back at you.

“I thought you’d like them.”

You watched the light and colors explode in the sky, enjoying the dinner he brought. You ended up leaning back against Bucky’s chest, wrapped in his jacket when you complained of being chilly. You couldn’t believe that over the course of a few hours, he had managed to work his way into your heart, and you were now in his arms.

“Do you want to come in and stay?” you asked Bucky as he pulled up in front of your house.

“I’m invited?”

“Yes.”

He smiled, grabbing sweats from his trunk, explaining that he always had a change of clothes, on account of being an athlete. You teased him with a giggle, going inside with him and up to your bedroom.

You changed into a pajama set and laid on your bed with him, the two of you staring up at the tiny, glittering fairy lights above you.

“You look perfect like this,” you whispered.

“Not as perfect as you.”

“What happens Monday? Do you go back to being an ass and I go back to hating you?” your voice was soft, and although you were joking, the fear behind it was real.

“I was hoping I could call you my girlfriend on Monday.”

You leaned over and kissed him, answering the question. When he kissed you back, it was like a million tiny fireworks exploding inside of you, instead of in the sky overhead.

“You changed my mind in one night.”

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