#I’d have pulled the ‘it was all a dream’ stunt again but I already did that so…

[bluebutlikenotalways]

And so we return, as all things do, to Centaurworld.

[X] Should I draw Nowhere King Black Pearl? Vote now!

ALSO! White Pearl’s design is once again cosmicwhoreo’s

Actually I’m not leaving this in the tags. I loved doing those funky backgrounds, but it also means a diversity loss because he fucking speared her on bisexual beach DX

[jeidafei]

Komui's Lounge: Vol.28 (Part 2/4)

>> Part 1

Q5: A question about Krory’s Innocence! I assume his synchro rate peaked during his battle with Jasdero. If that’s alright with you, could you please let me know the exact number?

Lavi: You’re talking ‘bout back in the Ark? Since we weren’t present, we don’t really know, though.

Reever: We do have Krory’s report and Hoshino’s additional input for that. Let’s see…It’s been speculated that when his body was no longer able to move, and he left it behind to fight on using only his blood, his synchro rate likely surpassed 100. Krory also reportedly said, “It was because Eliade was by my side that I was able to achieve that state”, that it wasn’t solely his power.

Allen: Miss Eliade, eh…? He’s saying that the consciousness of an exorcised Akuma appeared to him? Such things do happen, huh…

Kanda: Could’ve just been an illusion he saw. It’s never been reported that an Akuma’s consciousness possesses abilities like that.

Lavi: Well, only Krorykins knows the truth.

Lenalee: But if that weren’t an illusion, then what a beautiful yet tragic story…

Reever: That was the only time Krory’s synchro rate has ever surpassed 100. Currently, he could only go so far as 90% even at his best. To be honest, though, fighting only with your blood is far too risky. As a friend, I just wish he wouldn’t pull that stunt ever again.

Q6: Since Lenalee has “cute shoes” as one of her favorite things, I wonder if she’s also collecting shoes in the hopes that she would get to wear them someday?

Lenalee: Ehehe. To be honest, I do feel like collecting them, but I’m good for now. My brother and the Science Division guys made me this little beauty to go with my uniform. And I’ve already decided I’ll see this war through with it.

Allen: I think it really suits you.

Lenalee: Thanks, Allen-kun. Besides, they’re very comfortable, too.

Lavi: Well, of course. Considering the unprecedented levels of motivation and sleep deprivation Komui and the Science guys were functioning on when working on them heels.

Reever: Haha! Well, we all knew Lenalee’s always dreamed of wearing normal shoes, after all. And now that she’s become a Crystal type, she finally gets to choose her shoes, so we ended up pushing ourselves way too hard, I guess. Since we’re all just a bunch of geezers, we went and surveyed the women in the Order and stuff. We also asked Kanda loads of things.

Kanda: Hmph……

Allen: Kanda, you say? What did you ask him?

Reever: Well, Kanda went on missions with Lenalee often. And every now and then he’d see Lenalee practically glued to the display windows of local shoe stores. So, we had him tell us what kind of shoes she was looking at. Thanks, Kanda.

Kanda: Shut up.

Q7: Back when Kanda first experienced a hangover headache, he mused, “so this is normal, huh”. So has Kanda had other similar experiences when he noticed changes to his body?

Kanda: Come to think of it……

Lavi: What is it? What is it?

Kanda: My hair’s gotten stiff lately.

Allen and Lavi: Huh???

Reever: Only that?

Kanda: Only that. If it gets uncomfortable, I could just cut the whole thing anyway, so it’s no big deal.

Lenalee: Don’t do that, Kanda! You can use my shampoo next time!

(T/N: Kanda washes his hair with soap.)

Kanda: I don’t need your damn shampoo. I’d better cu—

Lenalee: NEVER!!

Q8: I would like to know if Lavi can hold his liquor. As a Bookman, is he practicing abstinence or the like?

Lavi: Hmm...We’re not actually abstinent. More like physically, both Gramps and I don’t take well to alcohol. Looks like it’s the same with earlier Bookmen, too.

Allen: Really? Is that so?

Lenalee: Right…Even when we threw parties and stuff at the Order, Bookman only drank the non-alcohol variety, too. I’ve seen Jeryy ordering them specifically for Bookman.

Reever: Now that you’ve mentioned it, we have another question pertaining to the Bookman Clan: Are Bookmen allowed to have lovers?  For the sake of the word count, why don’t you answer this as well while you’re at it?

Lavi: Um. Not exactly lovers…I mean, like, you can have kids. Even Gramps’ got children of his own.

Allen and Lenalee: What’s the difference?

Lavi: Eh? (sweating)

Allen and Lenalee: WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE? (Pure, innocent eyes)

Kanda: ……

Lavi: Well…you know…Like, you gotta have children for the sake of the clan…but when it comes to lovers, you get attached to them, right? So, you must avoid that at all costs. Sorry, can we move on to the next question already? (sweating)

Q9: Emilia was accepted into the Order pretty easily. That must have had something to do with Timothy, right? For Exorcists and Finders, once you join the Order, there seemingly is no going back. Is that not the case for normal Order members?

Reever: Rank-and-file or not, all Order members are subjected to strict regulations. Since Timothy’s still very young, Emilia was easily accepted into the Order for the sake of his mental health, but Emilia has resolved to live in the Order until the end of the war for Timothy’s sake. Of course, all her contact with the outside world is now monitored, and her freedom is limited. And she’s still but a lass. A near impossible feat, if you ask me.

Lenalee: Emilia kept saying it’s nothing but, early on, she was very anxious from the looks of it. Head Chef Jeryy worries about her, and he’s inviting her to his tea party every week.

Allen: Indeed. It’s thanks in large part to Miss Emilia’s efforts that Timothy is doing well.

Q10: The Order's golems’ design varies from person to person. Does this mean they can be custom-made according to each person’s preferences?

Reever: Yeah, to some extent. If anything, we want you to grow fond of them and use them, after all!

Lenalee: And that sentiment keeps piling more on your workload, and you all end up pulling all-nighters, right?  (sweating)

Allen: There’s this one thing that’s been bugging me for so long. You know how Kanda’s golem keeps randomly bursting into tears? And what’s up with the mischief-making?

Lavi: I knoooow, right? You specifically ordered that, Yu?

Kanda: I didn’t do nothing, dammit. Didi and this idiot Reever and them lot friggin' went ahead and forced it onto me.

Reever: Aaah, naah. Really, hehe (sweating). Yes, Kanda here did ask for the default model with no customization, but then Didi was like, “I’ll give him the most gosh-darned sentimental golem ever, jeeerst you wait.” Then he basically went to town on it like a man possessed and customized it as he pleased. Added the tear function and all that.

Lenalee: Well, you were such an emotionless boy, Kanda, so Didi was worried for you.

Kanda: It’s none of his damn business.

>> Part 3

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Serial killer au?

Funnily enough, I already had an AU like this where c!Dream was a serial killer and c!Tommy his first victim haunting him eternally and annoying him in revenge that I genuinely love and wanted to write more of… so thank you haha.

“You're really bad at hiding bodies, y’know?”

Dream clenched his fist tight enough to draw blood as the ghost continued his inane commentary from behind the sofa. “If you please,” he said as calm as he could, eyes still glued on the television reporting the body of that one beanie kid with the dumb glasses. “I'm trying to not get arrested.”

“Oh, boo fuckin' hoo. You might get locked in a small room. Well guess what.” Tommy floated in front of him now, obscuring his view. “You locked me in a small room for a month and then you fuckin' killed me, but you don’t see me complaining, do you, Big D?”

“You're complaining right now,” Dream pointed out, “and don’t call me Big D.”

“Too shay, Small D.”

“I wish I could kill you again.”

Tommy shrugged. “I mean, you could technically do that all you liked if you were dead, but I don’t think Sam’d be very happy with that. He’s already got you booked down for a couple millennia of torment for all the people you killed, and he adds on an extra century every time you insult me.” He snorted. “How does it feel having nepotism used against you, for once?”

“I genuinely do not care.”

“You will.”

“Well, that’s for in the future, when I’m not figuring out whether there’s going to be cops at my door.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I mean, you’d just pay them off anyway.”

“I don’t think you know how money works.”

“Nope!” Tommy cheerfully trilled. “And do you know why? It’s because you shot me.”

Dream sighed. He hated how Tommy acted like he wanted him dead. That was never what he wanted. He just wanted a friend, and apparently to him ten years ago the easiest way to do that was to commit a kidnapping. Which, to be fair, worked, up until it didn’t.

Dream sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t want to kill you, I just couldn’t let you escape. If you'd just stayed put, you’d be happy and alive right now!” He threw his hands up in exasperation, as the ghost looked at him in disbelief.

“… Jesus, sometimes I forget you have like, zero fuckin' grasp on how people think. You kidnapped me. I wanted to see my friends and… yeah, I didn’t really have a family, so just my friends. And, y’know, I’d rather not get beaten? I’d ask if you wouldn’t try and escape from that, but you’re so pathetically lonely you probably wouldn’t.”

Ugh, Dream hated how Tommy acted like he'd mistreated him. It wasn’t like those people later on, who were just boring and he shouldn’t have even put in the effort of trying to befriend. Tommy was like a little brother to him! He wouldn’t have so much as laid a hand on him if he stopped trying to pull silly stunts like escaping. “Look, what more did you want me to do? I gave you a home, I gave you food. I got you a DS with Pokemon Pearl so you’d stop complaining about being bored all the time!”

“Well, you should have got me Pokemon Platinum, then, prick.”

[prettyvampiress96]

Triple threat Felix x Reader x Heidi MEGA SMUT 18+

Today was a great day your mate Heidi has the day off after working for 4 days straight. You saw so little of each other recently that you both basked in the opportunity of each others touch. Your naked bodies all one entanglement, Heidi's hands were holding yours above your head. As she kissed your soft warm lips she ground her weight against you making you gasp , allowing her tongue the access she wanted so desperately. You were both so wrapped up in the battle of tongues that neither of you had heard someone enter until the door clicked shut. You and Heidi both jump startled at the intrusion. "Well isn't this just a sight lucky me , I'm watching or I'm joining. You can pick" Felix teased taking a seat in the chair not far from the bed. You felt yourself get hot and flustered. It was one thing you had dreamed about sure but to have it actually happening was not what you had expected.

"How do you feel about adding another babe?" you turned asking Heidi, your eyes cast down playing with the corner of the blanket. Heidi gripped your chin with her fingers moving your head up for you to look at her. " I had no idea you were into this kind of situation my love if your absolutely sure darling" Heidi agreed and you nodded somewhat excited in return. Felix sat with wide eyes not expecting the both of you to agree. You looked from Heidi to Felix ,checking him out, you couldn't help but notice the tent in his trousers making you bite your lip.

"Did you just look me up and down and then bite your delicious looking lips? Because if you did then there's no going back baby doll" Felix said huskily. As Felix began rushing to undress himself Heidi turned to you pinching your already bare nipple between her fingers causing a whimper to rise in your throat. "Just don't forget who you truly belong too little dove" Heidi teased before looking to Felix. "Don't just go whipping it out like that Jesus" Heidi snarked rolling her eyes making you giggle. Felix stood with his hands on his hips his long thick penis already erect.

You couldn't take your eyes away until Heidi began pushing Felix on the bed near you, Reaching out you began slowly running your hands down his rather muscular chest . Heidi hummed in satisfaction. "To start us off why doesn't my little dove show you how godly talented she is with that mouth of hers , while I fuck my dirty little dove with my fingers". She taunted.

"Think you can handle this" Felix asked with his eyes on you. You nodded in agreement moving down between his legs Felix groaned at the sight. You bent over and slowly began inching your way down his cock , tracing his bulging veins as you did eventually hitting your gag reflex . You grasped the base of his penis as best as you could given his girth size , you sunk your head down finding a rhythm between your mouth and hand adding a squeeze here and there. You could feel Heidi's cool breath on your clit as she gave it one long lick making you jolt forward , allowing Felix to go further down your throat. Heidi inserted her two slender fingers , finding your pace all to quickly she began scissoring her fingers hitting your sweet spot each time making you moan around Felix's seeping cock. "I love the way you look with my fingers buried inside you baby" Heidi groaned. Feeling the all to familiar knot in your abdomen, you closed your teeth around Felix's cock and slowly dragged them up to reach the head licking up the pre cum. Felix's hand found itself in your hair pulling it all up to give himself a better view.

"OH kitten don't do that again " he growled at you. You sunk your head back down one more time , only this time Heidi applied pressure to your g spot causing you to completely bite down while your grasp got tighter on Felix , as you came over Heidi's hand Felix shot his cum right down your throat. "Your ass is going to be seven shades of red after that little stunt" Felix growled lightly, reaching to pull you into his lap with your ass facing up in his lap . He gave you 7 spankings , turning your ass as he said 7 shades of red . When he was done he spun you around planting a kiss to your lips. "Heidi you were right her mouth is truly talented, I believe I'd like to hear what the little human wants next" Felix grinned at you. You thought for a moment before speaking. "Eat me " you blurted out. Both vampires spun to look at you thinking they couldn't have heard you right. "but If we do that you'll die" Felix exclaimed. Heidi began laughing sending you a wink she pulled you up on to the bed with her . "that wasn't what she meant Felix" Heidi burst out laughing as she situated you between her legs so your bare back was against her front her hands moving to massage your breasts causing you to throw your head back biting back a groan. "Well Felix are you going to stand there or are you going to taste what my darling has to offer?" Heidi taunted him. "Be a good girl and spread those legs little one?" you did as he said. "Such a nice pretty pussy" Felix hummed before his mouth enclosed your entire clit. He began licking back and forth with varying speed. Each time his tongue brushed over your bundle of nerves you jolted , had it not been for Heidi's arms around your chest , lord only knows where you would be.

"Focus on my voice sweet baby , can you feel Felix ? every lick and Every suck . He may have you now but nobody will know how to work you the way I do" and with that she put her lips to yours before pinching both nipples . Your orgasm came gushing through you like a flood you couldn't stop. Felix raised his head from between your legs , his eyes darting from you and Heidi. "My word Heidi she even tastes divine. Id choose her over blood any day" Felix mewled liking every last bit of you from his mouth. "I want him to fuck you so that in future you'll know no one fucks you like I do" Heidi teased . She patted the bed for Felix to lay before she got up.

You climbed onto Felix's lap eager to feel him inside you. Lining him up with your entrance, you looked to Heidi to find her watching you intently only spurring you on. "Come on little one, take it all on your own like the good little pet you are" as he spoke those words he thrusted his hips to meet yours as you came down causing him to bottom out inside you. "Christ she's so warm and tight" he groaned . You placed your hands on his chest and began rising yourself up and down , Felix watching as your breasts bounced in time with every movement . "I like you better when you can't speak fe " , she sauntered her way over to Felix before sitting on his face , her face facing you while her arms spread out over the headboard.

You felt so turned on watching the scene that you picked up the pace , your legs would be sore in the morning but hell so would the rest of you . Felix's thrusts became harder and deeper as he ate out Heidi simultaneously . Heidi came and climbed down from Felix's face in time for the pair to watch your climax to hit with such force , your vision became blurry and as you tightened your walls around Felix his arms raised to grab the headboard breaking the entire thing from the bed . All three of you laid on the bed for a few moments , Heidi wrapped her arms around your waist , waiting for your heart to slow. "As perfect as this was I have to get back to my duties, my friends" Felix announced. "Friends , no friends shouldn't know how to taste" you mumbled from the crook of Heidi's neck. Heidi giggled waving Felix out and you passed out sleeping . She wondered how she got given a gift like you.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Heartbreak For A Gift (Part 1/?)

Synopsis: Sometimes relationships start off like love stories in books. And sometimes they fall apart in a minute.

(Kind of an AU! I guess??)

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst bruh

Warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, but nothing else that I can remember. Minimal editing

Word count: 2547

A/N: Please note I don’t know what the situation is between Harry and Olivia, if it’s a stunt or they’re actually dating. Whatever the case do not harass them. This is fiction and only for the purposes of the story. If they’re actually together - GOOD FOR THEM!!! No one is entitled to other people’s private lives!

Can be read as a one-shot if ya want, but I might turn this into a very small series cause I already have ideas as to where to go further with this, so hit me up if that’s what you’d like :)

If you know you’re a part of my tag list and see you’ve been crossed out, it means I can’t tag you for whatever reason. If you still would like to be a part of my tags please message me with your previous username and updated so I can update my lists :)

When she’d first said yes to going out with Harry, she’d had zero ideas as to who he really was. Well, that was a lie, she obviously knew of him, it’s not like she completely lived under a rock, and she’d seen a couple of his interviews, but 'One Direction' or Harry Styles as a solo artist hadn’t been that big of parts of her life, so she didn’t really care much for it.        They’d met at a bookstore on a sunny day in London. That’d been a good day. Her boss had let her go home a bit earlier than usual, the weather was warm, but not it’s-so-warm-I’m-sweating-my-ass-off kind of warm, sunglasses covering her eyes and hair free as the warm summer winds blew through her locks she was walking beside the Thames on her way inside the heart of the city.        Because she had a little bit more free time, she decided to pop into Waterstones, which was generally not a good idea for Y/N to do if she had things in store for the day; this time she could spend the rest of the evening if she wanted to, browsing books and living her best life.        Surprisingly for London, that particular Waterstones, even though it was in a densely populated area, was pretty empty, so Y/N felt free to skim through the options without having to press through a crowd of people to find the next section.        As she scanned what the shelves of New-Adult fiction offered, a man also came to look at the books. He stayed a bit further away, but he was certainly someone who caught people’s attention with the bright green daisy-print covered T-shirt, chequered shorts and the three scrunchies on his wrist.        The thing was as much as he’d grabbed Y/N's attention, she was more interested in the Waterstones exclusive edition of a book she’d been dying to buy, so when she saw it just sitting on the shelf, a small gasp escaped her lips.        Two eyes were immediately on her, and Y/N could feel them slip back onto her form from time to time as she greedily paged through the book, but she couldn’t say her own Y/E/C eyes didn’t flit over to the man as well.        He had a small bun on the top of his head, curly hair pushed away from the face, cheekbones for days, which were shaved and smooth and perfectly groomed brows arching over what seemed to be green orbs which were looking at the spine of a crime book way too intensely for it to be genuine interest. All in all, his side profile would be that of one of the characters Y/N’d simp over in a book, let alone the nails painted all colours of the rainbow which made her happy because nothing was better to see someone sticking it to the patriarchy.        But their little meet-cute was interrupted as an employee apologised while he tried to squeeze past them with a giant cart filled with new release books, and almost like a lost puppy, she started to follow the stacks of books when a hand on her shoulder made her spin around only to be faced with the man. She instantly recognised his face, but, at the same time, couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him that was so familiar.

       “Sorry,” he said in a rough voice. “But you left this behind.”        And in his hands was the Waterstones exclusive.        Y/N’s eyes widened as she gingerly took it from him. “Oh my god, thank you! I’ve got no idea how I let it out of my fingers.”        He chuckled, motioning with his chin to the employee disappearing by the corner. “I’d say you got distracted.”        “Yeah, a little.” She bit her lip and drummed her nails against the cover of the book. “Well, uh… thank you. For not grabbing it for yourself.”        But he just lifted his hand. “More of a Murakami kind of a man.”        “Yes, well, I,” she nodded towards the book in her own hand, “like to read about people living out my dreams.”        He raised his eyebrow. “It’s a murder mystery.”        “Your point?”        “Would you say I have issues then if I wanted to ask you out on a date?”        Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest, but he looked so nervous, so genuinely open and almost scared, she couldn’t feel any ill intentions from him, so she tapped her chin a bit as if contemplating before saying, “No. I’d say you have good taste actually.’        The relieved laugh he let out made him seem even prettier than Y/N already thought he was.        He extended his palm towards her, swaying on the balls of his feet a bit. “ ‘M Harry. Would probably be proper to know my name before we go anywhere further.”        “Y/N.” She smiled and clasped his hand in hers. “And it would probably be proper to know I was kidding about the whole ‘watching others live out my dreams’. People living out my dreams are actually in the books having hot sex with Fae.”        His laughter was loud and sudden, making Y/N duck down like she was in her Uni library and the librarians would come and shush them. But now, almost two years later since they’d first met, there was no sign of those butterflies she’d felt in the middle of the thriller section of Waterstones. Now Y/N was sitting by a large table, body slowly numbing as was her mind to keep the pain from her heart spreading. Whatever Jeff was talking about now, she didn’t hear. There were eyes on her, had to be to gauge her reaction, but they wouldn’t get anything more than slightly parted lips and a blank stare turned towards the marbled top.        She knew Harry was nervous; from her peripheral vision, she saw his thumb scraping at the rest of his nail lacquer, chips of pastel yellow and green polish flaking off and floating to the carpeted floor.        Y/N didn’t like LA. She’d never wanted to go there. Maybe as a tourist for a couple of weeks sometime down the line, but because of Harry and his commitment to ‘Don’t Worry, Darling’ and because he’d basically pleaded with her for days on end, she’d agreed to move there with him for the time he was shooting the movie.        It’s not that the city wasn’t beautiful. The sun, the sea, the greenery surrounding her was absolutely breath-taking, but it was the people that she didn’t really mesh with. Sure, she knew dating Harry came with a lot of what LA’s society was like. The need to look absolutely physically perfect to match the unachievable barbie standard, the fake niceness people usually exhibited just to get something for themselves or possibly raise them higher on the popularity scale, but Harry had always wiped away those doubts. But now all of that seemed like one big lie. He’d told her he didn’t care for any of it, not when it concerned Y/N nor when it concerned himself. But the contract in front of them said something different.        A hand touched her back. “Y/N?” Harry’s voice was tentative, wavering at the end of her name.        For the first time since the proposal had been thrown out, she lifted her eyes to look around at the people in the room.        Harry, Jeff, both their attorneys and Olivia Wilde and her attorney. The other woman, once their gazes met, immediately looked away. Y/N wanted to scoff at that.        “What…” Harry gulped, brushing a hand across her back. She’d never flinched away from him, but this time she did. Harry visibly shrunk in his seat and pulled back. “What do you think?”        What did she think? Well, she was thinking a lot of things, and the urge to say all of them was immense, but instead Y/N bit down on her tongue, reaching for the legal papers in front of her and skimmed through them.        She’d read each and every word as they’d been read out loud by the attorney, and every letter had been burned into her brain now. There was no way to get them out from her mind, and they’d haunt her forever.        “The fact that you’re asking me what I think of it already means you’re considering this.” Surprisingly enough, her voice was steady even though she was on the verge of collapsing after everything. “So, I’ll make this really easy for you – do it. Because, from now on, you’re a single man and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”        Harry’s face paled immediately at her words, hand moving to grasp Y/N’s, but they were in a tight ball in her lap, not moving an inch at his touch.        “Y/N, please.” Olivia was the one reaching out now, a pained and terrified look on her face, but the girl just stood up from her chair and went to the coat rack taking her coat and the bag that was discarded by it.        “No, you asked what I thought.” Tears had started to form in her eyes while she shrugged on her jacket. “This is what I think. If you even for a second assumed I’d be alright with this shitty stunt, Harry, then through the last two years we've spent together, you’ve learned nothing about me, and to me, it means it’s not worth it.”        Harry was now standing, desperate to touch her face, but Y/N once again pulled away.         “You two,” Y/N said pointing between Olivia and Harry, their faces twins of fear and regret. “Have never needed publicity. Not like this, so don’t try and bullshit me that this will make great promo for the movie. There are so many other ways you could drum up interest, but this…” She let out an unamused chuckle. “How could you think I’d be okay with you pretending to be in a relationship with someone else?”        “No, please… just hear us out. You don’t know what it’s like.” Harry tried to plead, hands in his hair, but it was the wrong thing to say, as she took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief.          But Y/N was calm, and with how rigid Harry became he knew he’d fucked up more than before.        “I don’t understand?" she breathed. “The number of things and events I’ve said ‘no’ to… the…” Her voice was as still as the sea before a storm as she took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Harry wants Y/N there for the opening of his tour, so Y/N drops everything and flies out even though she misses a presentation that could have her up for a promotion. Harry doesn’t want to be seen walking inside a club with someone, so Y/N goes to the back entrance to save his face. Harry is tired and just wants to sleep, so Y/N passes on her friends’ birthdays because he wants cuddles. What Harry wants, Y/N does. And I did. I did all that happily while keeping our relationship private while snaking in and out through back doors like I was some dirty secret of yours just so you could keep the illusion you’re single…” Y/N shook her head. “I think I understand very well… But now… it’s my turn, my time to ask of you something.”        “Anything,” he pleaded, probably thinking that Y/N was going to ask him not to go with Jeff’s stunt, and he’d gladly tell them all to fuck off if it meant her staying. “I’ll do anything.”        “Let me go.”        If Harry’s heart hadn’t been in his chest you would’ve been able to hear it break as it smashed against the floor.        “Let me go,” she repeated. “And don’t come after me. Because I won’t take any part in this.”        “But –,” he was choking on his words. “But I don’t want to. I love you; I can’t just let you walk away like that. I won’t do it, none of this is worth it.”        “And I didn’t want to do a lot of things, especially sit in a meeting on Valentine’s day where my boyfriend was talking about faking a relationship to promote a fucking movie, but here we are.”        This time when he reached out to cup her cheek, Y/N let him. “Please. I swear I won’t do it, just please let’s talk about this. Don’t give up on me.”        But she was unwavering. “For the rest of our relationship, however long that might’ve been, I would’ve wondered if you hated me if you despised me for not agreeing to go with it if the movie didn’t do as well as your management predicts it will with this. And I won’t have that. I won’t be in a relationship where every second will be spent in doubt that I’m stifling your career and you could potentially resent me.”        “I could never hate you.”        “Yeah.” She let out a sob. “You actually claim to love me but would be willing to put me through that kind of fuckery, so something has to be a lie.”        Without looking at anyone else in the office, Y/N stepped away from the man who once made her feel like she could conquer the top of the world and opened the door, but didn’t even manage to take a step outside when the voice of the person she never wanted to hear from called after her, and although Y/N had been calm and collected, she snapped at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Jeff,” she snarled. “It’s not like I can talk about anything that happened here. You made sure of it. Smart move, by the way, I’d say you should continue it. NDAs right before any meeting… I guess that’s how you keep your clients' careers spotless, so your stunt won’t be exposed.”        The way she whipped around to move towards the door would’ve given her whiplash, if not for Harry standing in front of her, arms weaving around to keep her in place.        “I’m sorry." He was verging on hysterics. "Please just… please Y/N don’t…”        It seemed like he no longer even understood what he was pleading for. For Y/N to not break up? To not leave the room? LA? All he knew was that if he let her walk out of the door, he’d never see her again, and she’d make sure of it.        “No, Harry, I think I actually will, because the thought of being in the same city as you, is going to make me throw up right now,” Y/N said eyes not daring to meet his, because if she did, she'd break and her resolve would dissipate. “Besides, you have loads of things to talk about. By the time you get back, I’ll have my stuff out of the hotel. And Jeff?”        His manager looked sheepish as she glanced at Y/N.        “The least you owe me is a ticket back home. The first flight you can find.”        He didn’t answer, just nodded. She didn't deign to thank him.        “Happy fucking Valentines to you two.” She looked at Olivia and Harry, who was breaking apart at the seams, but no longer could she find it in herself to care. He didn’t care enough about her anyway. “Hope you have a very happy relationship.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​ @raylovessarcasm

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: I’m (kinda?) back? I guess. I dunno. I’m in this weird place where I’m writing my books and then I get inspo for fics and I start writing them, but can’t seem to finish them so I dunno :D

P.S. what did ya think?

P.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms (Wattpad Ao3 etc without specific written permission)

P.S.S.S. my tags are always open :)

[perriewinklenerdie]

Waiting (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 2,4 k

Summary: OH3 Chapter 5 added scene. Ethan and Tobias talk as they wait for the surgery to be over. ft. cute moments between Ethan and Claire

Warnings: None

A/N: Tobias and Ethan friendship will happen. If PB won’t let me make this happen (they will but still), then Imma make it happen myself.

Tobias took a deep breath as the air of the early autumn ruffled his hair. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm light on his face. He dug his hands into the pockets of his white coat, closing his eyes for a moment. A slight smirk tugged on the corners of his lips at the memory of the meeting he just got out of. He’s always enjoyed teasing Ethan and at some point, that teasing escalated to arguing and one-upping him – he enjoyed the latter even more.

A surprised shriek pulled him out of his wonder, prompting his eyes to open. The sound was filled to the brim with happiness, not raising the alert in his mind, so he calmly looked around in search of the source. And found it rather quickly.

His eyes fell onto a couple, standing in the middle of the garden near the hospital. The man had his arm wrapped tightly around the woman, keeping her close to him. His shoulders shook slightly as he laughed at something she said, then their lips met in a kiss so intense that it made Tobias want to look away. But he didn’t.

Because it might have been the very first time he’s ever seen Ethan Ramsey this relaxed around someone. This happy. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, but upon blinking a couple of times, he was sure – it was Claire and Ethan.

They pulled apart slightly, enough for Tobias to see a wide grin on Ethan’s face as he said something to her, staring into her eyes. He dove towards her right after, caressing the side of her neck tenderly, his other hand gripping the fabric of her white coat at her back.

Their lips meet again, softer this time, gentler, like he was savoring the taste and the feel of her by his side. Come to think of it, he probably was – Tobias himself knew that these two had their fair share of experiences, so it wasn’t all that surprising that Ethan would behave like this, even if it wasn’t what Tobias came to expect from him.

The same intensity, coupled with softness, could easily be found in the way Claire’s arms wrapped around Ethan’s neck, pulling him downwards so they were at a similar height. That made him laugh, breaking the kiss for a second before he adjusted his grip, pulling her upwards, the tips of her shoes barely touching the ground.

When they eventually separated for good, Tobias could very clearly notice their heavy breathing and how they held onto one another despite the fact that the intense moment was behind them. What was left was the tenderness in their smiles and the gentleness of Ethan’s touch when he traced the corner of Claire’s lips with his thumb.

Tobias didn’t need to observe the pair any longer, feeling not like he was invading their privacy – they were making out in the middle of the public garden, for god’s sake – but like he’s seen enough. He’d tease his old friend about this later. With one final look at the pair, he turned back around and went into the hospital.

~

Ethan walked back to the table in the office, balancing three cups of coffee in his hold. They’ve been waiting for two hours already, with no news regarding Francis. He stopped by Claire’s side, letting her take two cups out of his hands before he turned to Tobias, handing him the third one. His old friend eyed the coffee, then looked up at him with surprise in his eyes and hesitation in every move he did and didn’t make. A short while later, he accepted the cup with a nod, watching Ethan as he walked back to his seat.

Knowingly to both men or not, Claire seated herself between them for a reason. If they were supposed to spend the next couple of hours in that office, they needed to not kill one another in the meantime. If she had to be a buffer, then so be it.

Sitting down, Ethan took his coffee from his girlfriend, her inviting smile eliciting one of his own. The rich flavor helped his tired body wake up a bit, caffeine speeding up his heartbeat a little. He heard a soft hum of appreciation and approval from Claire, his lips curling upwards at the sound.

None of them said a word for the next couple of minutes, finishing their drinks in silence. It allowed Ethan to finally sit down and process what happened that day.

He’s working with Tobias again.

Not even in his wildest dreams would he have come up with such an idea. Nightmares, sure, though he didn’t let such ridiculous notions occupy his mind. Tobias would be the last person he’d consider for a spot on his team, considering both their professional turmoil and the personal one. If they couldn’t hold a civilized conversation outside of work, how the hell were they supposed to put everything that’s happened aside to work together as a team?

He should have known that Bloom would pull something like this – he’s never trusted the man. He wouldn’t trust him with his coffee order, not to mention something as integral as the choice of the member of the team. Every time his new boss inserted himself into their work, despite not knowing a damn thing about it, he wanted to shove a piece of paper down his throat. But he couldn’t – and Claire wouldn’t let him, no matter how much she agreed with him that Bloom deserved that and so much more.

But he didn’t have any choice in that matter now. Tobias was the member of the team. Whether he liked it or not, they would be seeing each other every day and they would have to put their differences aside. If not for the sake of their sanities, then for the sake of their patients.

Perhaps it was time to finally sit down and have a mature conversation about everything that went down all those years ago, like he wanted to do before. They will never go back to what their friendship used to be, too many things have happened. What they could do was resolve the past and try to move forward – Claire’s advice rang in his ears at that idea.

All that would have to wait, however, because in that moment, they had bigger issues than their personal problems. Francis was lying on the table in the OR as Harper raced against the time, and all they could do was wait – he always loathed that part.

His attention has been stolen by the subtle movement near his hand. Claire took his empty cup out of his hand, standing up to take Tobias’s too to get rid of them. Ethan’s eyes followed her as she deposited them on the tray by the coffee machine and walked back to her seat. As soon as she was within his reach, he took her hand into his, tangling their fingers together and giving them a gentle squeeze. She smiled at him, turning her body towards him wordlessly. Her thumb traced the line of his bones, the motion soothing him.

“I can’t decide if I’m tired or restless.” Tobias breathed out deeply, drumming his fingers on the table. The break of silence was welcomed by his other two companions – they were all getting tired of the quiet tension that filled the room to the brim, getting thicker by the minute, making it harder to breathe.

“I’m stressing out, but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open any longer.” Claire concluded, letting her head fall onto Ethan’s shoulder softly. He wrapped his arm around her pulling her into his embrace, a hint of a helpless grin stretching his features.

“You just drank coffee.” He argued, turning his head to look at her. She glanced up at him, scrunching her nose adorably.

“That’s the best way to have a powernap. Scientifically proven.”

“By who?” Tobias asked, smirking suspiciously at the younger woman. She retorted without missing a beat, turning around and leaning out of her seat to look at him.

“By me. Works wonders.” Having finished her line, she fell back into Ethan’s waiting arms, nesting herself into her boyfriend’s embrace once more. He nudged her head with his nose as he mused under his breath.

“If you say so.”

Not much later, her breathing evened out and she fell into a light slumber, burying her face into his neck. Ethan looked down at her with adoration sparkling in his eyes, closing his own eyes for a moment. It didn’t last long, though.

“If you told me years ago that we’d both be on the Diagnostic Team together, I’d call you an idiot.” Tobias started speaking, seemingly innocently, but there was something to his tone that indicated that it was only the beginning.

“If you told me I’d have to work with you despite everything you’ve done, I would have called you an idiot too. Or perhaps something else, more suitable for the occasion.”

“Hey now, E, there’s no need to be so dramatic. If we’re going to be seeing each other every day, we need to be friendly.” He grinned brightly, his eyes falling onto the woman in Ethan’s arms. “Look at Herondale and I, we can be very friendly.”

Ethan scoffed at him, trying to ignore the pang he felt at the last words. He adjusted his grip on her, hugging her just a tiny bit tighter, more securely.

“We have to be civil long enough to get our work done, but don’t think that you walking in here, smiling, will erase the stunts you’ve been pulling all those years. It doesn’t work like that.”

Silence hung between them as their stares tried one another, daring the other to break first. For what must have been the first time, Tobias relented, looking away with tension in his eyes.

“I am aware of that.”

Ethan, convinced that it was the end of the conversation, twisted his frame the slightest bit, allowing Claire to get more comfortable in her sleep. He gazed at their joined hands, her grip secure despite not being aware of that. Her closeness relaxed him like nothing else, his exchange with Tobias suddenly a thousand miles away from his mind. With a private smile, he pressed a gentle kiss to her hair, letting out a deep breath.

Tobias watched the pair silently – not for the first time. But it was the first time that he got to see them from such a close proximity. Even in a situation as tense as the one they all were in right now, they somehow managed to find peace in each other. He’s known Ethan for over a decade and he’s never met a person that was able to lead him away from seeing red with just one look. It’s like she somehow put a spell on him, and to Tobias, it seemed that Ethan was well aware of that – and did nothing to change it. He welcomed it with open arms. “She really got you good, huh?”

Ethan slowly turned his head to face him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, come on. Ethan Ramsey, the notorious workaholic, going home after work on time every single day? Walking around the hospital with a grin on his face?” he started pointing out everything he’s noticed during only his first day of working on the team, as well as things he’s heard from the nurses. Ethan remained silent, unsure where this was going.

“Making out with his girlfriend when he thinks no one’s looking?” at that, Ethan’s eyes widened slightly, a hint of a blush climbing onto his cheeks. “Yeah, we all saw your little escapade yesterday. Very charming scenery, red roses suit her.” Tobias nodded towards Claire, then looked at his old friend again. “Not you, though. Red is not exactly your color – I would know, since that’s exactly the color of your cheeks right now.”

“You think you’re funny, don’t you.”

“We both know that I am, E.”

They shared a look and for a moment, they were back at university, thick as thieves. Two friends who could talk about everything. Then the reality caught up to them and Tobias cleared his throat, falling quiet immediately after. The next time the silence was broken, it was Ethan who did it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever properly thanked you.” his voice was deep and low, overcame by emotions of unknown to Tobias origin.

“For what?”

“For saving her.”

Both men looked at Claire, sleeping, blissfully unaware of the conversation that was happening right over her head. Ethan’s eyes softened at the sight of her, safe and sound in his arms.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I lost her.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Tobias responded, his hand rising on its own to pat Ethan’s shoulder, but he refrained from doing so. Instead, he offered a timid smile that was accepted and eventually mirrored.

“Just… do yourself a favor – hold onto her. And hold on tight.” He continued, saying all the things Ethan already knew. “She’s an amazing woman and, god help her, she sure wants you.”

“Believe me, I don’t know what I did to get this lucky either.” Blue-eyed attending sighed thoughtfully, choosing to ignore the obvious dig directed at him, staring at his girlfriend with a look of wonder in his eyes instead. The new doctor in the team gave him a moment to himself, focusing on the wall in front of him.

And then, in true Tobias Carrick fashion, he threw in a line to break the tension. “She could make any man feel like he’s on top of the world, so I’d watch out if I were you.”

“You’re no competition for me.” Ethan countered, grinning at his old friend, letting the wave of nostalgia wash other them both. Tobias punched his shoulder lightly, faking offense at the words. For hours, they would wait for Harper to emerge from the OR, talking quietly about old and new times as the youngest member of the team lied in her boyfriend’s arms, having heard every word since she closed her eyes.

Notes

The trick actually works wonders, I would know, it saved my ass more times than I care to admit. Well, it works 9 out of 10 times. My girl C landed herself in that 10%. Good for her, some delicious subjects were discussed :D

Tagging separately

[vs-redemption]

hii! i swear i read your request rules but i’m still worried this doesn’t follow them. anyway i figured i’d ask and you can obviously decline ahahah. i just read Gray and it’s so well written and makes my heart shiver and i wanted to ask if you’d write a part 2 or a one shot/scenario of having levi as a soulmate in the same eye color soulmate au as Gray? thank you !! :) (^･ｪ･^)

From Cindy: I apologize for taking so long to get to this! It took me a while to get an idea I liked, and then I had trouble getting into the mindset to write it. Inspiration finally struck though, and this is the result! I hope you like it!

Soulmates (Levi x GN!Reader)

Based on the same AU as Gray (Levi x Gn!Reader)

⚠️angst and hints of sex work (Levi’s Mom)⚠️

Levi loved safety

Being born in an extremely run down and sketchy part of the city was one of the worst fates a person could experience. Ever since Levi could remember, he’d been burdened with warnings from his mother who had learned most lessons about living amongst the dregs of society the hard way. He never stepped a foot outside their tiny one room home without hearing her voice expressing concerns about who he talked to, which streets he went down, how late he stayed out, and which shops he visited. There was danger everywhere and no one to protect him.

“Levi, stay close to me,” the woman would say to him when he was younger. Even going out in the middle of the day was a risk for them because his mother had a reputation. In order to feed him and keep the roof over his head, she’d reduced herself to a line of work that garnered an uncomfortable amount of negative attention. In a world ruled by the existence of soul mates, everything about their lifestyle was wrong and all it took was seeing a woman with duel colored eyes and a child for someone to know she’d committed the biggest taboo.

At first, Levi didn’t understand why anything about his mother’s appearance would cause such a stir. He’d seen plenty of people with two colored eyes, including himself. As he got older though, his curiosity grew and one day he made the mistake of asking about his father. The pained look on his mother’s face filled him with regret immediately, but he sat and listened to her intently as she explained the ways of their harsh reality.

“Your eyes are a promise,” she’d told him as delicately as possible. “A promise not to share yourself with anyone until you meet the person who you are destined to find and be with forever.” Levi had been filled with sadness for his mother when she admitted to breaking her promise. It was clear that she’d only committed such a disapproved act out of absolute necessity. People were judgmental though and could only see the fact that Levi’s father had not been the woman’s soulmate, which is why her eyes remained mismatched.

“You can still find them,” Levi had tried to hold on to a glimmer of hope for her, but she just smiled sadly and shook her head. The likeliness was low at her age, and even if they happened to cross paths, her past and status as a single mother would drive any respectable person away.

Levi loved stability

After learning about and coming to terms with the truth of this mother’s situation, Levi became determined to help her out in any way possible. He didn’t want the woman sacrificing herself for him any longer. And once he got older, he begged her to start staying home while he did what he could to provide for them both.

“It’s not your job to take care of me, Levi.” She’d smiled at this thoughtfulness while cupping his cheek in her delicate hand. “Everything I’ve done will have been worth it as long as you can have a better life than me.”

He understood her sentiment, but was too stubborn to give up. It was hard to find honest work in a town full of desperation and poverty, but Levi did his best. He took odd jobs here and there, and tried not to get mixed up in any of the bad business that ran rampant in the area. The money he earned wasn’t nearly enough to cover the cost of his small home though. After a handful of threats from the landlord to toss them out on the street, Levi knew he had to do more.

Levi loved familiarity

Resorting to petty theft went against everything Levi’s mother had taught him, and he knew it would probably break her heart if she ever found out. Still, he couldn’t allow their home to be taken away, or worse, his mother to return to the work she’d done before.

He had to be smart though. Being caught stealing in his neighborhood could get him killed. Going into the nicer parts of the city would be a better bet. He didn’t know the area as well, of course, but there was the benefit that he wouldn’t be recognized if anyone saw him. If he did happen to get caught by law enforcement, he’d end up in a jail cell rather than a cold ditch somewhere. Neither option was ideal, but stealing from the rich would have to do until a better plan presented itself.

Things went decently for a while, and Levi was a quick learner. He figured out what worked and what didn’t without having too many close calls. He made sure only to take enough to get by since the thought of being too similar to the criminals he’d grown up around made him sick to his stomach. It was only a matter of time though before his luck ran out. Rumors of a pickpocket spread and people began to act more cautiously about carrying their valuables out in the open, forcing Levi to get more reckless with his stunts.

It was on a particularly frustrating day that Levi caught a glimpse of you. More accurately, he caught a glimpse of the leather purse filled with coins hanging from your hip as you chatted away with a friend outside a popular confectionary. With practiced movements, he slipped into the crowd and made his way in your direction, thinking that snatching up the money would be simple and easy. He’d made a mistake though. Your pouch wasn’t tied up like he was used to, but secured with a metal ring designed specifically to prevent the very act he was trying to pull.

You begin to turn around as soon as you feel the tug on your belt and Levi freezes for a moment, trying to think of a way to get out of the situation. One word from you and everyone in the vicinity would be on him. As soon as your duel colored eyes met his however, something happened that put all other thoughts out of both of your minds. Levi watched in shock as you blinked once, twice, and then suddenly your left eye changed color completely to match your right. The look of initial alarm on you face softened and Levi knew he had to get out of there. He turned on his heel, ducked his head down, and walked away as quickly and as naturally as his legs would allow. He waited for any sign that he was being pursued for a moment or two and then broke into a run.

Levi loved certainty

In his panic, Levi didn’t even greet his mother as he rushed past her once arriving at home. His heart was pounding and a light sweat covered his forehead uncomfortably. He went straight to the bathroom to stand in front of the cracked mirror above the sink. It took a few seconds to muster up the courage to look into his reflection and find that everything that had happened was real. The two colored eyes that he was so used to were gone.

“Levi, sweetie, are you all right?” his mother appeared in the doorway, looking scared. “Did something happen at work? You’re not usually home this early!” He turns to look at the woman who notices his matching eyes immediately. Her hands come up to her mouth which spreads into a smile and tears spring into her eyes. “Congratulations! Who is it?”

The question makes Levi feel ill. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine he’d meet his soulmate while trying to rob them. And if his mother found out, she’d be so disappointed.

“It doesn’t matter,” He tells her stiffly. “I can’t be with them.”

The words were far from enough to satisfy his mother though, and she nagged him the rest of the evening with questions about what you looked like and where he’d saw you. He kept his lips sealed until he’d had enough of the interrogation.

“Please, my obligation is to you and nobody else,” he tells his mother. “I don’t know anything about this person. Not only do I have no interest in being with them, I’m certain they have no interest in being with me either.”

“Levi, this is all I’ve ever wanted for you,” his mother begs, taking his hands into her own. “Do not live your life feeling empty and alone. Take this chance and find your happiness.”

Levi shakes his head, refusing to even consider it. His only focus had been himself and his mother for so long that it seemed ridiculous to add a third person into the mix now. It was better to pretend he’d never met you, and he imagined you would feel the same way. How disgusted did you feel knowing your soulmate was the infamous pickpocket? It would be even worse once you found out where he lived and about his mother. Surely you were both better off without each other.

Levi hated the thought of a life without you

Despite his resolution to continue on with life as normal, it only took a few days before Levi caved and went back to the spot where he’d encountered you. The image of your face had never once left his mind, and there was an incessant need to see you again that he could not ignore. He thought perhaps one more look couldn’t hurt, and he had to go back anyway if he wanted to collect enough money to pay his landlord that month.

“I hoped you’d come back.”

Levi had been sure you wouldn’t recognize him after only getting that small glimpse, but apparently fate had engrained his face into your memory as well. He whirled around, his gaze immediately locking with yours. It was wild to see the familiar color of your eyes looking back at him. He had no idea why you’d be here looking for the person that tried to steal from you. The cautious smile on your face as you introduced yourself put him on edge as well. “What’s your name?”

“Levi.” He hadn’t meant to say it, but part of him already felt an attachment to you. What was more, hearing your name for the first time felt like a fire had ben lit inside of him. He shakes his head to get his mind straightened out. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“No!” the panic in your features makes him falter, “Please stay. Can’t we talk for a moment?”

“I’m sorry,” Levi backs away, trying to fight off the instincts rising up inside of him. He didn’t want you to be sad and he didn’t want to disappoint you. He knew though that it was inevitable that he would.

“Levi…”

Hearing his own name spill from your lips was enough to have him second guessing everything. Would he really be able to go the rest of his life without hearing it again? He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to stay away. He’d already come crawling back once already after all. As a last resort, he knew what he had to do. He had to tell you everything. And he did. He revealed his entire life story to you without hardly pausing to take a breath, knowing that every detail would drive your further and further away. Having so soulmate at all was much better than having a soulmate like him.

By the time he finished talking, tears had welled up in his eyes as well. His mother had told him to take the chance for happiness, but instead he’d violently thrown it away. A few seconds passed and suddenly you were slipping your hand into his. It was the wrong reaction to the story but he can’t help but tighten his grip around yours anyway, wanting the comforting feeling you brought to last forever.

“I’m so sorry you and your mother have had to fight so hard just to survive,” you tell him softly. “But you won’t have to live that way any longer, or at least, I want to join the fight with you.”  The genuine kindness and determination in your voice was overwhelming for Levi. Somehow he knew you meant every word, and the image of a brighter future for all three of you began to take shape in his mind. He had no idea if such a future was actually possible, but with you at his side he knew he’d definitely be willing to try. Being born in the roughest and seediest part of town had to be one of the worst fates a person could experience. Levi knew that first hand. He also knew he wouldn’t trade that fate for the world if it meant having you as a soulmate.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 35

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: fluff

A/N: i wanted to wait until tomorrow to post this but i have no self control. as promised, here’s some fluff. hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

     - We’re getting married. - she smiled at him, one of those sunny smiles that always made him feel like he was way too lucky to be marrying someone like her. Bucky leaned his forehead against hers, his hand caressing her the side of her waist as that sunny smile morphed into playful one. - You do have to leave this bedroom to get married though. 

     - But the bedroom is an important part of our marriage, princess.

     - No. You shouldn’t be even seeing me on our wedding day. It’s bad luck, besides Steve, Sam and Sharon are outside. - she played with the hair in the back of his neck. 

The super soldier playfully rolled his eyes at her answer. He hadn’t even had time to buy her an engagement ring or even tell anyone other than her parents and Steve, yet he guessed Sam and Sharon now knew it too, and yet the two of them were going to get married. Her family wasn’t here and it definitely wasn’t what he thought it’d be when he was younger. He’d pictured a much more traditional wedding, maybe somehow in the middle of war and he’d marry in his uniform with his family and hers surrounding them in a small little church yet, she was right. There weren’t a lot of things that were normal about them but she loved him and he loved her. That was the basis of marriage after all. 

His finger traced her jaw, feeling her features under the calloused texture of his fingers, the same features he hadn’t seen in two weeks and had barely seen yesterday. He examined everything, almost if he wasn’t going to see her again, yet that was mostly his mind screaming at him about the restraining order they could order. His eyes, however landed on almost fresh bruises at her lower neck. 

    - Princess, what this? - his fingers slightly lingered over her bruises. 

    - Oh ... - her gaze moved down before it moved up. - Stunt gone wrong while filming, it’s nothing major really.

    - Seems like something major, princess. It’s looks pretty bad. Did no one do anything?

   - It looks just like your bruise does. - she kissed his cheekbone. - Let’s go before Steve, Sam and Sharon resort to hearing behind the door.

He sighed, knowing she wouldn’t really say anything more about it so he dropped it, for now. The two of them left the bedroom and walked into the living area where Steve, Sam and Sharon were still sat in. 

   - So ... - Bucky started. - How do we do this? 

   - A wedding? - Sharon questioned. - We get an officiant, a marriage license, and make sure no one but us know about it. 

   - Oh Chuck has to know about it. He’s my only friend here and I’d like him to be present. 

   - Okay but we can’t do it here. - Steve added. - It’s most likely under surveillance and if they even dream you two are getting married, Bucky’s going right back to prison.

   - What do you suggest? - Y/N cocked her head to the side.

   - Me and Buck will get rings, Sam will get the marriage certificate and the officiant and Sharon will stay here with you. We’ll all meet at the HQ in an hour. 

   - You’ll be okay? - Bucky mumbled over to Y/N who nodded. - I’ll see you in an hour, okay?

   - I’ll be the one in white. Or at least something white. 

Bucky kissed the top of her head before leaving with Steve and Sam leaving her with Sharon. Of course like most girls she had pictured the eve of her wedding, even the hours before, what it would be like, who would be by her side, where it’d be. She had to admit it was very different from what she had envisioned but it was okay. Better have an odd wedding with the right person than the best wedding with the wrong one and she knew Bucky was the one. She felt it whenever he looked at her or whenever he’d fall asleep on her shoulder after telling her he wouldn’t. Her parents were right and so were the movies, when you know you know. 

She knew. 

    - I have to message Chuck. Maybe he can pass by my apartment and grab me something white. - she took her phone from her pocket to text Chuck.

    - Something new, something blue, something old, something borrowed. Luckily for you, I have your something new. 

Y/N furrowed her brows at Sharon as the blonde spy made her way inside her shared bedroom with Bucky. Y/N watching with confusion as she opened the small closet which was still a mess with packed boxes from both Bucky and Y/N which both of them kept putting off unpacking. Sharon moved some boxes and small trinkets off her way and pulled out a white big short rectangular box before putting it on top of the still yet to be made bed. 

The actress approached the edge of the bed as Sharon pulled the lid off and removed some packing paper from the top of whatever was laying inside. She quickly recognised what was inside of it, somehow through her prosecco influenced mind that night she could still remember what her favourite dress looked like. Her eyes looked up to Sharon’s before looking again at the dress, taking it from the box and holding it in front off her. 

     - When did you get this? No ... scratch that, when did you hide it in my flat?

     - Same night we got it. I’m prone to shop lifting when drunk. Besides there’s more than 5 thousand dresses in that shop, she won’t know. - Sharon shrugged, a proud smile on her lips. - You’re not gonna get married in a used white dress. You’re already not gonna have a big ceremony so you should at least have a wedding dress.

     - What if I get arrested? It’s illegal. 

     - It’s the least illegal thing I’ve done, besides, she won’t know and we can return it in the end if it makes you feel better.

     - It’s so pretty. - Y/N held the dress against her chest, almost hugging the fabric. - You’ll be my maid of honour right? I don’t have a lot of female friends here yet. 

     - Sure. Now, we have an hour to do preparation and hen’s night all together.

     - It’ll be okay, right? With Bucky ... they won’t hurt him because of me, right?

     - Don’t concern yourself with that now. It’s your day, no matter how little it is. Whatever comes after that, me, Steve, Sam will be there for you two. You’re family. 

     - I don’t want him to get hurt because of me. - Y/N dragged whatever tears were trying to spill out of her eyes with her knuckles. - I don’t want to be the reason he’s not free and he keeps telling me it’s fine but ... I love him so much and it broke my heart to see him handcuffed because of me when he’s been always there. 

     - Hey ... - Sharon patted the side of the bed next to her, waiting for Y/N to sit by her side. - No relationship is easy. I mean maybe most relationships don’t have the downsides yours has but you have something that only a small part of them have.

     - A huge age gap?

     - Hey, I have that too. - Sharon laughed before rolling her eyes. - Unconditional love. Trust me, it’s not easy for someone who is not in my “line of work” to understand what happened to Bucky and he isn’t one to open up easily. And you just love him and he just loves you. That’s all it matters at the end, that you love each other hard enough you will hold each other’s hands through the worse of storms. Not everyone has a hand to hold in their darkest moments and when you do, and when you know, those monsters become folklore. 

   - Wow, Sharon. If super heroing does not pan out for you, you should become a poet. - Y/N leaned her head against Sharon’s shoulder. - Well, if they don’t handcuff my fiance during the wedding, I don’t think it can get any worse. 

   - Good. Now hop onto the shower and only come up when you smell like a baked good. Exfoliate everything. 

   - Wait, what about something blue? I have something old ... and something new and ... somehow borrowed. What about something blue? 

   - You have Bucky. 

   - I have to be in something blue. 

   - Well, Bucky will be in you later tonight, I’m sure. Just get in the shower, Y/N. The clock is ticking. 

Bucky looked at himself in the mirror, old army suit on and somehow still fitting even with the metal arm. To be honest, Bucky was more surprised that a more than 70 year old suit hadn’t been made into a ball of threads and dust yet there it was looking exactly as it did when he first got it. He straightened his back and the lapels of his jacket, looking up only to return to a slouched position as the light hit the metal of his arm. James Buchanan Barnes was not the same man he was 70 years ago yet he was doing the thing which was expected of him back in his day. Now ... now she just had to show up and he hoped she did. All he wanted right now was to see her walk whatever path she was gonna walk, as long as she met him at the end. 

He straightened the lapels of his jacket once again, trying to appear as confident as he used to be back then. His rushing mindset was interrupted by a knock on his door.

   - Steve, not again. I’m still here and I’m fine. - he barked at the door.  

   - It’s not Steve. - his sister opened the door. 

   - Becca? - he abandoned the mirror to go to his sister. - What are you doing here? Is everything all right?

   - I would’ve preferred you telling me you were engaged and getting married today rather than one of your bride’s friends, I think his name is Chuck. - she crossed her arms, that childhood smile that she still remained making her way across her lips. - You think I’d let my big brother marry without me to see it? It took a long time but here we are. 

   - Yeah, getting married in the Avengers’ HQ. How romantic. 

   - Mum would be so happy. - she started to straighten up his tie. - She always said she wanted you to marry a nice girl and seems like you found one. Although, I was expecting you’d propose to her with mum’s ring. I guess you could give it to her for her birthday or something.

   - She doesn’t even have a ring. - he sat down on his old bed. - I feel like she might not even show up.

   - I’m sure that if she didn’t run away when she saw your baby photos, she won’t run away now. 

   - Bucky, five minutes. - Steve poked his head into his old bedroom. - Let’s make a move before the bride is there before you are.

Steve and Sam had decided it would be best to hold the wedding in the inner private garden where no one but the Avengers or people with an access pass could come into. No media, no police, nothing. Bucky did remember that garden, the one with the cherry blossom tree which was somehow always on bloom. Genetically engineered, Bruce had told him, whatever that meant. All he knew was that it was pretty, it was pretty enough for her to get married in with the flowers standing over where whom he guessed was the officiant and the petals which would fall with the wind, laying on the ground.

  - Dude, you’re not taking the photos. 

  - Sam, I am the best man, it is my duty.

  - You can barely use a phone. - Sam retorted. - Remember the last photos from yours and Sharon’s vacation?

  - C’mon Sam, we all loved to see Steve’s thumb in all of them. 

  - Fine, I guess I’ll just stay here and do nothing. - Steve stood by Bucky’s right next to Sam and his sister.

Time went slowly even when Sam told him Sharon was already in the building. Despite that, his mind still told him she wasn’t going to come. No one in their right state of mind would marry a super soldier, much less him. Definitely not him, he did not deserve this. He did not deserve this. Yet, she stood there at the end of the makeshift aisle with Sharon and Chuck by her side. 

He’d definitely heard many stories from many men and women about how they felt when they first say their loved ones on their wedding date but he never thought about how it would felt. It felt as if he could only see her, everything was blurred and blacked out and all he could see was her approaching him with a wedding gown and veil holding a few white flowers tied together with a white string. He definitely did not deserve her yet there she was. She was there and she took his hand standing by his side, looking more radiant, more beautiful, more ... god words failed, yet all he could say was he felt like he was floating. He was sure in that moment he had to be standing next to an angel. 

Y/N handed her flowers to Sharon before turning with Bucky to stare at the officiant. 

    - Welcome, friends, family and loved ones. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two people in marriage. You have come here to share in this commitment they are making to one another and allow James and Y/N to start their married life surrounded by those who care and love them. Marriage is perhaps one of life’s great adventures, one where you chose someone who will see it through with you to the end and support you during your darkest and brightest times. A wedding ceremony is not what makes a marriage but merely a celebration of the choice you have made to support and love each other. This is merely the start of the life you two will carve together. Will you James take this woman to be your wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?

   - Absolutely. - he turned to look at her, holding her hands in his, 

   - Will you Y/N take this man to be your wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honour, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him forevermore?

   - Absolutely. - she giggled a bit. 

   - I have been told the bride and groom have chosen to say their vows in private so we will skip to the rings. Rings are nothing of importance and have no importance unless you give them value. Your wedding rings are a reminder and will be a reminder of the choice you made here today, a choice which is never ending. That’s why the ring is a circle, it’s never ending. - Steve handed Bucky one of the rings they had picked up in a rush from the jewellery shop downtown and Y/N the other one. - James, please place the ring on Y/N’s left hand and repeat after me. As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed.

   - As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed. - he slide the ring on her finger, thanking heaven he’d gotten the right size. 

   - Y/N, please place the ring on James’ left hand and repeat after me. As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed.

   - As a sign that I have chosen you, as proof of my love above all else, I give you this ring. With this ring, I thee wed. - she slide the ring onto his finger. 

   - And now by the power vested in me by the state of New York, it is my honor and delight to declare you married. You may now kiss the bride. 

Y/N gave him a little smile, nose scrunching as it did whenever she smiled out of shyness before he pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn’t long, it was a short and sweet. He knew the two of them had little time and would have to be back in the flat the sooner as possible but it was still a kiss. Their first kiss as a married couple. The two broke the kiss as the clapping became just too loud to ignore and she merely leaned her head against his shoulder, holding his hand in hers as the people around them clapped. 

   - Good, back on the road. - Steve said taking the lead to exit the garden to which everyone followed, with Bucky and Y/N behind them.

   - You look beautiful. - he mumbled to her, kissing her cheek as Sharon and Steve lead them to the back of the HQ where a white van was parked. - Where did Sharon get a van?

   - She stole the van. 

   - I didn’t steal it, Y/N. I borrowed it. I will park it back where it was. - she said as she entered the drivers seat, Steve opening the back for Y/N and Bucky to get in so no one would see them. 

The two of them just sat in the back of the van in silence. Her head leaned against his shoulder during the whole trip as he merely basked in the fact that he was married. Not only married, but married to her, to the woman whose head was now leaning against his shoulder. She’d chosen him, she’d come. 

Sharon parked behind his apartment, bringing the van to a stop as Steve hopped off to open the door to the apartment complex and Sharon opened the back of the van. Bucky was the first one off, reaching out for Y/N’s hand to help her out. 

   - Have fun. - Sharon winked at Y/N. - And I am keeping your bouquet. Maybe someone will take a hint.

   - Congratulations, Buck. Y/N, you look beautiful, congratulations on dealing with him for a very long time. - Steve added. - I don’t know how long, but expect a few more hundred years.

   - I am okay with that. - she smiled at Steve. - Thank you for helping out.

   - We will see you in court.

   - See you in court. 

Bucky kissed the top of her head as the two of them walked inside the apartment, hand firmly clutching hers as the two of them walked up the stairs with her in a rather voluminous dress. She just looked so beautiful to him, he was love drunk on merely her voice but looking at her just made it all even more intense. Catching her little side looks, a small giggles she’d let out whenever he’d kiss her cheek or lips mid climbing the stairs up to the floor where his flat was. It was a tiring day and right them both of them just wanted to be with each other and celebrate witch each other.

As they stood in front of his flat’s entry door, Bucky picked her up bridal style as if they were in some cheesy sitcom, yet it was tradition. 

   - Bucky, what are you doing? - she giggled at him, her hand holding her veil against her head so it wouldn’t fall down.

   - I have to carry my bride over the threshold, that’s just how it works. - Bucky opened the door to his flat and entered the place the two of them already called home with his wife in his arms. He helped her back on her feet before closing the door. Finally, it was just the two of them. - You look so beautiful, princess. 

   - You’re making me flush, Buck. - she turned her head to her own shoulder, her shyness looking absolutely endearing to him. Yet, everything she did was endearing to him. 

   - It always looks really sweet, princess. 

Bucky kissed the top of her head and walked up to the old vinyl player he’d gotten as a gift from Steve a few years ago which laid on top of a mahogany dresser leaning against the wall of the biggest window on the living room. He fished through a basket of old records, placing one on the vinyl player before walking up to his wife who had a curious look in her sparkling eyes.

   - What are you doing, Bucky?

   - I’m not doing anything. - he took her hand in his, softly and carefully pulling her towards him. - I want to dance with my wife.

She leaned her head against his chest, listening to his heart softly beating against his ribcage. Everything was so peaceful and despite all that was lying in front off them, they were just focused on each other and the music which softly played in the background. Nothing really mattered in that moment, it was just the two of them, his head buried in her neck and her head against his chest, softly lulling to side, one hand on her small back while the other one held her hand. Fingers intertwined, new shiny copper coloured thin bands on their fourth finger of their left hands. 

Wise man say only fools rush in but I can’t help falling in love with you. Shall I stay would it be a sin if I can’t help falling in love with you ...

    -  Bucky ... - she rose her head slightly up, not to disturb him. He moved his head to stare at her, bright blue eyes filled with calm seas. - I love you.

    - I know, princess. - he smiled, softly and slowly twirling her, before bringing her back to being flushed against his chest.

    - No, I don’t just love James Buchanan Barnes. I love all of you. - her free hand rested upon his chest, right over his heart. - I love what you’ve been, what you are and what you’ll be. I love you during your best times and during your worse times. I know you think you’re crazy and damaged but I don’t think you are. If I had gone through half you what’ve gone through, I wouldn’t be a good person after but you ... you decided to help other people, you’re kind, you’re warm. You have a golden heart, James Barnes, and I will always love it. No matter what happens. 

Bucky was taken aback by those words, almost as if he wasn’t expecting to hear them. Everything came back into flashbacks, a kaleidoscope of memories from seeing Steve in the train as he fell down, killing the Starks, almost killing Steve, the Zemo events and then it was just her. Seeing her for the first time in the preppy skirt and shirt, the little charming smile she had given him when she had interviewed him, hearing her sing for the first time, kissing her for the first time to seeing her walk down the aisle up to him just a few hours ago and he knew. Bucky knew he’d do it all over again, he’d go through all the pain, through all of what HYDRA did, through all of it as long as she’d be there at the end in her little cupcake shaped white wedding gown and shy smile. He’d do it over again. 

He’d do it over again for her. For her touch, for her embrace, for her smile and laughter. 

So take my hand, take my whole life too for I can’t help falling in love with you. Oh, I can’t help falling in love with you.

taglist: @disasterbi @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me​ @americasass81​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @lostinthebeans​ @mariahthelioness29​ @oh-nohoney​ @peaches-roses-sins​ @theadorasabditory​ @sipsteacasually​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @booktease21​ @noiralei​ @learisa​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​ @uglipotata72829​ @naturalthrone22​ @husherstan​ @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624​ @newyorkgoddess​ @itsallyscorner​ @chipilerendi​ @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @niki-is-a-thing​ @cynic-spirit​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​

[1000fiction]

Day 10: Frottage ft. Brynjolf

Relationship:  Unspecified

Species: Unspecified

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Sexual Daydreams

Summary: Yet another cause for celebration has attracted quite the crowd to the Flagon, and whilst they’d rather be in each others company in private, a little party isn’t going to stop the Guildmaster from causing some mischief with their second in command. 

The Flagon was alive, truly alive. The alcoves were filled to the brim with trading merchandise, tables had been added to compensate for the sudden influx of patrons. Vekel’s bar had never been so busy, nor had his stocks been filled with such fine goods. The guild in every aspect had its soul back. Not a single member could’ve asked for more.

That was until the Guildmaster returned not a month later, a leather backpack stashing some of the rarest treasure few had laid their eyes upon.

With assistance from Vex, the legendary Crown of Barenziah had been reformed to its mythical glory, and now took pride of place amongst the guilds other keepsakes, right behind the Guildmaster’s desk.

What had once been a gloomy area due to Mercer's consistently foul mood, was now a reminder of what could be achieved. All thanks to the efforts of Brynjolf’s protégé.

The title of protégé had long been swept aside, however, as many would argue the new Guildmaster had far succeeded their second in command in skill - Brynjolf being one of few to disputed such a statement - but none could deny their shared title of lovers, for it seemed neither made an effort to disguise their relationship.

Not ones to miss a celebration down in the sewers, the thief of the hour and their second in command were in attendance at the central table, the Guildmaster nested in Brynjolf’s lap, bottle held loosely in their grip, and an easy smile upon their face as their free fingers stroked idly through fiery red hair.

“Never dared to dream the guild would come this far love,” he voiced, head rested against their shoulder as he sat in quiet contemplation, his slightly inebriated mind drifting through the feats and foes the pair had faced together “couldn’t have done any of this without you. Though I suppose I deserve some credit for finding you in the first place.” The Nord chuckled, hand idly running across his companion’s thigh.

“Very funny, lad.” They jested, poorly executing his accent as they ruffled his hair. “Though I suppose you’re right, I’d still be picking pockets and roaming free without you.” A pinch to their rear silenced them rather quickly. “Fine, fine, I’d be nothing without you, the guild would be nothing without you, you’re a hell of a man.”

“Oh, say that last part again, I think I like it.” He chuckled, nuzzling into the soft skin of their neck.

“You’re a hell of a man, Brynjolf, my man, to be exact.” Their tone dropped, sultry and smooth and their fingers trailed down to graze over the fine hairs at the back of his neck, using the leverage to pull themselves against him, strategically rubbing against his crotch.

His eyes widened as he looked them over incredulously, gaze flicking to the company they were surrounded by. He took note rather quickly that none were at all interested in the love birds, not when they had the choice to watch Delvin attempt to drag Vex onto a table for a dance. Though, perhaps they were all waiting for the fight that was likely to ensue.

The thoughts and fears of wondering eyes were swiftly cast aside, however, as his lover spun in his lap, resting their elbows on the table, thus slotting his already stiffening cock snugly between their buttocks.

He tested his grip and their hip, tugging and releasing in time with steady rocks back and forth. Attempting to look nonchalant, he looked towards Delvin’s drunken performance, though that was exceptionally difficult given the rising tightness in his leathers.

The Guildmaster on the other hand, seemed to be coping just fine – to his annoyance – as they had now begun conversing with Vipir and Cynric who neighboured them at the table. Though he barely registered what they said, his lover’s words must have been truly enthralling for neither of the lower members noticed the slow gyration of the Guildmaster’s hips, an action strikingly similar to ones performed between the lovers in the privacy of Honeyside. They had both been naked those times – he thought, bitterly – and as he recalled, his cock had also been buried in them, his name rolling off their tongue in amorous euphoria.

It was that moment he realised he would not be receiving such sounds. No words of praise, no unbridled cry of his name at their climax. It was torture.

Delicious, torture.

The groan he let out was intentional. Honest.

Vekel seemed to be the only one that noticed the strange occurrence, and in a shockingly quick moment of genius, Brynjolf snatched up his companion’s now empty bottle.

“Another round of your finest Vekel, for the finest thief in the guild, and for the finest thieves in all of Tamriel!” The flagon erupted in cheers, despite his hopes of distracting the revelers with alcohol, Brynjolf now felt far too many eyes on him.

“To the guild, to nocturnal, and most importantly, to getting drunk blind!” The Guildmaster leaned back into him, taking the new beverage from the passing barkeep, and raising it in toast, expertly covered his now prominent bulge with their rear in the process. All around took a swig of their drink before going back to enjoying the festivities.

Not long after did Delvin dive headfirst from his stage, giving the pair the perfect distraction, one the Guildmaster in its entirety.

Hands on his knees and feet firm to the ground, they bounced on the straining bulge of his cock, the contact sending torturous shockwaves through his aching shaft. He moaned again, though he was smart enough to muffle it, his face buried in their neck as stray strands of his hair tickled their cheek. They laughed merrily; any who happened to glance over would surely mistake their lustful disposition as an alcohol-fuelled daze. He felt them clench, his hands straying to their ass to feel the muscles tighten and release. By the nine he wished for nothing more than to take them there and then, bent face-first into the table, onlookers be damned.

They’d fucked several times in risky places, including the cistern, but never had he entertained the idea of having people intentionally see them. He surprised himself by finding the thought obnoxiously appealing.

He could imagine it now, his cock balls deep inside them, his hand at the back of their neck pressing them into their desk, their moans and gasps echoing around the cistern with each of his thrusts. Niruin would miss every shot at his target, Thrynn would miss every swing at the training dummy, and Cynric would no doubt break several lockpicks as he desperately tried to focus on his practice chests. All others that occupied the space would have to bury themselves in their beds, or watch.

It would certainly stop the lecherous gazes some of the newer recruits dared to throw at his lover, as all would finally be able to see how good he made them feel. And how no one would be able to stand up to such a performance.

Such thoughts swam in his mind for Gods only knew how long, and without his consent, his fingers dug harder into their hips, and he began rocking up into them. Thankfully, his conscious hadn’t left him entirely, for he didn’t move with the intensity he would usually use to chase his release. His lover helped him further – thank the Gods! – by clutching their stomach in theatrical laughter, the way their body rocked and quaked causing delicious friction against his oversensitive cock.

Brynjolf came hard.

Were it not for the quality of the Guildmaster uniform, he would’ve ripped holes where his fingers clung to them, their leathers bunched in his fingers as he slowly came down from his high, his mind still racing with unsavoury thoughts, and blood beading at his bottom lip from how hard he’d bit into it.

He felt them shift, felt his cum smearing against his softened cock within his own breeches, and felt the warmth of their side once again resting against his chest as it had been before this encounter.

“You’re lucky Vex finally decided to start a fight, otherwise someone surely would’ve noticed how dazed you’d become. I would’ve assumed you’d plain of existence, were it not for the way you desperately attempted to rut into me without someone noticing.” Their breath fanned his skin, cool against his burning cheeks. They lay a kiss to the flushed skin, gently smoothing back his stray hairs from his eyes. “What were you thinking about?”

“Can’t tell you I’m afraid, after the stunt you just pulled, I don’t want to go putting ideas in your head.” He chuckled, pulling them in for a sparingly chaste kiss.

With an arm wrapped securely around their waist, he was finally able to lurch forward and take his own renewed tankard from the table, clinking the metal gently against their bottle.

“But I do have a mind full of ways to punish you for all this. So long as you have a plan to get me out of here without everyone seeing I’ve soiled myself.”

[devilscreekballad]

Commission for BirbWaifu

With @birbwaifu ‘s permission, here’s the writing commission done for them <3

Thanks again for commissioning me.

If you wanna commission a story as well, check out the pinned post.

Enjoy

"Ya think they know?"

It wasn't an easy-to-answer question Nobu was posing there, but he felt a heavy weight lifting off his shoulders as the words finally left his mouth.

Charlie put his book down and pulled himself up into a marginally more upright position as they laid cuddled together in their train compartment's bed, reading.

"How d'ya mean?" he wondered, blinking down at the man resting against his chest.

Nobu drew a breath to answer, but paused. He knew the way he worded that question could mean a couple of things, and all of them had been weighing him down.

"About... all of it, I guess," he thus answered, looking briefly up at Charlie before listening to the other man's heartbeat again. "About me, 'bout you, us... this whole misadventure."

"I wouldn't call it misadventure, Nobu," Charlie said softly, playing lazily with the other's short hair. "I mean, look at what we achieved. But as for that... I don't think me family knows 'bout it. Nothing ya really put in the papers, right? An' what might make it into the papers... There's not really much o' a connection to us, is there?"

Nobu nodded.

"An' they already know 'bout ya," Charlie continued, gently caressing the other's cheek. "No one uttered a bad word 'bout ya since the wedding, so no need to worry there." Charlie shuffled and pressed a kiss onto the crown of Nobu's head. "And trust me, if anyone would have a problem with ya, Ada would rip'em a new one."

Nobu chuckled softly, and sighed.

"But what about us being together?" he wondered.

"Same deal," Charlie shrugged, giving Nobu's arm a squeeze. "But we'll find out for certain soon enough."

Something about Charlie's tone wasn't right. Nobu shifted a little to look at his lover once again.

"Yer alright?"

Charlie blinked once more, nodding.

"Am. Just still tryin' to wrap my head around everythin'. This was a bit bigger than anything we did before."

"It sure was."

And Charlie sighed.

"Wanna hear the punchline? The bit I find hardest to grasp is that ya actually love me back, and confessed first. All these years, we rode together and..."

Now Nobu sat up and smiled, bemused.

"We're both two oblivious fools, ain't we?" he said, now resting his head against Charlie's shoulder.

"Oblivious and both in bloody denial, Nobu," Charlie answered, taking the smaller man's hand. "But I'm glad you said something. I'm not certain I woulda had the courage to do so."

Now Nobu blinked.

"Ya really think so?"

Charlie nodded, smiling bitterly.

"With all that happened, I guess if you would not have said anything there and then... I woulda started tellin' meself that ya don't have the same feelings for me. 'Cause when all that crap didn't encourage ya to say anything..."

"It wouldn't have encouraged ya either by the sound of it," Nobu deadpanned, looking a little grumpy. "And yer the more courageous of the two of us."

Charlie awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Well... I..." he began, but Nobu gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"But I get ya. I... I think I woulda jumped to the same conclusion 'bout ya had I not said anything."

Charlie smiled and put the book away, turning to Nobu to gently kiss his forehead.

"We're a match made in... God knows where..." he chuckled, cuddling into the pillow.

Nobu did the same.

"Ya think we'll ever see the others again?" he wondered as Charlie turned off the small lamp. "I mean, they said they'll stay in contact, but..."

"I'm quite certain 'bout Mrs. Meadows. Can't imagine Blayne won't keep his eye on us, and she'll be the best way to do so. With O'Brian, Burke an' their brethren, I'd say it depends on what the world has in store for'em. Miss Florence will certainly write." Charlie hummed in thought. "I think the only real tricky one will be Lynwood, what with him moving to England. He'll either write eagerly or will get wrapped up in work again."

Nobu nodded gently. This sounded about right.

"Those were some weird weeks," he said.

Charlie sighed in agreement.

"That they were. But one can't argue we didn't end our career as outlaws on a high note."

"As if you'd actually give up on gamblin' and hustlin'."

Charlie laid his arm around Nobu, pulling him closer.

"I'll cut it down for ya, an' ya know that," he said, giving Nobu a loving squeeze. "But now we should sleep. I'd like to be awake properly when we meet me family."

"Yeah, not riskin' givin' them any advantage."

Both men chuckled, and Nobu leaned up to kiss Charlie's cheek.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Charlie returned the kiss. "Good night."

"Good night."

~~o~~

The next morning came, and Nobu woke to the conductor knocking on the compartment door, announcing that they'll reach their destination in less than an hour.

Nobu sat up, yawned, and looked down at Charlie, watching the other man's chest rise and fall gently. And after a moment, Nobu playfully ran a hand over Charlie's stomach. Charlie stirred awake, blinking blearily at his lover.

"G'morning," he slurred, squirming a bit. "Ya really took a liking to tickling me awake, didn't ya?"

Nobu sighed and searched Charlie's eye.

"I..." he began. "I guess I'm tryin' to tell meself this ain't a dream."

Charlie smiled and reached up to caress Nobu's cheek.

"I get that. I think I told ya that I'm still wrappin' me head around all of it." Charlie cocked his head. "But I get the impression yer really worried 'bout things."

"Am," Nobu admitted. "We got a new life ahead o' us, and..."

"Yer scared, no matter how much ya wanted it?"

Nobu nodded, and Charlie pulled him into a gentle hug.

"Look, Nobu, I can't promise ya that life will be outrageously easier now. But it should be a less rocky road. An' we've weathered so many storms together already, I think we can weather the next few as well."

Nobu nuzzled his face into the crook of Charlie's neck, humming gently. It took a moment before he sat back up, looking down at Charlie.

"Yer counting tellin' yer family we're together as one of'em storms?" he asked, all perfect innocence. And Charlie snorted a laugh.

"Oh, that depends on how obnoxious they'll be about it," Charlie answered, stretched and clambered out of bed. "But I ain't tellin' ya nothin' new when I say ou'll fit right in with the bunch o' altruistic hens that me family is."

Now Nobu laughed as well, watching Charlie get dressed.

"Ya warned me before," he joked then, getting up himself.

It wasn't until everything was packed and the train slowed as it neared the station that Charlie fell thoughtful again.

"Penny for yer thoughts?" Nobu asked.

Charlie looked at him, and then at the window, watching the scenery go by.

"Told ya, still lettin' things sink in. Right now it's mostly the fact that I haven't seen me family in person since Grace's wedding."

Nobu nodded.

"We sure got a lot to tell'em..."

Charlie smirked.

"I reckon those tales will be a good warm up till we get to the big reveal."

"Ya mean that we saved the world or that we got together?"

Charlie pretended to earnestly ponder this.

"Yes," he then said with a cackle, and earned a gentle elbow to the side for it. But Nobu chuckled as well.

"We should go then," Nobu said as the train stopped, shouldering his bag. "I'm certain I saw Ada and Oscar waitin' for us."

~~o~~

Now, Charlie was never the kind of person to get overwhelmed too easily. But arriving at one's family's home and being greeted by around a dozen-something friendly faces will very easily do the trick.

Charlie had barely gotten off the carriage when he was swarmed by various nephews and nieces, and while Oscar carried their luggage inside, Ada took the opportunity to have a small heart-to-heart with Nobu a bit away from the group.

"Whatever ya did after Potter's Springs musta been a big one to get Charlie to come home for good after all this time," she said, watching Charlie for a bit.

Nobu smiled askew.

"Don't be like that. Ya know how much he'd have loved to be here more often. An' yer one to talk. Yer always out an' about yerself." Then Nobu realized something and his eyes grew wide. "Wait, how do ya know about..."

"Potter's Springs? Josie wrote to me when that Pinkerton agent of yers got ya stuck in town for a bit." Ada smiled slyly. "Can't believe ya an' Charles worked with a bloody Pinkerton."

Nobu sighed.

"Neither could we."

"Did ya leave him to rot in the end?"

Nobu furrowed his brow.

"No. Truth be told, he... he's not that bad a person. And he quit his job."

Ada chuckled.

"Good call." She patted Nobu's back. "Come, ya gotta meet the other new members o' the family."

Nobu nodded and followed her, only to stop dead in his tracks when he realized something else.

"W-why did ya word it like that?"

With a smirk, Ada waved him to follow.

"I'll tell ya when Charlie's in hearin' range. Would spoil all the fun otherwise."

By all means, Nobu couldn't say that that sounded promising, but there was nothing else he could do but follow.

About ten or fifteen minutes later Nobu and Charlie had been introduced to all the new members of the family, and another ten till they were seated on a large and nicely decorated breakfast table.

Something that made Charlie squirm with a bit of embarrassment.

"Ya did this all for us?" he asked, to which his mother ruffled his hair after putting a basket of boiled eggs down.

"Ya been away from home for so long, Charlie, and ya pulled quite a stunt in New Hamelin." As you and Charlie blinked a little confused, Charlie's mother smiled and retrieved a newspaper from the shelf, handing it over. "We do get the papers out here, Charles. An' yer not goin' to tell me this kinda thing isn't right up yer alley."

Charlie cleared his throat quite abashed, putting the paper back down.

"Well, yes..." he began.

"Glad to see ya ended on a high note," Ada noted. "One last big thing before you an' Nobu settled down. So, what are yer plans now?"

Charlie quirked a brow.

"Get a job, I guess."

"As what?" Ada teased. "With yer skillset ya'd be best suited for politics, but ya got too good a heart for that."

Charlie snorted a curt laugh and leaned back.

"Yer kind as always, Ada. I was thinking 'journalism'. Maybe writing. Good respectable work, that."

Something about this made a smile tug on Nobu's lips.

There was some agreeing murmuring, some nodding and some eyerolling around the table, before Ada looked at Nobu.

"An' you?"

Nobu winced, taking a deep breath.

"I dunno yet. I-I mean I'm no good with words an' all, but... maybe I can find something at a bookstore in the city. A library. Ya know I like to read."

"Well, good to know Charlie will have someone to read what he put out," Ada quipped, grabbing the breadbasket and helping herself to a small tower of rolls. "But that aside, why don't ya tell us the whole story."

"Yes," Grace chimed in. "What happened that made ya finally decide to settle down with Nobu."

"Well, it's quite a long..." Charlie began, but then narrowed his eye at his sister. "Why did ya word it like that?"

Grace giggled in response, while Ada did her best to not start laughing out loud. Charlie cast Nobu a suspicious glance, and Nobu, albeit just for a moment, wished the ground would open and swallow him whole.

"I think they know," Nobu mumbled, and Charlie frowned.

"We suspected," Ada corrected. "Since Grace's wedding, the way the two o' yer been with each other..."

"Why didn't ya say anything?" Charlie protested, to which Grace spoke up.

"Charlie, that kinda thing is something the two of ya had to come to terms with for yerself," she said. "But to tell the truth, if ya wouldn't have gotten together by now Ada woulda set out to screw yer heads back on right."

Charlie and Nobu turned their gazes to Ada, who smiled back self-satisfied.

"Look at ya two," she said. "Ya've been workin' together so well since ya met, and one would have to be really oblivious to not notice that." He smile softened. "But I know yer both... yer both the kind of people who deny themselves that anything good can ever happen to them for a longer time. But..."

Charlie waved her off, taking a deep breath.

"We... already figured we're oblivious fools, no need to rub it in," he said, clearing his throat.

"That you are," Ada agreed, and smiled. "But we're all happy ya finally figured it out."

Charlie smiled at Nobu, and Nobu smiled back, nudging Charlie's leg below the table.

"But now let's eat," Ada called, "before it all gets cold."

"Can't argue with that," Charlie muttered, getting Nobu to chuckle.

~~o~~

"Charlie?" Nobu asked as they sat on a bank in the house's small garden, catching their breath after breakfast.

"Mhnn?"

"I've been thinking."

"About?"

"What do ya think?" Nobu smiled, resting his head against Charlie's shoulder. "About what yer family said. About us. We been so busy with wrappin' our heads 'round what happened in Devil's Creek, an' us being two godforsaken fools that we didn't even think about just what we're goin' to do now."

Charlie smiled, leaned his head against Nobu's and laid an arm around the other man.

"We still had a good answer to it, don't ya think?"

Nobu pondered this.

"Yes, but... I mean I can imagine ya writin' books, but I-I can't see myself sellin' any... or anything."

Charlie pressed a gentle, careful kiss to Nobu's temple.

"I'm sure ya can," he said, squeezing Nobu's shoulder. "An' we got time now. We're not on the run anymore."

"There's still people who have a bone or two to pick with us."

Charlie nodded with a sigh.

"I know. But we can handle them. Settling down doesn't mean lettin' one's guard down, now does it."

Nobu nodded.

"Are ya scared," Charlie asked softly.

"A bit. Not just about that... about everythin'."

"Me too, that much I can tell ya." Charlie looked forlornly at the sky for a moment, caressing Nobu's shoulder absentmindedly. "It's weird, innit?"

"Mhnn?"

"All the things we've been through an' this is what we're scared 'bout the most."

"Well," Nobu began, pondering. "I guess it's 'cause we've never been in such a situation before. It was always 'us and where we go from here for the next hustle'. Now it's... Us and where we'll go from here for us."

Charlie chuckles gently.

"Yeah, it is." Then he shuffled around, looking at Nobu. "Well, where do we go from here?"

Nobu blinked.

"Didn't we just talk 'bout that?" he wondered.

"I mean literally," Charlie said, leaning back again and looking up at the sky wistfully. "The world is big, Nobu. There's a lot of places to go an' see, an' about as much to stay there for a bit longer than we usually do. So, where do we go from here? See the world? Build a small house somewhere on the frontier? Go back to civilization?"

Charlie's gaze was gentle and free of any sarcasm as he looked back at Nobu. And Nobu just smiled, just as gentle and honest, before he cuddled against Charlie again, laying the other man's arm around his shoulder once more.

"I don't know yet. I guess I'll see," he said, entwining his fingers with Charlie's.

Charlie chuckled softly, giving Nobu's hand a soft squeeze.

"Yes... But... it's funny. I know one thing for certain." He smiled and cupped Nobu's chin, pressing a tender, loving kiss onto the other's lips. "I won't go anywhere without you by my side."

[him-e]

what did you think of shadow and bone? have you read the books? i only read the duology

Thoughts on Shadow and Bone, now that you've probably seen it?

I think the show is alright? It lacks a real wow factor as far as I’m concerned, but it’s enjoyable. It’s especially enjoyable in those parts I didn’t anticipate to like / didn’t even know would be there. 

Whereas the main selling points leave a lot to be desired.

The good stuff: the visuals. The aesthetic. The overall concept. Production, casting and costumes are excellent, the setting is fascinating. The worldbuilding isn’t perfect and is sometimes confusing, which is probably due to the show jumping ahead of the books and introducing elements that happen much later in the book saga, but I’m loving the vague steampunk-y vibe of it mixed with more typical fantasy stuff and slavic-inspired lore, the fact that it’s set in dystopian Russia rather than your usual ye olde England.

I find it interesting that in this ‘verse the Grisha are simultaneously superstars, privileged elite, legendary creatures and despised outcasts, according to the context and the type of magic they wield. It’s A Lot, and so far it’s all a bit underdeveloped and messy, like a patchwork of different narratives and tropes sewn together without an organic worldbuilding structure. (there are hints to a past when they were hunted, but how did they go from that to being, essentially, an institutionalized asset to the government isn’t clear yet. There’s huge narrative potential in this, and I hope future seasons will delve into those aspects)

Many of the supporting characters are surprisingly solid. I appreciated that Genya and Zoya eventually sort of traded places, subverting the audience’s assumptions about them and their own character stereotypes, despite the little screentime they were given.

Breakout characters/ships for me were Nina/Matthias, and even more so the Crows, i.e. the stuff I didn’t see coming and knew nothing about (having only read the first book). (I thought the entire Crows subplot was handled in a somewhat convoluted way, at least in the first episodes; it was hard to keep track of who wanted Alina and why, but the Crows’ chemistry is so strong it carried the whole Plot B on its shoulders).

HELNIK. As an enemies to lovers dynamic, Helnik was SUPER on the nose, I’d say bordering on clichéd with the unapologetic, straight outta fanfiction use of classic tropes like “we need to team up to survive” and “there’s only one bed and we’ll freeze to death if we don’t take our conveniently damp clothes off and keep each other warm with the heat of our naked bodies” (not that I’m complaining, but i like to pine for my ships a bit before getting to the juicy tropetown part, tyvm). And then they’re suddenly on opposite sides again because of a tragic misunderstanding - does Bardugo hate high-conflict dynamics? It certainly seems so, because between Helnik and Darklina I’m starting to see a pattern where the slow burn and blossoming mutual trust is rushed and painted in broad, stereotypical strokes to get as fast as possible to the part where they *hate each other again* and that’s... huh. Something.

^That’s probably why I’m almost more interested in Kaz x Inej, because their relationship feels a bit more nuanced, a bit more mysterious, and a bit more unpredictable. (I didn’t bother spoiling myself about them, so I really don’t know where they’re going, but it’s refreshing to see a dynamic that the narrative isn’t scrambling to define in one direction or the other as quickly as possible)

-

Now, as for Darklina VS Malina... I found exactly what I expected. 

Both are ship dynamics I’m, on principle, very much into (light heroine/dark villain, pining friends to lovers) but both are also much less interesting than they claim to be, or could have been with different narrative choices. I’ll concede that the show characters are all more fleshed out and likable than their book counterparts, and the cringe parts I vaguely remembered from the books played out differently. And, well, Ben Barnes dominates the scene, he’s hot as HELL, literally every single second he’s on screen is a fuck you to Bardugo’s attempts to make his character lame and uninteresting and I’m LOVING it, lol.

But yeah, B Barnes aside, Darklina is intrinsically, deliberately made to be unshippable. 

It makes me mad, because it’s - archetypally speaking - made of shipping dynamite: yin/yang-sun and moon, opposites attract, COMPLEMENTARY POWERS AND SO ON. And what does Bardugo do with these ingredients? A FUCKING DELIBERATE DISASTER:

^ Placing the kiss so early on (season 1, episode five) effectively kills the romantic tension that was (correctly) building up until that point, and leaves the audience very little to still hope for, in terms of emotional evolution of the dynamic. 

Bardugo lays all the good stuff down as early and quickly as possible (the bonding, the conflicted attraction, the recognizing the other as one’s equal, etc) only to turn the tables and pull the rug so y’all sick creepyshippers won’t have anything to look forward to, because THEY’VE ALREADY HOOKED UP AND THAT BELONGS TO THE PAST, IT’S OVER, THEY’RE ENEMIES. This, combined to the fact that she falls for him *without* knowing who he really is, is the opposite of what I want from a heroine/villain ship (it’s basically lovers to enemies, and while that can be valid too, I wanted to see more pining and more prolonged, tormented symbolic attraction to the Shadow/Animus on Alina’s part). 

But here’s the trick: it’s not marketed as lovers to enemies - it has all the aesthetics and trappings of an enemies to lovers (the Darkling is, from the get go, villain-presenting, starting from his name), so it genuinely feels like a trollfic, or at the very least a cautionary tale *against* shipping the heroine with the tall dark brooding young villain, and I don’t think it’s cool at all. It makes the story WAY less interesting, because it humanizes the villain early on (when it’s not yet useful or poignant to the story, because it’s unearned) but it’s a red herring. The real plot twist is that the villain shouldn’t be sympathized with, just defeated: there’s a promise of nuanced storytelling, that is quickly denied and tossed aside. So is the idea of incorporating your Shadow (a notion that Bardugo must be familiar with, otherwise she wouldn’t have structured Alina and the Darkling as polar opposites who complement each other, but that she categorically refutes)

Then we have Malina. The good ship.

Look, I’m not that biased against it. I don’t want to be biased on principle against a friends to lovers dynamic that antagonizes a heroine/villain one, because every narrative is different, and for personal reasons I can deeply relate to the idea of being (unspeakably) in love with your best friend. So there are aspects of Malina that I can definitely be into, but it troubles me that in this specific context it’s framed as a regression. It’s Alina’s comfort zone, a fading dream of happiness from an idealized childhood, to sustain which the heroine systematically stunts her growth and literally repressed her own powers, something that in the books made her sickly and weak. But the narrative weirdly romanticizes this codependency, often making her tunnel vision re: going back to Mal her primary goal and centering on him her entire backstory/motivation, to the point that when she starts acting more serious re: her powers and alleged mission to destroy the Fold, it feels inorganic and unearned. 

Mal is intrinsically extraneous to Alina’s powers, he doesn’t share them, he doesn’t understand them, he has little to offer to help her with them, and so the feeling is that he’s also extraneous to her heroine’s journey, aside from being a sort of sidekick or safe harbor to eventually come back to. People have compared him to Raoul from Phantom of the Opera, and yeah, he has the same ~magic neutralizer~ vibe, tbh.

The narrative also polarizes Mal’s normalcy and relative “safety” against Aleksander’s sexy evil, framing Alina’s quasi-platonic fixation on the former as a better and purer form of love than her (much more visible and palpable) attraction to the latter. This is exacerbated by the show almost entirely relying on scenes of them as kids to convey their bond. I’m sure there are ways to depict innocent pining for your best friend that don’t involve obsessively focusing on flashbacks of two CHILDREN running in a meadow and looking exactly like brother and sister. LIKE. I get it, they’re like soulmates in every possible way, BUT DO THEY WANT TO KISS EACH OTHER?

Which brings me to a general complain: for a young adult saga centering on a young heroine and full of so many hot people, this story is weirdly unsexy? There are a lot of shippable dynamics, but they’re done in such a careless, ineffective way that makes ZERO EFFORT to work on stuff like slow burn, pining and romantic tension, and when it does it’s so heavy handed that the viewer doesn’t feel encouraged at all to fill the blanks with their imagination and start anticipating things (which is, imo, the ESSENCE of shipping). The one dynamic that got vaguely close to this is, again, Kaz and Inej, and coincidentally it’s also the one we didn’t get confirmed as romantic YET. Other than that, where’s the slow burn? What ship am I supposed to agonize over during the hiatus to season two? Has shipping become something to feel ashamed of, like an embarrassing relative you no longer want to invite in your home?

Anyway, back to Alina/Darkling/Mal, this is how the story reads to me:

girl suspects to be special, carefully pretends to be normal so she can stay with Good Boy

the girl’s powers eventually manifest; she’s forcibly separated from Good Boy

the girl’s powers attract Bad Boy who is her equal and opposite but is also a major asshole

girl initially falls for Bad Boy; has to learn a hard lesson that nobody that sexy will ever want her for who she is, he’s just trying to exploit her

also, no, there is no such thing as a Power Couple

girl is literally given a slave collar by Bad Boy through which he harnesses her power (a parody of the Twin Scars trope)

you know how the story initially suggested that the joint powers of Darkness and Light would defeat evil? LOL NO, Darkness is actually evil itself and the way you destroy evil is using Light to destroy Darkness, forget that whole Jungian bullshit of integrating your shadow, silly!

conclusion: girl realizes being special sucks. She was right all along! Hiding and suppressing her powers was the best choice! She goes back to the start, to the same Good Boy she was meekly pining for prior to the start of the story.

... there’s an uncomfortable overall subtext that reads a lot like a cautionary tale against - look, not just against darkships and villain/heroine pairings, but also *overpowered* heroines and, well... change? Growth?

Like, it’s certainly a Choice that Alina starts the story *already* in love with Mal. That she always knew it was him. The realization could have happened later (making the dynamic much more shippable, too), but no. 

[yandere-daydreams]

oikawa my boy oikawa i don’t think you’ve ever written a piece for him by himself, so what say you to a little of the oikawa x reader? for some reason, there’s the idea stuck in my head of him with a “trophy” darling, if you will

I wasn’t really sure how to interpret a ‘trophy’ Darling, but I do like the idea of Oikawa coddling his captive beyond all reason, even when said Darling is very, very blatant about how little they want his help. It’s all very abstract.

Title: Helping Hand.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Financial Manipulation, Gaslighting, Dehumanization, Slight Infantalization, and Implied Prolonged Abuse. 

~

Oikawa liked to feel like he was taking care of you.

He didn’t really have to. As a professional athlete - an Olympic athlete, he was paid generously enough to make his wealth undeniable, whether his small fortune was stored in his fleet of valets or his off-season villa on the countryside or his willingness to spend so much time pruning and preening his perfectly capable partner, hours you never would’ve dreamed of wasting before he came into your life, whisking you away from dirty apartments and draining day-jobs and into a life of luxury and excess and Oikawa’s expensive tastes. He tried to take care of you, he did take care of you - you’d never try to deny that. You loved him for it. You had to love him for it, with everything he’s done for you.

You loved him, you loved him more than you’d ever loved anyone before. Almost as much as he loved you.

You just… you got a little bored, sometimes.

You couldn’t help it. Oikawa promised you would never have to lift a finger when he took you in, and he held himself to that, hiring maids and chefs and gathering a staff expansive enough to make your big, empty apartment feel full, if only for a few hours. Chores were non-existent, when all you had to do was worry about kissing Oikawa goodbye before he left in the morning and being ready to welcome him home with open arms before you returned. There was so much you could do, but so little of it was actually available to you, it was hard not to feel like you were a child in a playhouse, free to rein but given so little to rein over. It filled you with a nervous energy, a sourceless eagerness to assign yourself any task that’d make you seem productive. Maybe that was why your hands shook as you heard the apartment’s front door unlock and swing open, maybe that was why you were practically trembling by the time Oikawa’s slow footsteps found their way to the kitchen, where you’d holed yourself up.

You were excited. You were sure you were excited. That, or you were scared, and you couldn’t be scared.

Not of Oikawa. Never of Oikawa.

And yet, you stiffened as two lean, muscular arms wrapped around your waist, his chest slotting against your back, his face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder as he tried to suppress a chuckle, misinterpreting your paranoid as shock. He was always like this after practice - all lazy affection and gentle touches, lacking the energy to do anything more blatant but intent on making his presence known, even if he had to cling to you to do it. He was a little better than he usually was, considering he still hadn’t pulled you into an impromptu nap, but that only meant he was free to push a line of soft, light kisses into the side of your neck, humming as he worked. You just laughed, reaching behind you just far enough to ruffle his swear-soaked hair. “Someone’s happy to see me.”

“Someone’s always happy to see you,” He groaned, voice barely above a mumble as he tried to pull you closer, impossibly closer. “I’ve been dying to get back to you all day. I couldn’t stop thinking about my poor, little (Y/n), home all alone, missing me so much, it’s starting to get infectious.” He paused, his weight seeming to settle on your form. “And I’m starving, on top of that. Dinner’s ready, right?”

You hesitated to answer, your breath hitching in your throat despite your better intentions. If Oikawa noticed your reluctance, though, he didn’t feel the need to point it out, nimble fingers beginning to draw idle circles in your hip. “Actually, I sent your chef home a little early,” You said, attempting to cover up your unease with a light smile. “I was thinking--”

“Good call,” He interrupted, half-heartedly. He was already detaching himself from you, moving to gather supplies and shoo you away from the hot stove, the sharpened knives, anything he didn’t want his ‘fragile treasure’ getting too close to. It’d been endearing, early on, his willingness to do all the heavy-lifting and then some. Now, it just made you feel small, inadequate. Just short of being a real person. “We should try to cook a little more often, shouldn’t we? Give me an hour, I’ll make sure my babydoll gets their homecooked meal--”

“Please don’t.”

The declaration was sudden, catching Oikawa off-guard and making you freeze, your hands twitching at your sides, resisting the urge to cover your mouth, to apologize, to go along with what he wanted before he was so kind and you loved him and you owed him that, if not more. But, you forced yourself to continue, averting your eyes as you swallowed down the urge to take it back. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Not if you ever wanted to have something to do, in Oikawa’s apartment. “No, I mean… I’m sorry, Tooru,” You stuttered, biting down on the inside of your cheek. “I was wondering if I could cook, tonight. You’re always so tired, and you do so much for me, I was hoping I could do something for you, for once. I don’t think I’m…” You trailed off, attempting to swallow something thick and jagged, again. But, this time, it didn’t work.

Because Oikawa wasn’t smiling, anymore. Or, at least, he wasn’t smiling as warmly as he had been.

You could hardly call that sneer anything but cold, cruel. Hostile, moreso than it should've been for such a subtle change.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He sighed, allowing you to turn towards him. You bowed your head automatically, but Oikawa was quick to take up your chin, tilting your head back so gently, you could hardly feel his fingertips against your skin. “What makes you think I’d be willing to eat any of the shit you make?”

You wondered if he could hear your heart breaking in your chest. “I didn’t--”

“You’ve got to let me handle these kinds of things, alright? I know you’re trying, and I know you want to help, but you can’t. You wouldn’t need to, even if you could.” His tone slipped into something low, something patronizing, his fatigue fading away as he cupped your cheek, cradling your face in his warm palm, his touch so sympathetic, you wondered if you’d be able to close your eyes and cover your ears and block out what he was really saying. “Remember how pathetic you were, when I first found you? Remember how much damage I had to repair? It took so long to get you to come around, I felt like I was chasing after you for months just to catch your eye… You don’t want to let all that effort be for nothing, do you?” You shook your head, knowing better than to disagree with him twice in one day. He got frustrated so easily, you didn’t want to make him resort to something more effective than words. “I thought so. There’s my (Y/n). You’re so smart, I knew you’d understand.”

“I wanted to help.” It was just barely bordering on a complaint. An innocent sentiment, but one he would’ve taken wrongly, if he wasn’t in such a good mood. “I just feel so useless, sitting around all day.”

“But that’s exactly what I need you to do,” He cooed, finally pulling away, letting your head drop and your stare tear itself away from the cruel tilt of his lips. “I take care of you, and you show me how thankful you are for my help. That’s how this works. Now, why don’t you sit back and let me handle this, too?” He paused, chuckling lightly. “Your little stunt’s already wasted enough time.”

This time, you didn’t say anything, just nodding and curling into yourself as he guided you to an unoccupied countertop, hoisting you onto it before pressing a quick, apologetic kiss against your still lips. You didn’t return the gesture, but you had a feeling he didn’t care.

Oikawa liked being the one in control, after all.

You only mattered when he needed someone to reinstate the power of his command.

[marmosa]

short fuse.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: zero proof reading, ha sorry 

A/N: hey guys, so i’m swamped with work rn so my writing process is totally stunted, so i’m sorry about the wait for a new fic. aside from that, i hit 118 followers??? that’s absolutely insane to me that 118 people wanna stick around to see more of my work, it makes me undeniably happy and so proud. So thank you, thank you, thank you. i wanna celebrate somehow, but i’m running dry on ideas. i shot a soulmate!au fred by my best friend and she was keen on it, so i’m leaning towards that, but i do want to celebrate in a way that caters to you guys. so my inbox is open for suggestions and requests while i handle personal obligations. sorry this was a bit of a long a/n, but i just wanna thank you all again so very much for choosing to stick around. it means a lot to me. thank you and enjoy <3

***

“I haven’t got a single clue as to what you’re talking about, she says! That’s a load of rubbish if I’ve ever heard it!”

[y/n] finally laxed and looked up from her hand, furrowing her brows as she continued to blow a soft gust of air onto the drying layer of nail varnish. Her eyes trailed along with Fred who was pacing around her dormitory, his face flushed in anger as he ranted on about some girl in his potions class who happened to piss him off earlier that morning.

“You’d think after Snape chewing our heads off about a less than perfect presentation she’d at least pull some of her weight! And I’m no academic mind you, but I would really prefer to avoid another one of my mum’s howlers this week,” he huffed, finally sitting down in one of the loveseats with an aggressive thump.

“If it’s angering you this much I suggest you either speak to Snape, but he’s insufferable so chance are that’ll bust. How do you feel about me hexing her?” [y/n] offered, offering him a small consoling smile, trying her best to lighten his mood.

It didn’t seem to work as the cloud of frustration continued to thunder above his head, the crease in his forehead more prominent than ever. He dragged his hand down his face and let his head loll back with a grunt, “I appreciate the offer but if I’m forced to another insufferable detention with Snape I’m going to do something awful.”

“What happened to the Fred who spends detention pranking Snape until he’s decided to stop giving you detention simply to avoid having to deal with your pranks again?” [y/n] queried, looking back up from the thumb she’d just fixed up.

“He went and died,” Fred grumbled, sinking further into his chair and frowning.

“Oh shove it, come here,” she waved him over, giving him a demanding stare when he remained deflated in his seat, “I said come here!”

He groaned like a petulant child and slid out of his chair, dragging all his weight as he shuffled over, plopping down onto the floor with a thud strong enough to shake the nail varnish container, earning himself a narrow glare from [y/n].

“Let me paint your nails,” she hummed, grabbing his hand and placing it in front of her without so much as a nod of confirmation.

He remained silent as she got to work, coating his nails in a fine layer of a lovely light blue, humming a small tune to herself as he continued to have the anger peel off him ever so slowly. As soon as she finished the first hand he silently gave her the other, resigning to blow a small gust of air onto the drying paint.

“You’ve gone all quiet, d’ya like getting your nails done?” she mused, grabbing one of the many q-tips spilled across her surface to wipe away at the still wet polish that dripped off the side of his thumbnail.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mumbled, back-tracking when she squeezed his hand to emphasize that she was just asking him a genuine question, “a little, yeah.”

“Well then you should ask me to paint them more often! I think I did a pretty good job and look-!” she held up their hands together, pressing hers right under his just enough to where you could still see his nails, “we match!”

Fred couldn’t carry his anger anymore, a smile finally creeping its way onto his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he returned the kind gesture. His heart decompressed, his posture relaxing as he blew off his remaining steam.

“See, all better- ah! Don’t move yet, they’re not dry,” she chastised him, bringing his hands back down flat against the surface, earning herself a shocked grimace from him, “sorry, I’d just hate for it to smudge.”

“S’alright,” he blew out a breath of air, his eyes scanning her appearance as she fussed over his nails just to make sure they were still intact.

He felt another smile coming on as he admired her. A concentrated crease in her brow, her hair out of place from the morning past, robes long discarded as she got comfortable despite the school uniform. It was impossible, he thought, to not be in love with her.

“What’re you lookin’ at Weasley? Planning to kill me in cold blood are ya?” she teased, finally content with her scan of his nails.

“If you keep biting at me with all that sass, maybe I will be,” he replied, sticking his tongue out playfully and scrunching his nose.

“Well if you wanna keep coming to me to vent you’re going to have to get used to sass. Besides I’ve known you for ages, this isn’t new, is it?” she queried, cocking her head to the side.

“It certainly isn’t,” he shook his head, “doesn’t mean you should keep doing it. But I rest my case.”

“Good, because we’re gonna be late to class, come on now.”

***

“I like the color mate, where’d ya get that fancy thing done?”

Fred looked up from the parchment in front of him, glancing over to Oliver who’d seemingly already finished up with his charms notes, “oh, it’s uh, [y/n]’s. She painted them for me before class.”

“Nice. Hopefully it doesn’t get ruined at practice today, which is after class don’t  you forget it,” Oliver added, nodding his head as if he’d just aided Fred in avoiding a perilous fate.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Fred chuckled, rolling his eyes at Oliver’s typical attitude.

Oliver seemed content with that answer and went back to his work leaving Fred be. Before he could focus back on his work he felt a piece of paper pelt the back of his head, anger twitching in his temple at the annoying gesture. He glanced behind him and saw the crumpled paper on the floor, looking around the class to see a group of Slytherin quidditch players sitting around laughing amongst themselves.

Fred glowered at them and picked up the paper, unfurling it to see a few insults and some shitty grade-level doodle that insinuated Gryffindor was going to lose the upcoming match later that week. Anger bubbled within him once more as the small gesture relit the fuse [y/n] had supposedly managed to completely put out earlier that day.

Without so much as a side glance he stuck his arm out just enough to where the Slytherin’s could see it and Flitwick couldn’t, muttering a small incantation and feeling the paper burst into flames and reduce itself to ashes in his palm within seconds.

The Slytherin’s had gone and picked a poor day to get on Fred’s nerves as it didn’t take long for another few pieces of paper to be pelted at the back of his head. Unfortunately he had quite literally had it, his stool scraping behind him bringing everyone’s attention to him in the silent class as he thundered over to the Slytherin’s.

He approached them with fury biting into every step he took, his arm surging forward as he grasped the collar of one of the upper year players, a nasty glare painted onto his features.

“You’ve got something you wanted to say to me you slimy bastard?” Fred seethed, his other hand clenched at his side, ready to swing had things decided to take the turn he was anticipating.

“Yeah, didn’t you read the papers?” The Slytherin boy replied smugly, not frightened enough for the immanent danger he was in.

“I would’ve, but none of you are literate enough to form an understandable sentence,” Fred bit back, his brows set heavy on his face, anger practically rolling off him in waves.

The other boy didn’t seem to enjoy having his intelligence insulted, his own chair scraping behind him as he stood up, though it was comical to onlookers just how much taller Fred was than he.

“What’d you say to me, Weasley?”

“I said you’re a piece of shit who’s dumb as rocks.”

That was it. Fists started flying and a ruckus had immediately begun, some students cheering while others called Flitwick’s attention, begging him to intervene in the situation. Being as tall as he was, Fred didn’t have much difficulty tackling the other boy to the ground, taking a sharp swing to his face that landed with a uncomfortably loud thump. The kid cried in pain at that and was finally overtaken by his fighting spirit.

It want on like that for a while, the other kid managing to get in a few hits too, punching Fred in the mouth and landing a nasty kick to the stomach, before Professor Flitwick and another teacher who’d been panic called in finally stopped the brawl.

“Mr. Weasley, enough!” McGonagall snapped, standing in front of him as Oliver and two other Gryffindor’s corralled him to the side and away from the boy who was groaning in pain on the floor.

“But professor he-,”

“Forget detention, you need to be taken to the infirmary this instant! Wood, escort him there immediately and please try not to track blood in the corridors,” McGonagall sighed, exasperated with having to deal with yet another issue, turning on her heel to go attend to the obviously more battered student.

As Fred’s adrenaline finally subsided, pain started to seep into his face and chest, the feeling of fresh blood spilling out of his nose finally registering to him.

“C’mon mate, we’ve got to go before it gets worse,” Oliver insisted, trying his best to forcefully move Fred who was rooted in his place without hurting his injuries.

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Fred nodded, a far away quality to his voice as he and Oliver left the class to head to Madame Pomfrey’s.

***

“Is Fred here? Where is he? Oh, Fred!”

He looked up from the cup of medicine he’d just downed, his face recoiling in disgust at the flavor, eyes sealing shut as he forced it down. When he’d finally recovered from the rancid taste he saw [y/n] barreling towards him, panic glued to her features, her robes billowing behind her.

“Hey, [y/ln],” he grinned, setting the glass down and wincing in pain as he went to uncurl his hands, the knuckles still split open and raw as he waited to have them wrapped up.

“Don’t ‘hey [y/ln]’ me, what were you thinking?” she chided, grabbing a nearby chair and pulling it to the side of his bed, “you look terrible.”

“Hey,” Fred pouted, endeared at her display of worry for his wellbeing, “But you honestly should’ve seen the other guy.”  

“I did and as mad I want to be, you did do quite a number on him. But your hands! Oh dear me,” she sighed shakily, jumping up to go collect some gauze, tape, and disinfectant.

“They’re not that bad,” he mumbled as she grabbed one of his hands, guiding it in her direction ever so gently.

“You always say that,” she clipped, taking a cotton ball out of its container on the nightstand and soaking it in disinfectant, “now just brace yourself, it’s going to sting.”

Before Fred could get a word out he was hissing in pain, collapsing his shoulders inward as his body shivered with the sting. She cooed sweet words under her breath, quickly replacing the cotton ball with gauze to protect the now freshly clean wound. After repeating the same process over again she set his now wrapped hands in his lap, discarding of the used things and returning the tools to their designated spot.

“All better,” she smiled, reaching forward and squeezing the uninjured part of his hand kindly, rubbing her thumb over the tightly wound gauze.

Fred’s heart swelled as he watched her, the fight feeling all the more worth it to have her fawn over him, “Yeah, all better.”

“Madame, he should be free to leave shouldn’t he?” [y/n] asked as Madame walked over, a tray of tools and medications in her hands.

“I’d wish it so. Mr. Weasley please remove your shirt so I can get a good look at your injury,” Pomfrey instructed, setting her tools down on the nightstand, “and [y/n] please move to the other side so I can get to work.

[y/n] passed him a wide-eyed glare as she maneuvered to the other side of the bed, her worry quickly being shoved to the side as he revealed his toned abdomen right in her face. Had circumstance not have been so worrisome, she probably would’ve been all over him, however the school infirmary was the last place she was going to do something like that.

She cast her gaze down, pretending to occupy herself with picking at her nails as she desperately tried to focus on anything but him. She could see him looking at her quizzically, but she still refused to cave and play into her not to so pure thoughts.

“Alright, luckily there isn’t more than a bit of nasty bruising and some small fractures. I’ll go get you another dosage of medication but it’ll require that you stay the night in the infirmary,” Madame Pomfrey nodded, lifting her tray and scurrying away, continuing onto the next ailment she had to attend to.

“Stay the night, rubbish,” Fred groaned, letting his fall back against the railing of the bed with a small thunk, his chest rising and falling softly as he stared at the ceiling.

“Don’t get any bright ideas, you’re staying here or I’ll give you different reason to,” [y/n] deadpanned, folding her arms across her chest as she finally looked up at him.

“And what will you do? Hmm?” He smiled smugly, sitting back up and folding his arms over his chest, his muscles flexing with the movement.

“I-,” her brain ran blank as she quickly averted her gaze, her leg bouncing conspicuously fast, “I don’t know. Something bad probably.”

“Something bad,” he repeated with a lilt, quirking his head to the side, “ is that ‘something bad’ bothering you, [y/n]?”

Her eyes proceeded to grown wider if that was at all possible as she fumbled to find a witty response to snip back at him, but it was no use, she was all hot and bothered and at a loss of words. She resigned herself to a small shake of her head, casting her eyes down to her lap.

“Oh,” he hummed, a smugness practically dripping from his voice, “I get it, you like what you see don’t you?”

“Okay you know what, I think you’re in good hands and you’re going to be just fine on your own and now that I know you’re not dead, I’m going to head back to my dormitory now!” She jumped up, her chair scraping across the floor with an uncomfortable screech as she turned on her heel to leave.

“Now hold on-,” he interjects, grabbing her wrist the best he could with his restricted mobility, tugging her back slightly, “I was only kidding, you know that. I appreciate you coming to check up on me.”

He watched her decompress, her eyes glancing down to where he held her wrist with a tiny smile pulled onto her lips, “Of course, any time Freddie. Now if you’ll excuse me, I actually must go for homework purposes, but I might be back later. Take care.”

“Take care!” he called after her.

***

Fred cozied himself into the covers, the gentle pitter patter of the rain outside the many infirmary windows becoming the background to his thoughts as he tried to fall asleep. With a sigh he rolled onto his back, folding his hands over his chest as he found himself uncapable of falling asleep.

He was bored out of his mind, usually when he found himself in similar circumstances in his dorm he had something on hand to occupy his busy brain. However the infirmary didn’t really provide much to do unless he wanted to get up, steal a stethoscope, and start playing a one-sided game of doctor.

Before he could roll back onto his side and pull the covers closer to his chin to try and force himself asleep, a small outburst of noise drew his attention. As alertness spiked in him, he quietly reached for his wand on his nightstand, wrapping his hand around it and drawing it back under the covers, his mind starting to recite as many defense hex's he could think of.

As he prepared himself to turn around he felt a hand clasp his shoulder and before he could start screaming to try and grab everyone and their mother’s attention, another hand placed itself over his mouth followed by a shushing command.

He turned his head and felt a sudden wave of relief flooding over him as he registered the faux perpetrator, his heart then picking up pace for the same reason.

“Hey,” [y/n] smiled softly, he eyes sunken in a sleepy sort of way. “I’m gonna move my hand, don’t scream.”

Fred rolled his eyes, but nodded none the less, “you could’ve given me a heads up that you were coming, I would’ve tried harder to look more presentable.”

She looked up from her open bag at her side, her brows pushing together as she stared at him with a confused yet amused look, “you look just fine, Freddie. What’re you on about?”

Fred struggled to bite back a laugh, shaking his head as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, the blanket bunching around his waist, “Nothing, nothing- hey, what’d you even come here for anyway? Couldn’t resist being away from me for so long?”

“You wish, Weasley,” she rolled her eyes, thanking her lucky stars that there was a chair nearby and she wouldn’t have to make any extra noise bringing it over, “I’m here to paint your nails.”

“Oh,” he glanced down at his hands, noticing she was, in fact, right about the presumed notion that he needed a repaint, “Are they still gonna be blue?”

“Well, I brought the lot of the varnish with me, I was just going to let you pick,” she smiled, setting the bag down into his lap.

His face beamed as he rolled the tote bag down, revealing the pile of nail varnish containers, a childish grin spreading out on his face as he browsed the collection. [y/n] smiled to herself and prepped the nail varnish remover to get rid of the cracked and chipped polish already on his fingers.

“Can I mix ‘n match?” he quipped, holding up two colors to the moonlight to get a better look at them.

“If you’d like,” she shrugged, “it’s up to you.”

“Sick! Can I do one hand black and one red?” his voice buzzing with excitement.

“Certainly, hand them over and we can start,” she chuckled, taking the two colors and setting the rest at the foot of the bed

She pulled one of his hands to her gently, swirling the cotton ball over his nails to remove the polish. A giggle escape her when he scrunched his nose at the bitter smell of the acetone, the fumes making him blink rapidly as he got used to it.

“Well that’s mad, it feels like that stuff should’ve melted my fingers off,” he breathed incredulously, shaking his head to get rid off the weird buzz that had fanned over his brain.

“It certainly does and unfortunately the effects don’t change, you can never really get used to it,” she sighed, grabbing his other hand, continuing to wipe away at the blue.

The two feel back into silence as she feel into her focused stupor, her lips pursed to blow a small gust of wind to dry the remaining acetone while she shook a bottle of varnish in her other hand. Fred watched her with wide, adoring eyes, absolutely enamored with how dedicated she was to the task at hand. He let her continue on without interjecting, for the first time that night the silence was inviting and he quite enjoyed just hearing the clink of the cap against the bottle and the intermingling of their breaths.

“You have nice hands,” she noted absentmindedly, capping the black varnish and beginning to help it dry, missing the look Fred gave her at the suggestive nature of her compliment.

“Thanks,” he hummed, redirecting his attention to the shiny layer of red on his right hand while she continued to blow air onto his left.

“Of course,” she hummed, “now let me see both of your hands, I don’t want it to be messy.”

Fred complied and shifted his body so he was facing her, setting both his hands in her own while she inspected his nails, her focus so dedicated to her task that she yet again missed the adoring look he was giving her. A smile quirked at his lips as she absentmindedly ran her thumb over his hands, triple-checking that the varnish was indeed dry.

“Well, I suppose that does it,” she nodded, satisfied with her handy work, “d’ya like it?”

“More than anything,” he beamed, “are you going to leave now?”

“Only if you want me to, I don’t have classes tomorrow morning so I have no problem staying up,” she shrugged, secretly wishing he’d request her company.

“That’d be lovely, I was having trouble sleeping anyway,” he nodded.

“Same here. I can imagine it was only harder for you with your injuries,” she noted sadly, glancing over at his still wrapped hands, the gauze looking like it was fresh.  

“It’s not too bad, Madame Pomfrey gave me some painkillers so I’m doing alright. Besides it’s not so bad since I have you,” he added, fiddling with the folded covers around his knees.

Her eyes widened a bit as she processed his confession of sorts, her heart picking up pace in her chest at his vulnerability, her next words coming out in a hush, “That’s sweet, Freddie.”

“I’d hope so,” he whispered, raising his brows as he bobbed his head in an awkward sort of nod.

[y/n] reached forward again and took one of his hands into hers, boldly lifting it to her lips and pressing a chaste kiss to his bandaged knuckles, squeezing his wrist gently. It was all too much for Fred, she’d been too kind all day and here she was sitting in front of him now, kissing his hand and smiling at him all too innocently for how badly he wanted to kiss her then and there.

But he was at a loss of words and she was at a loss of restraint, trailing her lips up so she could press another kiss to the inside of his wrist and then the small divot of his elbow, slowly but surely pulling him forward towards her. Fred didn’t mind it though, he leaned into her with every advance, his breath coming to a stand still in his throat as she neared his face.

Her chair pushed behind her with a faint scraping noise as she stood up to accommodate for their height difference, his hand now intertwined with her own down at her side as she looked him straight in the eyes. The tension in the air was palpable and though she had been taking the initiative all day, he didn’t need anyone to tell him twice just what he needed to do.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked barely above a whisper.

“You most certainly can.”

Though he felt himself surge forward with urgency, the entire thing was as slow and sultry as they could get it. Their lips molded together softly, gentle kisses passed between each of them, quiet endearments passed between each pause for breath before going in for more. Fred cupped the back of her head with his free hand, hers doing relatively the same as she lifted her knee to his side so she could stabilize herself.

The kisses quickly became deeper, not necessarily desperate, but long and drawn out, both of them wanting to melt into the other for eternity. [y/n] wished so desperately that the circumstance were different enough to where she could curve into him, be able to feel over his arms and chest and relish in every inch of him that she’d fallen in love with. Fred similarly thought the same, his hand squeezing hers every so often to remind himself that she was there and this was happening and she was his.

When they pulled away, [y/n] pressed her forehead to his, letting their hands unwind so she could cup his face and he could caress her hips. Their breaths mingled in the buzzing silence, heart’s thumping in their ears as they relished in one another’s presence. She turned her head to the side to pepper kisses against his cheek, tilting it downward to trace loving kisses along his jawline too. He let out a breathy chuckle, feeling bad that he couldn’t just pull her into his lap and show her as much affection as she was showing him, but he knew deep down their current options were limited.

“I adore you Freddie,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the divot where his ear met his jaw, her fingers moving to card through his hair.

Fred couldn’t believe how utterly at a loss for words he was. It was so unlike him to not have a witty word or two to put in, especially after such a moment that begged for its tension to be resolved. But after the rough day he’d had, he thought it fine to let himself receive rather than give, even if just this once.

“You’re amazing, [y/l/n],” he chuckled softly, moving his hands so they were rubbing her back gently, her shirt riding up every so often with his movements.

“As are you,” she hummed, finally pulling back to admire her lover’s face, her thumb tracing over his jaw, nose, and lips, an adoring gaze melted onto her features.

“Thank you. For all you’ve done for me today,” he added, wanting to emphasize just how appreciative he was of her, knowing he’d hopefully be able to truly make it up to her later.

“That’s what you do for people you love, right?” she smiled, biting back a giggle when his face drew into one of bashfulness.

“I suppose so,” he returned the smile, pulling her face back down for one more savored kiss, a sigh escaping her as she melted into his embrace once more, “now what do you suppose we do for the next couple hours, that is if you intend to stay?”

“Well see,” [y/n] shrugged, “now scoot over that chair is ghastly, I don’t want to sit in it anymore.”

“And were back,” Fred chuckled, obliging her request to make room for her on the bed.

“What?”

“Oh it’s nothing,” he shook his head.

“Yeah, nothing, sure,” she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs under her as she got comfy across from him.

“It is nothing!” he scoffed, kicking her before crossing his legs underneath him.

“Rubbish.”

“I warned you what would happen if you kept giving me sass didn’t I,” he quirked a brow, folding his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t, we may never know,” she lilted, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Fred exhaled and lolled his head to the side, unable to hide the grin on his face, “whatever, now, I bet you’re wondering how the fight went!”

“Oh yes! But spare the nasty details, I can handle it, I’d just prefer not to.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

[harley-style]

DREAM SMP Swap AU

Dream = Wilbur : Dream comes into the server to help these two kids who are trying to stir shit up -- why not, right? He's got a fondness for chaos but also very protective and caring over his friends. VERY FOND OF TUBBO. To the point of.. well, brotherhood. Wilbur = Dream : He had a vision, to create a place where people could emancipate -- he's not above being the bad guy to keep that ideal in place. He's charming and self-confident and isn't afraid to use blackmail or get all up in your business. Has dirt on everyone but Dream. Constantly threatens secrets but subtle, yanno? Again, very charming, very persuasive.

Tubbo = Tommy : Still very sweet, but Big Crime often comes out to play more often than not. Also a huge trouble magnet, tried to start a...Honey smuggling empire? For some fucking reason, despite its innocent sounding plan, is a threat to Wilbur's land but no one has any idea why. Tommy = Tubbo : Tommy has an innate fucking fixation on music discs. He's got Cat and Mellohi personally. He dreams of starting up a music cafe/music area...? He and Dream get along swimmingly, Dream actually gifts Tommy a few music discs too, but also pins Tommy with the name discount Dave Strider.

Fundy = Eret : Was convinced earlier on by Wilbur to continue his 'legacy' and ideals. Fundy further grows into a neutral party, doing things only when it benefits him. Is the traitor from the first war. Eret = Fundy : Gets far too involved with stuff and the only way out is if he wiggles through the restraints on him. Yes that's metaphorical.

JSchlatt = Technoblade : Assists through uses of contracts and business deals. Like, hello, Tubbo's Honey smuggling business? He and Dream make an agreement, he supplies Dream and Tubbo with shit, and Dream does favors for Schlatt. Technoblade = Jschlatt : Anarchy lmfao. Was actually brought on by Wilbur in secret. Acted as a benefactor for Dream before turning around and causing chaos in the land Dream Tubbo and Tommy built. Blood for the blood god, only the strongest gets to the top kind of government. There's always fucking pitfights. Oops.

Philza = Callahan : Largely uninvolved in the events, mostly just there to supervise Wilbur, Tommy and Techno. Duh. Callahan = Philza : Has personal history with Dream, tries to convince him not to do the thing that could hurt everyone else. Minimally succeeds.

Alyssa = Niki : Ready to defend her home and her family. Niki = Alyssa : Neutral, but ready to back Wilbur up if need be.

Sapnap = Bad : Arsonist, goes around and burns shit whenever he wants to. His base is a Nether inspired fortress. Also, he has to deal with a Nether problem in reference to the Red Vine problem from the original SMP. Hotlands? LMFAO Bad = Sapnap : Helps when asked. Started out on Wilbur's side, as a favor, but slowly shifts neutral due to the conflict between factions.

Karl = Skeppy : Gets held hostage? That's what preoccupies Sapnap's time. He suddenly disappeears or gets trapped in a cell. Skeppy = Karl : Runs around doing supply runs. Gets his friends into various stints to try and settle the conflict through friendly rivalry and competition. It doesn't always work.

George = Ranboo : Unlike original Ranboo, George is highly unsympathetic and needs concrete fucking facts before he acts, and that kind of backfires on him in the end. As a favor to Dream (how many favors is Dream involved in honestly) he runs messages back and forth from Tubbo to Tommy. Ranboo = George : Largely uninvolved in the conflict, like Niki, but unlike OG George, is not absent. He's just there to assist. One of the most innocent and purest people on the SMP, knows when to keep his head down. When his house burns down, he doesn't really believe its Tubbo who did it -- he knows the kid has been framed because he'd been WITH him at the time, but Wilbur pressures him to admit it.

Quackity = Punz : Wilbur's loyal paid henchman. Quackity will cause shit for the appropriate price, he's not exceptionally picky. That stunt he did as Mexican Dream was great and everyone in L'Manberg loved it. Punz = Quackity : One of the best fighters under Techno. Has more morals, but keeps them secretly. Very good at hiding his true intentions/feelings.

(sorry about the other characters not being on here, i dont know them enough to make swaps, or dont know who they'd make a good swap with. Swap who you wanna swap though! i'd like to hear your take on this matter! HEADCANONS ACCEPTED TOO AT THIS POINT EVERYTHING HERE IS FROM WHAT I REMEMBER AND MY HEADCANONS)

PLOT

-Wilbur starts the SMP with Niki, slowly invites others like Ranboo, Tommy, and Tubbo.

-Tubbo expresses a desire to Fuck Shit Up and Tommy says they can get Dream, he's an expert at getting away.

-Dream is extremely protective of them both. Tubbo more than Tommy but that's fine because Tommy is largely independent.

-Tubbo gets in the weirdest shit but Tommy can roll with the punches really quickly.

-Wilbur gets tired of their crap and burns down Tubbo's establishment. It's like the Disc Wars except it's the Great Honey War. Bee War? Basically he's tired of Tubbo hogging all the Honey related expenditures.

-Dream gets the idea to make a honey smuggling empire, as a joke, but Tubbo is Big Crime and he's going with it. Tommy just wants chaos, and he was getting bored tbh.

-Eventually the Honey thing turns into Resource management, so Tubbo Dream and Tommy have a hold on all major supplies

-Shit happens and Dream, Tubbo, Tommy, Eret, Sam, Fundy and Alyssa establish an independent nation. Dunno what to call it bc the server is called the L'manberg SMP so....

-The fight for indepencence still happens. Instead of 'Green boy' Wilbur is named 'E-boy'. Dream still says "WE HAVE NO MERCY FOR YOU" when Wil calls for a ceasefire negotiation, but Wilbur does threaten the nation saying  "If there is no white flag by tomorrow, then you can kiss your sorry little arses good bye. That's my final warning."

-Turns out Fundy's been secretly funneling information to Wilbur in exchange for the safety of his friends, and also because Wilbur's his dad....uhm. Also! He and Dream are circling each other and others are like "OH MY GOD YOU GUYS ARE DEAD RINGERS FOR QUEERPLATONIC MATES JUST MARRY ALREADY" bc I like FundyWasTaken but others might not and its okay, we'll label it as platonic, but can be read otherwise depending on your tastes. But for this, it's very close platonic.

-Wilbur goads Tommy into a fight, as brothers do, but Tubbo steps in and Wilbur fucking jumps at the chance.

-This is the start of Dream's descent into madness. No one fucking threatens or pulls one of his friends like that. Denied. It's still subtle though, so he's okay for now.

-Tubbo and Wilbur face off. When Tubbo pulls back bc he genuinely doesn't want to hurt anyone, Wilbur takes the chance and beats him.

-Tubbo, however, makes a deal. Let their nation stand on its own, and he'll give up the Resource Empire he started. Wilbur accepts, with the condition that they unify their alliance with a...marriage? So basically, political marriage between Wilbur's heir, Fundy, and Dream, the leader of the revolution.

-YEAH I WENT THERE THIS IS VALID

-They're strained at first, but Dream and Fundy slowly mend their relationship post-betrayal.

-Fast forward a few months later. The Nation doesn't really have a leader, as per the agreement, but it does have a representative. All decisions are made via majority votes, and that decision is voiced by the rep and sub-rep, Dream and Tubbo respectively. Tommy's just there to have a good time and causes chaos as per usual.

-Enter Technoblade. He's been called in by Wilbur to...ah. Dismantle a little...nation. Sounds right up his alley. But he asks Wilbur to wait and see what happens.

-Tommy and Dream get the idea to hold a tournament to celebrate their independence, an all out brawl for everyone to kick back and relieve stress. There. That's where Techno comes in.

-He gets Punz to join him after like, being paid (ofc) and they fucking dominate the tournament. Dream's about to congratulate them but Techno turns the fuck around and declares his right to rule the nation. If anyone wants to fight him for the title, they're welcome to try.

-Dream loses another life to Techno trying and failing to fight it. He and a few others lost their first life sometime elsewhere? I guess? Probably by being blown up by Wilbur, idk.

-Tubbo and Dream are chased out by people who reluctantly follow Techno's orders, and Tommy, torn between his friends and his brothers, stays behind. Oh jeezus.

-Since Techno is a fighting GOD, no one's able to usurp him to make things turn back to normal. But Dream is smart, and knows Wilbur's 100% behind this. Fundy kind of knew but didn't do shit about it, which is why Dream rejects Fundy's offer of sanctuary. He can't be sure his husband will stay on his side, after all. It's nothing personal.

-Dream and Tubbo hide away somewhere, probably not a ravine but?? A mountain or something? They manage to get Sam away enough to ask him to build a super cool Redstone contraption thing that opens for them. ooooo.

-I'm not good at names but for the sake of jokes I'm gonna call their land the 'Bee's Knees' bc at some point Tubbo finds a fuckton of Hives hanging from Trees. Bee Mountain if Dream's feeling especially salty.

-SPEAKING OF DREAM. his insanity is on course now, it's slowly eating away at him and in fear of hurting Tubbo he's slowly distancing himself away. Tubbo's like what's wrong but Dream can't answer -- he doesn't know what's wrong with himself either.

-Tubbo and Dream need to go back and confront Techno, but they can't wait for long else Techno's going to obliterate everyone and their extra lives. They call Schlatt in.

-Schlatt's a pure business man and draws up a contract. He'll aid them in terms of supplies, but most of the revolution is on them. They agree.

-Tommy is actually really fucking good at lying and skirting around what he reveals to Dream and tubbo as a spy that Techno would have believed him if he didnt' know his brother. and Wilbur's warnings, of course. That results in Techno just being fucking done with Tommy's bullshit and plans his execution in another tournament? I guess?

-It doesn't go like the festival. First of all, Schlatt can't fight for shit, so why would Techno call him up the stage? No, Schlatt fights dirty. techno doesn't set much rules so theres no rule against poisoning Tommy quick and easy before the fight. Tommy loses another life and is on his last. Tubbo is spitting mad, but Schlatt points out that nothing in the contract covered this, so he's free to do as necessary. Tubbo is stopped by Dream who, at this point, is just overtaken by the need to one-up Techno.

-Also, Wilbur's been slowly persuading Dream to just. Let go. Let the monster inside of him free, he 'deserves it'. By the end of it all, Dream does. He snaps and lets loose the monster crying for blood inside him.

-Callahan is left to convince his old friend not to do it. In a moment of clarity, Dream stares on in horror of what he'd done. In his rage he managed to deplete ALL of Techno's lives (not really but shhhh), cause massive bloodshed, and terrified everyone in the process. He asks Callahan to kill him. Callahan does.

-Yes we'll get to Ghost Dream eventually.

-Anyway, Schlatt still does the Wither plan, because, uh, Drunken Rage. He was so stressed out from the ensuing conflict that he's like "LETS JUST FINISH THE REST OF YOU. THERE WILL BE NO CONFLICT IF YOU ARENT THERE TO FIGHT."

-and then he uses the line from the Lego movie on Tubbo like "Oh, Tubbster. It's nothing personal. It's just Business(tm)".

-Schlatt still dies of stroke. He does come back as a ghost though, that's one main difference.

-After everything's said and done, and the dust has settled, everyone decides to disband the nation, and just live their lives. like, they're done, wilbur, they get your point, jfc, let them rest.

-but uhhhh someone frames tubbo for setting fire to ranboo's (the server sweetheart) house. wilbur immediately decides to exile tubbo in 'anger'. acutally, he wants tommy and tubbo separated.

-tommy's not standing for it though, he fucking fights his way until wilbur threatens him and tubbo's like YES FINE OKAY I'LL AGREE TO BEING EXILED STOP THREATENING YOUR BROTHER

-tubbo's exile arc is not as sad as tommy's, but rather very tense because wilbur keeps riling tubbo up and taunting him. he still keeps contact with tommy though because they arent going to be separated just like that. no way. tubbo just gets a little more mad and gets short tempered like a lot.

-ranboo's not even that mad about it, he knows tubbo would never burn his house, there was a conspiracy on board and even if there wasn't he's like "arent yall overreacting its just a house, didnt you all do this like before the first war even began, what even (also, ranboo was WITH tubbo at the time of his house allegedly being set on fire. Not that he'll admit to it, because he and tubbo made that agreement long before)

-eventually he finds out that wilbur just wanted to pin the blame on tubbo to make him leave, and ranboo's like "IM DONE WITH YOUR CRAP WILLBUR STOP HURTING THE PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT" and leaves

-with the nation gone, people started to solidify their groups. sapnap and karl deal with their own thing, quackity still runs errands for wilbur, george is the main person ferrying messages from tubbo to tommy back and forth, etc.

-there's a funeral for dream, ofc, fundy arranged it. all of dream's shit was hidden because fundy doesnt want wilbur to get it.

-niki's still there managing her bakeshop but doubles as an informant for wilbur because she's well liked within the server

-ghost dream is present and he's a chaotic troll who mostly hangs around tommy. he's really hyper active and is always on the move, you can never catch him sitting still for like, 5 minutes

THAT"S ALL I HAVE FOR MY SMP SWAP AU PLEASE BE GENTLE I DONT HAVE TIME TO GET ALL THE FACTS STRAIGHT FROM THE OG SMP qwq

[purplelurkinghini]

Narcissus by the Pond

0. PROLOGUE 

Under the cut is the prologue to yet another multi-chapter mess I am planning to write. What is different about this one is the narrator: Edward Nygma himself. Another aspect of this piece that sets it apart from the rest of my writing is its epistolary form. That’s right, baby! First-person POV!

If you’ve seen >> this << post floating around, this is indeed me actually putting that second prompt to use. 

Enjoy!

Dear ▚▛▙▙

I found a cat toy while cleaning out my closet today. It was that ashy plush mouse stuffed with dried nepeta cataria which you spent money on instead of saving up for your student loans. If he were still here, he’d be rolling around on the floor in some vivid dream in which he was a lion and it was a gazelle. And, if you were still here, I would’ve asked you to stay.

The day you got that tabby’s claws into me was the day you checked into work late. Frank, our project manager and your internship supervisor, had to drop his showman act and instill in you the fear all WayneTech employees are motivated by. After you offered your excuses and exchanged glances with the floor, you were free to enter the kitchen to heat up the coffees that you went out of your way to fetch for us each morning.  

My daily routine, which you’ve played no small role in forming during your short stay with us, was disrupted by the absence of caffeine in my bloodstream. I remember my Rubik’s cube and how I crammed a corner into my palm, squeezing down on the still unscrambled sides. I would call it an ‘absentminded’ action, but we both know that would be an incorrect assessment. My mind is never not present, even as it wanders. For this reason, when you finally came out of the kitchen, I couldn’t not wonder what happened to your sweatshirt. It must’ve been soaked in rainwater, I concluded, and that was the reason you removed it. Or, rather, that was the excuse you used as you removed it. After all, your sneakers were soggy, but you couldn't exactly walk barefoot all over a corporate. Even so, there you were, in a far too small t-shirt which was too tight around your torso and too short to cover your stomach, walking around the office with your brewed bribes. 

“Here you go, Jim” you placed the foam cup right in front of his face to get him to notice you. I’d argue that that slip of skin that was eye level to him was enough to get that scatterbrain's attention. He must’ve made a joke, or attempted to, because you laughed louder than anyone should around him. 

“Cory,” you sauntered over to him. “I asked the barista for two tablespoons and a half this time.” Sure, he might’ve taken his glasses off before taste-testing it, but his lenses were fogged-up before the lid came off. You felt the most confidence around Cory, the least confident one in our team. While no line of code was too complex for him, women were a mystery he had yet to solve. You see, I haven’t failed to notice you making the most physical contact with him, brushing your hand against his as a means of disarming him. 

After he served you a stuttered smile, you moved on to Paul who was pretending to be preoccupied with his screen. He’d been watching you since you walked out of the kitchen, yet still acted surprised when you showed up next to him. You didn’t mean to disturb him, of course, so you tip-toed around his desk, silently setting the cup on a coaster. He thanked you without taking his eyes off of his work, but took the time to watch you walk away as soon as you turned away from him. 

"I'm sorry, Ed," you pouted as you placed the coffee on top of a stack of papers. "I know like to have your coffee before 8, but the storm hit while I was in the shop and the whole street took cover in there-"

"Slow down," I released the Rubik’s cube, flexing my fingers. "I'm not your supervisor. It’s not my forgiveness you need."

"Well, no, but I actually want your forgiveness," you covered your mouth in a coquettish display. "I mean-"

“Like I said,” I brush off the blush creeping up on my cheeks. "There's no use for that." Fetching the foam cup, I take a sip of the scolding beverage and brave through it. “There's no use to ask the barista to write our full names either. This calligraphy exercise cost you a scolding from Frank.”

“Actually,” you pulled the hem of your shirt down which only uncovered more of your cleavage instead of hiding your stomach. “I wrote your name myself.”

I stroked the surface of the cup right across the script. Again, I can’t call this action ‘absentminded’ either, but my mind had wandered off again. That lovely lettering was yours and so was the green marker, so you must’ve scavenged your backpack for it on a crowded morning train. You also must’ve taken your time steadying your hand for each stroke, each dot. E. Nygma. You also must’ve cleaned up the cup as it inevitably spilled and steadied your tongue for each stroke, each lick. Maybe you ever sampled the coffee yourself, the taste of cherry Chapstick staining the rim.

“Well,” you interrupted my intrusive thoughts. “Jim’s showing me the new user interface, so-”

“Of course,” I dismissed you and my daydreams.

“Talk to you later.”

Yes, that was the day the cat got his claws into me. It was after I’d drained the drink, and found myself restless still, that I made my way into the kitchen for another one. That is when I spotted you in the corner, cradling the sweatshirt you discarded earlier. At the sound of my steps, you straightened your back, but you didn’t turn your torso towards me. 

“Hey, Ed,” you smiled and it was a painful sight because I couldn’t ignore the panic I ignited in your eyes. “Lunchtime already?”

“What are you doing?”

“Umm, trying to dry my shirt?”

The closer I got, the more gregarious you grew. You asked about what I’d like to eat, what the guys would like to eat, if I’d like to order out. You didn’t stop until I asked it of you. 

“What are you hiding from me?”

Before you could bellow out something long enough to cover the sound, I heard it.

“Did your hoodie just meow?”

It was only then that you turned, facing me fully. “Please don’t tell Frank, but this is the reason I was running late.” Two pairs of eyes were pleading with me. One belonged to you and they were begging. The other belonged to an orange ball of fur and they were unblinking. 

You were holding a bottle cap filled with water up to its meowing maw, so you must’ve been attempting to keep the animal hydrated, even after rescuing it from the streets in the middle of a storm. You bought kitten kibbles on your way to WayneTech and that had eaten ten minutes of your time and cost you a scolding from Frank.

“I couldn’t just leave Eddie to drown in a ditch somewhere.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah,” you let it sink its little teeth into your skin as it held a single finger close with two whole paws. They feel like needles, I should know, but you carried on cooing the pincushion. “He reminds me of another green-eyed ginger. Maybe you know him.”

Yes, you remember now, don’t you? That was the moment Eddie sunk his claws into me, and I do mean it literally. He released your finger only to get his paws trapped into my button-up. I also mean it figuratively, as I swore to keep your secret the very next second. And, once you were by my side, shadowing me as I was coding like you wanted to since your first day of internship, you made me swear to keep him. How could I not? Your dorm had a ‘no pets’ policy and you had named him after me. 

The two of us had time to get acquainted after you left for your evening classes. I fed him the kibbles and was careful not to get caught. And, because I wouldn't be using it that day anyway, I replaced your sweatshirt with my gym towel. While it smelled like a sad, soaked kitten, whatever fruity fragrance you were using had yet to fade from the fabric. That evening I drove straight home as soon as I left WayneTech, skipping my daily workout. My daily routine, as I’ve mentioned, had been modified by you. 

“We don't even need to potty train him,” you giggled when you saw Eddie digging through the brand new litter box I had ordered. It had been waiting for me by the front entrance along with the delivery guy and yourself.

You got into a cab before even texting me, asking for an address only after the driver started the clock. I expected that stupid stunt from the likes of Jim, not you. 

“He's a clever boy,” I smiled when I saw you were still wearing the green button-up shirt I asked you to exchange that shrunken t-shirt of yours with. “Like his namesake.”

You kneeled before the kitten and produced the plush mouse I'd only seen Eddie play with once. “Did the shampoo arrive? He should be high enough to not scratch our eyes out now.”

After rolling around on the rug with a bag full of catnip, he seemed blissed out enough for a bath. And, after only scratching you twice as you held him for me to scrub his ginger fur ever so gently, we got him all dried and drained. Those green eyes were barely opened as he looked up at us from the cat bed he was supposed to grow into and the sweatshirt he had grown fond of. 

“Now we know he hates all water,” you said through gritted teeth as I sanitized your shaking hands. Your fingers were as fidgety as Cory's, yet I doubt his skin was ever that soft. “Not just the rain.”

“I bet he'd hate flees more,” I caressed your knuckles after bandaging the bloody bits.

“I hate the rain, too,” your eyes were downcast, much like earlier that morning, seemingly searching my sheets for something. “I never knew Frank could be so-”

“Terrifying?”

“Mean,” your giggle wasn't as gleeful as I'd grown used to. “I thought he was going to fire me right then and there.”

“He wouldn't,” I squeezed down on the shadows of your hands as they were snatched away from me. Then, I leaned in close and almost brushed your love with my lips as they moved: “He will let the anxiety that comes with that uncertainty eat you alive first.”

“See, now you're being mean,” you laughed, finally looking up at me. 

“Me? Never,” I said, satisfied with myself. You were laughing - actually laughing - because of me. 

When the dryer dinged, I was confident in leaving you in my bedroom with a smile on your face. After all, I was the one who brought you in there and I was the one who brought that out of you. Once I've collected your clothes, I returned to find you had already removed my button-up and was drying up the rest of your skin with one of my towels. You were turned only half the way, so you must've perceived me in your periphery. Paul pulled the same thing earlier today. Still, you sounded surprised as you covered the side of your breasts I bet you wanted me to see. 

"Forgive me,” I turned around, but, unlike you, I did it all the way. “Here you are,” I stretched my arm behind me to hand you the bra and t-shirt. 

“Thank you.” It was only after your bomber jacket was zipped to your chin that I dared to look at you directly. Your sweatshirt was Eddie's now, so you covered up with what you had. “For everything.”

“Let me drive you to your dorm.”

"You've already done enough," you pulled out your phone as I walked you to the door. “I'll just call another cab. Eddie needs you here. You need to wear him out, or he'll wear you out tonight.”

“Cats are crepuscular creatures,” I assure you. “Not nocturnal. I'm sure he'll fall asleep before I even turn in for the night.”

Yes, I was sure he'd fall. However, Eddie was so convinced. And, sure enough, there he was, meowing in my face at midnight. 

My mistake was letting him get his claws into me. You see, I couldn't bear waking that little bastard up. Not when he looked so small in the middle of your sweatshirt, in the middle of his bed. He finally had a dry place to dream in and I couldn't take that away from him, so I let him sink his claws into me that much deeper. 

And yours, as well.

After chasing him with my hand atop of my covers and letting him swat at the finger-spider, he was ready for bed. My bed. Yes, his green eyes were drooping when he surrendered to sleep. It just so happened that he did it on the left side of my bed. And I, not willing to risk another rude awakening, placed him atop of the pillow. Then, ever so silently, I slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. It was on my way back that I stumbled upon it: your sweatshirt. 

I recall calling it off the floor and taking it with me to bed. For Eddie, of course. He loved that sweatshirt, as I'm sure you know. However, as I placed it on his pillow, I caught a whiff of it. It smelled like rainwater, pet shampoo, Eddie, and you. It was your sweat and deodorant, sweet and soapy, just as I had smelled it on my shirt before tossing it in the laundry basket and I couldn't smell it on the left side of my bed. 

As I closed my eyes, I saw you. You were walking around the office, their wandering eyes watching you. You pass my desk and I am drenched in your scent. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Your sweatshirt is drenched, so you discard it. Your t-shirt is too tight, so I can see the dip of your belly button and the swell of your breasts. Though I am convinced you had a bra to cover them, my mind wanders. It wanders about the color of your nipples and it paints a picture of them peeking through the flimsy fabric. 

And, as my mind wanders further, that flimsy fabric is pulled down, your hands wriggling at the hem of it. That's when those peeks pop out along with the rest. All of a sudden, you're soaking. Sweet. Soapy. You even try to hide this from me, crossing your arms over your chest. I capture your hands, soft skin, and fidgeting fingers, and wrestle with them. Oh, how easily you surrendered to me, sighing in defeat. I lock your arms behind your back with one hand and squeeze your tit like a stress toy. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I had to taste it. 

When my tongue touched the tip, you pushed against it, filling my mouth with your flesh. You wanted this. That nipple is as sharp as a needle, but it melts in the heat of my mouth. You wanted this. After your tit is slick with my saliva and the peak is all puffy, I gather the other one in my grip and repeat. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

You wanted this and you told me as much. You said it loud enough for the others to hear. You wanted this. You wanted me. And, as if I haven't done enough, as if I haven't given you enough, I gave you all of me. Clearing the desk, cube, keypad, computer, and all, I slam you atop the surface. I had to pull down your pants for you, but your legs part all on their own. As for your panties, well, they all but dissolved under the duress. You attempt to hide from me again, tightening your thighs together. And, again, you surrender to me all too easily. After all, you want me. Your pussy? As I parted your legs and pushed your knees up to your chest, I saw how much she wanted me. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

However, I was not in a hurry. No matter how hot were your insides and how cold the chills were down my spine, I still took my sweet, soapy, soaking time. I set myself loose, my length slapping against your ass once it sprang free. You shivered, your back arching like a bow and your hands treading through your tangled hair. You wanted me. I took my time, sandwiching my shaft between your pussy lips, sliding across the slick and even wearing your labia as a hood atop its head for a maddening moment. It was only when you began begging, mewling to be mated that I gave myself to you. I crammed my cock inside of your cunt and went in so deep, I felt your heartbeat as your inner walls collapsed around me. 

Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I fucked you into a fever, your skin as slick as your insides and your mouth leaking as much saliva as your pussy was spilling precum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Soon, it would've been spilling cum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. When I did come, however, it was in my fist and not between your lips. 

As I opened my eyes, you disappeared. There was nothing there to greet me but the strike of the street lights slashing the darkness across the ceiling. Your sweetness had been replaced with my saltiness. It was indeed soapy and soaking, but it wasn’t you. Then, for the second time that night, I slipped out of bed and snuck into the bathroom.

The day you got cat’s claws into my shirt was the day you sunk your own under my skin. After that day, we shared a secret. I never told Frank about Eddie, but Eddie never told you about what I did in the dark. His glowing green eyes didn’t judge me, but they never let me forget. After you left without a notice, ginning up your internship, changing your phone number and never surrendering your real name, I couldn’t face them anymore. His eyes never let me forget, so I rehomed him.

I found your Gotham U sweatshirt while cleaning out my closet today. The name you gave WayneTech is nowhere to be found in their student records. Your name can’t be found in any police records either. Your real name, however, I am sure will uncover quite the mystery.

Yours,

E. NYGMA 

[apiratewhopines]

Because @jrob64 asked for another chapter and I can’t tell her no.

Midnight

Chapter 5 — The Pumpkin

Summary: In which our heroine really gets into it

Chapter 5 of 7 on AO3

“I had the craziest dream last night, yes I did.

I never dreamt it could be

Yet there you were, in love with me.”

-I Had the Craziest Dream, Harry James and His Orchestra and Helen Forrest

Emma may as well have been glued to his side. His hand was planted firmly on her hip, keeping her cradled next to him as he made the rounds like a seasoned politician. She should have been upset at his overbearing manner, forcing his way into her life and nearly ruining the biggest payday she was ever likely to see.

Instead, she curled into him and realized that instead of bacon, he carried the scent of cocoa with cinnamon. She wasn’t disappointed, though. Not even when he looked at her with a knowing glance after she took a long sniff at a particularly tempting patch of skin just above his collar.

She tried to tell herself it was simply because that was what a wife would do when reunited with her husband and she didn’t want to make a scene.

The party was winding down when the dreaded introduction to Lance happened. He stayed in the shadows, burning holes through her as she clung to the husband who was supposed to be on the other side of the Atlantic. Even from a distance, she could see the challenge in his stare. Instead of being discouraged, the other man was planning to fight his way into her affections.

She had hoped to bypass the whole thing, but Guinevere was determined since her other method of entertainment was spoiled, she was due a different kind. She stopped them with a bright smile and hard eyes as Killian was attempting to maneuver away from the breaking crowd. When Guin waved at someone behind them, Emma caught Arthur’s wandering gaze and silently summoned him to help. “Baron Jones, I’m so glad you’re able to join us for the weekend. Lancelot did his best to keep your wife company, but I’m sure he’s no replacement for you. Lance, do come over and meet the baron.”

With a rueful smile, Lance joined the group and nodded tightly at Killian. “Baron Jones, you’re the envy of every man here. You’re quite lucky in your choice of wife.”

“Oh, it wasn’t luck. Some said the Baroness would do anything for a piece of the pie, even take the name of a man she barely knows. But we both know the truth, don’t we, sweetheart? It was love at first sight.” His fingers moved further down her hip and she felt his body shake with contained laughter. He was enjoying her discomfort, growing bolder in his caresses with the knowledge they had an audience expecting her to be eager for his touch.

Arthur choked on the shrimp he had just eaten, breaking the tension and causing the posturing males to quit glaring at each other and Guin to abandon her machinations to thump her husband on the back. Arthur was too busy trying to breathe to notice his wayward wife had a look of true concern on her face as her pounding turned to a light caress while he regained his breath.

Calling a waiter over for a glass of water, Guin continued to rub Arthur’s back as she addressed Killian. “We’ll move you to a larger room where you will be more comfortable.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. The Baron and I are used to sleeping apart while one or the other of us are traveling and we don’t want to cause you any trouble. Tomorrow is soon enough,” Emma assured the woman even as Killian’s arm tightened around her. By then, she will have convinced him to leave quietly. She turned to him with adoring eyes and a smile that was all teeth. “Isn’t that right, Captain?”

“Nonsense, it’s no trouble. It’s why we have staff,” Guin said before Killian could answer, her tone distracted. For once, Emma thought she wasn’t causing trouble on purpose. The woman’s attention was still on Arthur, whose face had yet to return to its normal color.

“Did you hear that, love? No trouble at all,” Killian echoed, his touch flittering lightly along the exposed skin of her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

He was wrong, of course. It was all kinds of trouble.

—

“What a wonderful room,” Killian observed, ushering her into the large group of rooms ahead of him. He hadn’t spoken two words to her since they entered the home with their hosts, focusing instead on debating the merits of Neoclassical versus Georgian architecture with Guin. The other woman was charmed, her expression warm and open as she hung on his every word, neither of them noticing their partners wore matching scowls.

“It’s the bridal suite. I’m so glad you approve, Baron Jones. It’s not often we get visitors of your stature in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Perfect. In many ways, this is like a honeymoon for us, isn’t it, darling?” She glared at him through narrowed eyes, wondering how much longer he planned to play the part of doting husband. He remained in constant contact with her, his fingers gripping her elbow, his hand brushing her cheek or lingering at her waist. It made it impossible to think. Now they were in a bedroom, staring down a long night of complete isolation once the Soberanos left them to their own devices.

“Ahem, yes, my dear Baroness, there is a panic button on the end table. One push and it will wake the entire household,” Arthur explained, addressing Emma but giving Killian a look that threatened retribution for any shenanigans. She could tell the man was uncomfortable leaving her with him. His gaze kept seeking hers as if to get some reassurance she would be okay.

Guin reached out and swatted his arm. “Arthur, don’t scare the poor girl. We’ve never had any trouble here. You will be perfectly safe and I look forward to getting to know you both better over breakfast.”

Killian smiled as they walked out, shutting the door behind them. Walking over to the minibar, he commented, “Lovely couple. So glad you ran into them.”

His calm attempt at normalcy made her want to scream. So she did. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say for yourself? How did you find me? Why did you find me? What do you want?”

“Which one of those would you like me to tackle first, Swan?” His back was to her as he poured a drink. “Although after all the sleepless nights you caused me with your little runaway stunt and whatever the hell this charade is supposed to be, perhaps I deserve to have my questions answered first.”

He downed the rum in one gulp and turned back to face her. He looked hollow, his gaze searching for something, his hand outstretched before he thought better of it and ran it through his already wild hair. “Why did you run, love? I wasn’t going to hurt you. And what are we doing here?”

“I did it for your own good,” she insisted, moving to the other side of the room because the temptation to touch him was so strong she could taste it, along with the lingering flavor of his kiss. “As for why we’re here, I’m trying to start a new life. I have no idea what brought you to this neck of the woods.”

“I’m trying to do the same thing. But my version doesn’t involve false titles and cozying up to obnoxious cads.” He crossed the room in four quick strides and pulled her into his arms. “Why did you do it, Emma?”

If he had tried to push for more, she would have been able to resist. Maybe he knew that, or maybe he just always knew what she needed, so he simply held her. She couldn’t help but relax into it. The weight and stress of the last few days melted away as she listened to his steady heartbeat drumming under her cheek. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

He chuckled, pressing a featherlight kiss on the top of her head. “Why did you pick my name when you don’t even seem happy to see me?”

“I am happy to see you, Captain. I…I regret the way I left. It wasn’t fair when you’d been nothing but decent to me. And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about Door Number One once or twice since then.”

“You’re dodging the question, Swan. Or should I say Jones?”

“I know you want it to mean something, but it doesn’t. I needed a name and yours was the first that popped into my mind,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Why do you think mine was the one on the tip of your tongue, Swan?”

She was stubborn enough not to answer but not strong enough to pull away.

“Hmm, guess I’ll have to fill in the details myself then. Let’s see…you’re a twenty-something-year-old woman who has been alone for a long time, even when she’s not. You muscle your way through life on grit and nerve because it’s the only way you know how to survive, and you crumble at the first hint of softness, not because you don’t crave it with every fiber of your being, but because you don’t trust it to be real. The only part I can’t figure out is how long it will take to admit to yourself you took my name because I mean something to you.”

“Captain…you need to leave.”

“You can’t run away from what started between us. You’ve tried repeatedly, but it’s useless. We’re right for each other; I know it deep down in my bones. Don’t you?” The soft kisses he brushed against her forehead made her feel like she was on fire. Warmth flooded her skin and pooled in all the places she wanted to feel his touch. “Do you really think love is easier in a place like this? Don’t be a fool, Emma.”

Her name came out like a breathless prayer, and despite her best intentions to step away, to make him understand they were a mistake waiting to happen, she couldn’t resist cradling his jaw and bringing his lips to hers again.

It was all the encouragement he needed. The next thing Emma knew, her back was against the wall, his hands running the length of her form. His mouth soon followed, abandoning hers and trailing down her throat. She could feel the way his muscles tensed, his body hard and unyielding as she fought to get closer.

She would climb inside him if she could figure out how.

“The bed. Now.” His voice was a ragged command she wanted to obey but couldn’t quite manage as she felt his hands gliding beneath her dress and slowly tugging the silk up along her hypersensitive skin. He pulled back and gazed at her through hooded eyes, his mouth red from the heated combination of her passion and lipstick. “Or better yet, let’s go. Leave and never look back.”

It was like he doused her with cold water. What was it about this man that made her lose her mind? And her heart, for that matter. She gaped at him, disheveled from head to toe, and whispered, “No.”

“No? To the bed or to leaving?”

“Both. I’m sorry,” Emma said, pushing his chest gently to add distance between them.

He moved at the light pressure she used but captured her hands before she could lift them. Placing a reverent kiss on the inside of her wrist, he murmured, “Your kiss tells a different story, Swan.”

“I kiss everybody that way.” She was lying, and they both knew it, but she felt she needed to try to regain control of the situation.

With an exasperated expression at odds with his adorably wrecked appearance, he asked with a cocked eyebrow, “Does that include your new friend Lancelot du Lac?”

She didn’t need any more evidence that Killian Jones was not like Neal Cassidy, but if she did, his measured voice and probing question about Lance would do it. Neal was an incredibly jealous person, probably because he was cheating during their entire relationship. She couldn’t imagine having a calm conversation with her ex about a man who practically tried to pee on her leg while being introduced to him. He would have accused, he would have pouted, then he would have made her feel like garbage. But this man in front of her simply asked. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“It looks like a ticking time bomb that will blow up in your face.”

Maybe it was precisely what it looked like then. “That’s not your concern. It’s my face, and it won’t be the first time.”

“But your face is quite dear to me, Swan. I’d do anything to put a smile on it.” He pressed another one of those barely-there kisses on her wrist, this time letting his lips move further up the inside of her arm slowly.

“Then you should leave. Tonight.” Even she didn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. It didn’t help that her head had fallen back against the wall, eyes tightly shut so she could savor the feelings he was inducing without pesky things like lights or coherent thoughts getting in the way.

“Not a chance, love. We’re a package deal. We stay or go together. Now come to bed, and let’s work on that smile.”

She allowed herself to move but was surprised when he went to his bag and tossed a shirt in her direction, grabbing one for himself as well. Turning around to give her privacy, he didn’t join her until she clicked off the light on her bedside table. Wrapping her in his arms again, he buried his face in her hair and murmured, “We’re leaving tomorrow if I have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming.”

“If believing that will help you sleep tonight, I won’t be the one to burst your bubble,” she answered with a yawn. “About that smile…”

“You’ll have to keep it in your pants, Swan. I’ve changed my mind. Our first time won’t be on a bed of lies. I’m not going to let you lump me in with the rest of this fantasy land you’re playing in and then be dismissed when it’s all over. Besides, I need some kind of carrot to dangle in front of you to convince you to leave.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days? Maybe your carrot isn’t big enough to make me abandon my plans.”

“I’ve had no complaints, love, but I look forward to earning your opinion on the matter.” She felt his laugh more than heard it, the mattress shaking slightly and her hair rustling. “I’ll never get tired of this.”

“Of what?”

“Seeing you in my shirts.”

It wasn’t the way she thought he would put a smile on her face, but she couldn’t grumble when the last sound she heard before falling asleep was his gentle snore.

—

The lightness to her step she attributed to the man still passed out in her bed. Their bed. In the bridal suite.

When had life gotten so beautifully complicated?

The weather was bright and clear, the air pleasantly warm. Emma followed the sound of voices out to the terrace and saw most of the guests were already dining al fresco from buffet tables running the entire length of the house and laden with every manner of food one could imagine. She was filling up two plates when she felt someone approach her from behind.

“If you’re going to lurk, you may as well make yourself useful,” she said, not bothering to glance over her shoulder to verify the identity of her visitor. The brooding silence was all the confirmation she needed. “Hold this plate.”

Lance took it from her and held it aloft with all the patience of a toddler who had his favorite toy taken away. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, and yourself?”

“Miserably.”

“That’s too bad. You should ask them to put you in the bridal suite next time. The mattress is great.”

“Only if you agree to join me,” he retorted, a hint of his former confidence resurfacing.

She actually started feeling sorry for him. It was hard going through life so scared of love you only made connections with unavailable people. She would know. “You’ll have to take that up with my husband. Although I warn you, he’s the jealous sort.”

Glumly, he picked at the stem of a strawberry and muttered, “I eat husbands for breakfast.”

“How odd. Are they better with toast or fruit?” She snorted at her joke, but he remained impassive. “Come on, Lance, it’s not the end of the world. We had our fun, but the cat is back. Behave.”

They ended up at the head table with Arthur, Guin, and Sidney. It was the last place she wanted to sit, but since it was also the only place and she was hungry, she decided to bear it as best she could. The conversation flowed easily; plans for the day were discussed and discounted in the same breath.

As she contemplated a third plate, Killian rushed to her side. Kneeling in front of her and wrapping her hand in both of his, he announced, “Darling, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Torn between amusement and anxiety, she responded with a single syllable. “Oh?”

“Yes, I didn’t check my email before I arrived last night, but it must have downloaded while I still had a signal. Thank goodness, because I had a message from my mother. Little Hope is sick, and we need to get home right away.”

Looking unconcerned with the newest development, Sidney asked around a mouth full of French toast, “Who’s Hope?”

“You didn’t tell them about Hope?”

“Well, you know how it is…new friends have so many things to talk about it’s hard to fit it all in,” she said with a half-hearted smile, wondering what he was up to.

Ignoring her, he focused his attention on Lance. “Hope is our three-year-old daughter, the light of our lives. And she’s running a high fever and has a horrible rash.”

She had been attempting to swallow, but when he announced the existence of their imaginary daughter to the group, she managed to dribble most of her mimosa down her chin. “Crap.”

“I know, darling. It’s terrible news.” He ran his hand up and down her back in soothing circles, but when she looked at him, he had a dare in his eyes.

Challenge accepted.

“Maybe she has measles. Or chickenpox. Do those still exist? I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Sidney responded, dismissing the drama and helping himself to some of the biscuits from the basket at the center of the table.

“We can only hope so. At times like these, a child needs her parents. We should leave. Now.”

“You’re absolutely right, Captain. But your poor mother. Where’s the nearest phone? I need to call immediately and check-in,” she said, making a show of squeezing Killian’s hand and then turning to her friend and adding, “Arthur, would you ask some of your staff to meet us at our room in a few minutes to help us pack while I make a call?”

With a wink, he was off. Emma followed shortly thereafter, hoping she was giving him enough time and that he had glommed on to her plan. Guin had her taken her arm and was leading her into the hallway while everyone else trailed behind. “You poor dear. I’m so sorry about your little girl.”

Emma believed her, and for the first time, she could see why Arthur would forgive her anything.

“What are you doing, love? With the time difference, they’ll be napping. Better to let them sleep. We can call from the airport.”

“No, I couldn’t bear to leave without an update.”

Reaching the old-fashioned hallway phone, she picked it up and dialed the number for her room, ensuring her body concealed the keypad from view. It rang twice, and then Arthur answered. “Your fake husband is a troublemaker. I think I may have found a new best friend.”

“Oh, Mother, thank goodness we reached you! How is our little Hope?” With a side-eyed glance at Killian, she continued, “What did the doctor say?”

She could hear Arthur’s smile as he continued, “No worries, Emma. She doesn’t have measles at all. It’s just a plain old case of a bad hangover. Hope got into her daddy’s rum, and we found her in the gutter this morning.”

With a guffaw she tried to pass off as relieved laughter, she responded, “Oh, how cute of her! Like father, like daughter. She loves it so…” She placed her hand over the mouthpiece and told the group, “She’s all better. The fever broke, and the spots are practically gone.”

She heard Arthur giggle like the little girl her daughter supposedly was and ask, “Is it safe to hang up?”

“What was that, Mother? Hope wants to talk with her Daddy? Of course, he’s right here.” She turned to him, a smile on her face when she noted his grudging respect, and handed him the phone.

He reached for the device as if it were a venomous snake and placed it against his ear. Emma wasn’t sure what Arthur was saying, but Killian’s eyes got wider and wider until he replied, “I’m just glad you’re feeling better dear heart. We’ll see you soon. Listen to your Nana.”

“Isn’t it wonderful? It wasn’t anything serious. Just a heat rash. We don’t have to leave after all.” Impetuously, she threw her arms around him.

He kissed her temple and whispered, “I’ll make you pay for that, love. This isn’t over.”

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