#and if you like him more than Grey I will -

[sometimesliterate]

cat parents | dr. ratio & aventurine

!! polyamory !!

caritas, poker, and snuggle.

anyone could tell who named what cat, and which cat cake was who's favorite.

.

caritas was veritas' favorite, the name being an old language word meaning ' love ' although he wouldn't really admit to it. he'd told you that the cat's original name - or rather, it's classification, was lambda's friend, with blue skin and black and white filling. but the cat cake had a little gold flower on the side of it's head, too, which reminded him of himself.

caritas loves to chat with the other cat cakes. its the kind of cat that makes friends with other really quickly, so it's always chatting with poker and snuggle about something throughout the day. their conversations can range from anything about how warm the bed is to the best spot in the living room to see the three of their owners dancing together in the kitchen with music while you were trying to make dinner.

ratio absolutely loved to note down their conversations whenever present. it surprised him that such a creature was so articulate, even able to properly express its desires. he'd concluded that the cat cakes had the intelligence of a young toddler with a rudimentary but understandable grasp on language. you and aventurine liked to tease him sometimes for treating the cat cakes as children sometimes, trying to teach them as a parent would, although this was something that ratio would deny wholeheartedly.

" they are an interesting new species. they are ruan mei's creations, and yet she doesn't seem to understand their full potential. i believe it's imperative that we study them and possibly teach them things they otherwise wouldn't know without our interventions, " ratio reasoned, while he was holding the little cat cake, cradling it like it was something precious to him.

.

poker was aventurine's, the name coming from one of his favorite card games to play, even though he rationalized it by saying that the cat was particularly swatty and liked to cause trouble by batting at things off of the edge of tables. " it likes to poke things until it drops off of the table, so the name poker makes sense, doesn't it ? " yeah, okay aventurine, whatever you say.

poker loved to meow in the dead of night and startle everyone out of sleep in the most inopportune times. ratio has a lecture early in the morning for the intelligentsia guild ? poker is making it's boredom everyone's problem. aventurine has a meeting with the other stonehearts ? oh boy, poker is right there sitting on his face meowing incessantly. if you've got something important to do, well, sorry to say you won't be getting very much sleep that night no matter how early you go to bed. it was bratty, sure, but it was ultimately just an average grey cat cake with nothing special about it, and seemed to have an overwhelming fear of being left alone.

no matter how annoying the cat cake was being that particular night, there was only one way to stop it from meowing. of course, ratio tried to reprimand it and teach it other ways to relieve its boredom at night, but nothing proved effective. you would just try to get it to calm down by playing with it for a little while, but that really only worked until you left it alone, and then it went right back to meowing. aventurine, however, had the magic touch. he would grab the cat cake and bring it into bed, and he would just.. talk to it. in a quiet voice, just chatting about whatever popped up into his head. he'd talk for an hour or more. sometimes it was about sigonia, sometimes it was about his job as a stoneheart. sometimes it was just different gambles and how he ended up winning them.

" so, of course, i had to prove that i was much more than he gave me credit for, " aventurine had been yapping for about an hour now, when he looked down at the cat cake in his arms and realized that it was sound asleep, purring against his chest. " ah, looks like i've done it again. you're welcome, you two. "

" thank you, 'churine, " you mumbled, half asleep as you leaned over to him and pressed a kiss on his cheek, your head falling back down to rest on his shoulder, already falling back asleep. ratio didn't say anything, and when aventurine looked over at him, he couldn't help but smile. he'd put ratio asleep while just chatting, too.

.

snuggle was your trash cake cat, and there was really no deeper meaning behind the name. it was a snuggly cat, and loved attention. loved anyone and everyone who was willing to give it attention. sometimes you would wake up with it resting on your chest, sometimes you would see ratio lazily carrying snuggle around, and other times aventurine was playing with it making it chase a feather around. snuggle was the attention whore of the trio.

snuggle loved to follow you wherever you walked, especially to the bathroom. whether you were getting ready for the day or just trying to spend a few minutes doing human business, you had a pair of eyes watching over your ever move, making sure that you were never far from its sight, almost like it was protective over you. you couldn't help but compare it to your two partners, lord knows how often they were checking up on you in their own ways. ratio wasn't afraid of shooting you a text whenever he had a free moment while you were away to make sure you were okay, and aventurine was constantly on the phone with you through his headpiece.

" snuggle, i'm just going to the bathroom ! it's okay, really- " you gently protested, earning a small mew from the cat cake as it followed behind you into the bathroom, sitting patiently at the doorway, waiting for you to get finished with your business.

" hey, darling, i'm home from work ~ guess who i dragged back home with me after his lecture. " aventurine called out for you almost immediately, followed by the quieter voice of ratio announcing his presence as well.

you rolled your eyes at your partners immediately calling for you, your heart swelling with love for them, washing your hands as you walked out of the bathroom, snuggle hot on your tracks. " welcome back, guys. all of the cat cakes have been taken care of, and i started dinner. "

" thank you, i'm sure dinner will be pleasant as always, " veritas hummed, his briefcase still in his hand as he leaned down to kiss you on your lips.

" what would we do without you ? " aventurine weaseled his way in between you two, mostly because he also wanted to get his after work love from you.

.

a chatty cat cake with more intelligence that it originally seemed, a cat cake that needed to be calmed down when everyone left it alone with its thoughts, and a protective cat cake that enjoyed attention and making sure that those around it was okay.

maybe these were the perfect cat cakes for you three.

[heartfullofleeches]

Man imagine bustomer walking in and just seeing a bigass human monster long arm legged cat with a zipper??? Just staring.

Customer: *pays for item and rudely hands the money*

Lynel: *whispers behind them menacingly* …Say keep the change.

Customer: *shits their pants and on the brink of tears* mommy…

Lynlas tricks/enjoys messing with customers by pretending to be a statue propped up in Witch Reader's lobby/living room. In a normal household, a cat human creature held together by zippers may seem like an outlandish choice for decoration, but it feels right at home in the witch's possession.

-

"What a peculiar figurine...."

Aged fingers map the teeth of the zipper scaling the length of the statues face. They trail to its mouth, curled in a wide grin - unsurprised by the give of its teeth given the zipper's impression of there being something else underneath. The illuminated iris of its singular visible eye pokes through the shroud of darkness that is its sciera. Curiosity blossoms a new as attention is directed towards their right eye. A tab dangles from the sealed lid - small, hole circle scars in the skin indicating some of of former injury. The point of a needle, perhaps?

"Pardon me...."

The collector stiffens- Entering from the kitchen, floorboard's creak with each tap of your advancing steps. Standing before the older gentleman, you present him with the cup of tea requested from your lists of refreshments for guests. A smile dawns your face, yet it does not reach your eyes- They point away from the man, knowing and calculating. The watchful gaze of someone waiting for another to misbehave.

"Do you like them? Lynlas has been with me for some time now. They are the best companion one in my line of work could ask for."

The name of the figure lingers on the collector's tongue. "Lynlas....I beg you- I'll pay ten - twenty times more than what I came here for. It would be a marvelous addition to my collection."

Your face tightens, smile shrinking into something akin to a grimace. "I'm afraid they are not for sale."

You stumble - grounding a foot backwards as his hands perch onto your shoulders.

"Money is not an issue for me. Name your price, I insist!"

Your eyes once again dart towards the figure - a flicker of panic flashing over your otherwise relaxed expression. "Sir, please refrain from putting your hands on me. They do not want you-"

"Surely you can bare to part with it! You can fill your home with similar novelties with the money you'll gain-"

"Agh!"

Scolding white pain shoots through your hands, bleeding down your arms as scorching liquid seeps into the sleeves of your shirt. The tea cup crashes to the floor with a loud crack - your body falling to its knees along with it. The agony is fleeting, hurt morphing to terror as the tear of a zipper racks through the walls of your living room.

"Lynlas.... It was an accident."

Nails scrape along the wooden floor, bones snapping and cracking into place as the statue reaches its full height.

"Lynlas.... He is a senile old man. Do not attack him."

The collector turns as hot breath fans the nape of his neck. A long, greyed tongue unfurls from the backs of pointed teeth.

"Didn't you hear, old man.... I'm not for sale."

"LYNLAS!"

-

The feline's ears press flatly against their skull as they scrub blood out of your prized rug. Sniffling, it looks up at you - eye wet with tears.

"I'm sorry for ruining your favorite rug again, Master... Can I still sleep in your room tonight?"

[xurory]

₊ ⊹ MY ONE AND ONLY

cc — blade, dr ratio, xiao x gn!reader (sp). dr ratio addressed as veritas. prolly ooc xiao I LIKE HIM LIKE THAT OK . . :3

knowing BLADE, he struggled to find the desire to carry on living. he never wanted to live so long. death constantly haunted his mind, and he longed for the day when he could finally find solace and peace as he took his last breath. well, that was until he met you. from the moment he saw you, he found a profound purpose in his existence. every day afterward, he lived for the simple contentedness of seeing your face and hearing the sound of your sweet voice. you illuminated his life, introducing him to an unparalleled experience of affection and care. you became the vivid hues in his grey world, and from that moment, he never wished to look back on his previous gray reality. the most important aspect lies in the choice you made to stay with him. you could have left for many reasons, but you decided to be there for him in all the tough times.

after tending to his recent battle scars, you looked at him with a sense of sorrow before turning away to clean the remnants of blood from your hands.

"you should really be more careful next time." softly, you spoke, while setting aside the bloodied cloth. he instantly picked up on the worry in your words. "it's hard to avoid injuries."

athough he brushed off the concern, his awareness grew—he made a mental note to be more attentive in the future. he swore to enhance his vigilance, ensuring he would return untouched, sparing you the distress of patched-up wounds.

the sight of his bloodied form always stirred a pang in your heart. you knew the realities of his missions, where danger and combat awaited him.

he rose from the bed's edge, striding towards you as you tucked away the tools in the cabinet. Stealthily, he silently positioned himself behind you, startling you as you turned around. "i'm sorry, i just can't handle seeing you hurt." with sincerity, you said.

gently, you reached up, cupping his cheek as you pulled him into a heartfelt embrace. his arms snaked around your waist, the warmth of your touch emitting comfort. a silent understanding passing between the two of you. "ill... try." for you.

a gentle smile graced your lips as you pressed your hand to his cheek, leaving a tender kiss on the opposite side. Nestling the side of your head against his chest, you listened closely to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. a sound that constantly reassured you that your lover was there—with you.

—

for so long, VERITAS believed that no other individual would ever get past his standards for a lover. though he flaunted his intellect, his ego often overshadowed his better judgement. he carried a sense of superiority, dismissing others as unworthy of his time and effort, as if he were above the need for human connection. the irony unfolded—the same man who prided himself on independence found himself smitten by someone who embodied the opposite. a cheerful, effervescent presence. he would never acknowledge the fact that he treasured your company far more than he ought to. despite your differences, you effortlessly eased his worries with comforting words, showcasing a talent he never expected. in times of exhaustion, when his work weighed heavily on him, you stood by his side, silently and unknowingly being the cure for the undying stress.

a series of gentle knocks echoed through the room, followed by the creaking of his door as it inched open, unveiling your presence. "veritas, why are you still up? it's getting really late, you should be in bed with me right now.."

closing the door with a soft click, you made your way towards him at his desk, your words breaking the silence. the piles of work-related documents that littered his desk stood as a testament to his hectic schedule.

"i should be the one asking you that. why aren't you asleep?" intrigue danced in his gaze as he spun the chair to face you, grasping your hand securely in his. he drew you down, closing the gap between you. the moment was laced with a sweet intimacy as his lips met yours. "what made you think i'll sleep without you?" you giggled, rubbing circles on the back of his palm with your thumb.

from time to time, you found him drowning in his work, dedicating countless hours to his tasks. you were proud, of course. but you couldn't help but wonder if he was overburdening himself.

gazing down at the worksheet before you, you couldn't help but notice the same title that caught your eye the week before. "still working on that?"

he scoffed. "had no choice but to continue, since apparently—this is too much for them to comprehend." he pulled you onto his lap, his face finding comfort in the curve of your neck while your fingers gently threaded through his hair.

your soft laugh filled the room as you surrendered to the sweet gesture. "stay." he demanded, breathing against your skin.

and you were more than willing to keep him company while he finished what needed to be done.

—

XIAO's life revolved around shielding his nation, a sacred duty bestowed upon him after their revered archon's 'passing'. while he once embraced the solitude his role brought, something unexpected happened—he found comfort in having someone awaiting his return. at the end of each day, he looked forward to coming home to a familiar face he oh so loved. xiao had never thought that love could coexist alongside his duties. yet, there you were, shattering his preconceived notions, proving to him that nothing was impossible. with your patience and understanding, you showed him that your needs were simple. as long as he returned home, safe and sound, you were contented. you didn't demand his constant attention or expect him to fulfill every single one of your desires. instead, your love was a quiet, undying support that he never knew he needed.

the night hours slipped deeper into the darkness, and you found yourself comfortably resting in bed with a book in hand. leaning against the headboard, you immersed yourself between the pages, enjoying the silence.

a faint knock echoed through the room, swiftly followed by the creaking of the door as it swung open to reveal xiao standing in the doorway. the sight of him instantly brought a warm smile to your face, for deep down, you had been secretly hoping for his return tonight.

you immediately closed your book, sitting up by the edge of the bed. "welcome back. come." with a satisfied exhale, he collapsed onto the bed beside you, his arms enveloping your waist in a tight hug. he pulled you closer, finding comfort in your presence and the warmth of your body.

he allowed himself to be selfish—just this once, all he wanted was to rest in your arms. the people of liyue could look after themselves for one night, right?

"rough day?" you ask as your hand gently rubbed his back, he let out a soft exhale that echoed against your skin. in reply, he merely hummed, his response being just that—a sound of contentment that expressed everything he felt and needed in that moment. he cherished the tender touch of your hands, the warmth of your words, and the way your voice washed over him like a soothing balm.

snuggling closer, he buried his face deeper into your neck, holding you as if fearing you'd disappear. he murmured a quiet, 'i missed you,' his voice muffled against your skin as blood rushed up to your cheeks for he rarely ever uttered out such sweet words to you.

tonight, he wished to cast aside all titles and duties, if only for a brief moment. he craved the respite that came with shedding his role as the guardian; he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to seek comfort and assurance that he could only find in your arms.

from xumi : was supposed to include kazuha but im lazy ok D:

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

candy girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you're about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend's dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

You steer onto the cul-de-sac, the savoury smell of teryaki and honey garlic cloying at your stomach. A loud growl erupts from inside you as you come in sight of your destination. The suburban beacon stands two-storeys above ground and its white washed window frames seem to watch your approach with wide eyes. The home, even if it’s not your own, is welcoming. 

You pull in beside the white picket fence and park right behind the large slate grey BMW. It’s both gargantuan and sparkling compared to your beat up Fiat. Your steed isn’t a noble one but it gets the job done. Literally. 

The summer night hums with the call of the crickets and the drone of pool filters from the sprawling HOA-mandated yards. You get out and open the back seat, pulling out the stacked boxes that radiate with the mouth-watering aromas. You even managed to get Karl to give you a free tray of garlic knots before you clocked out. 

As you balance the wide load, teetering slightly at the awkwardness, you use your hip to shut the car door. You eye the vehicle in front of yours. You didn’t think he’d be there, at least that’s what Magni said. You suppose you can’t complain, it isn’t your house. 

A figure sits on the porch, as if waiting for you. At first, you think it’s your boyfriend but the build is slightly too broad to be him. The sheen of the light beside the front door also reveals a head of silvering blonde waves and not Magni’s shanky red hair. His father sits with his phone cradled over his lap, a metallic noise sounding from the speakers. 

You come up the front walk between the floating orbs cast by the solar lanterns implanted in the earth. Your soles scuff as you near the steps and Mr. Odinson lowers his phone as he looks up. You put on a smile though you don’t think he’ll see it. 

“It’s just me,” you announce as you hit the step with your toe and stumble. “Oof!” 

He’s quick to stand and rush over but you steady yourself and clammer up the steps in a graceful recovery. You giggle at yourself and even out the boxes to keep the pizza from getting to messed up. He stops nearby, looming over you as he blocks out the porch light. 

“Y’okay, little one?” He asks in his way. 

You laugh again, “all good! Clumsy old me.” 

“Mm,” he hums and gives an emphatic sniff, “I suppose you didn’t bring all that for me.” 

“There’s more than enough to go around,” you assure him. 

“Ah, well in that case, my son is in the garage,” he points, “I will gladly make sure the food gets to the kitchen unscathed.” 

You tilt your head at him and scoff, “don’t worry, I didn’t count the chicken wings or anything.” 

He chuckles and takes the boxes from you, “allow me,” he insists, “far too much for you to be carrying all this around.” 

“It’s my job, Mr. Odinson,” you shrug, “anyway, I’ll go find, Mag.” 

“Tell him to put his things away before he comes in,” he warns and backs up, easily carrying the full load of food in one hand, turning to pull the screen door open with his other. 

You hop back down the porch and along the walk, coming back down the driveway to the garage. You knock on the wide door as you hear raging metal music crashing from within. You like some of it, but a few songs just make your head hurt. 

The door reacts as the motor above whirs and reels it up. You bend to peek under and wave at Magni. He sits on a low rolling stool, his hands darkened with oil, and his motorbike half torn apart. Again. 

“Wow, what’s all this?” You ask as you dip under the door. 

“Eh, stupid thing got a rock in it, then I was thinking about modifying it... got a bit carried away.” 

He grabs a rag from his pocket as he stands and wipes his fingers. He’s about as tall as his father, though he’s lanky where the elder Odinson is bullish. You suppose he might fill out with age, not that you’re complaining. You have more than enough cushion for both of you. 

“Your dad took the pizza,” you say. 

“Ah, yeah, he was supposed to be out of town,” he grumbles. “Been lecturing half the night about this thing.”  

He gestures to the bike as he nears and bends to kiss you. You tilt your head up to meet him and get a bit more tongue than you expect. He grabs your ass as he pulls you against him and you gasp, pushing on his stomach. 

“You’re getting grease on my pants,” you part and tut at him. It’s only your uniform but you have two pair of work pants and one them is ripped. 

“Blends right in,” he gives you another tap. 

“Ugh, I was gonna do laundry on the weekend.” 

“Whatever,” he shrugs and continues to twist his finger into the dirty rag. “Too bad dad stayed,” he grumbles, “if he wasn’t here...” 

Heat razes your neck and you sway in place, digging your toe into the ground as you look away. You know what he was expecting and you tried to tell him you weren’t sure yet but he just doesn’t get it. You’re almost grateful you don’t have to repeat yourself. As much as you like him, it’s just too much too soon. 

“Mm, yeah,” you come forward and gather up the loose wrenches and bolts, putting them into the open box, “shouldn’t leave this all a mess.” 

“Eh, I’ll just be working on it again tomorrow,” he sniffs. 

You ignore his protest and continue to clean up after him. If you mention his dad, you don’t think it will motivate him. They can be volatile at times. Stubborn to say the least. It surprises you to see the discord between them. With a life like this, how could anyone be unhappy?  

You close up the tool box and roll it against the wall. Magni hits the button for the door and it rolls back down. You follow him to the interior door and climb the steps up into the main house. You leave your shoes on the mat as he keeps his on. 

Mr. Odinson pulls out plates as you enter the kitchen. He huffs as Magni tramps through and goes to the sink, flipping it on with two fingers and leaving grease on the silver. 

“Shoes on?” His father grumbles. 

“Forgot,” Magni utters. 

“Mm, wipe the faucet off when you’re done. You’re getting oil all over.” 

“Yeah, dad, I’ll do it,” Magni sneers. 

You gulp awkwardly as Mr. Odinson offers you a plate. 

“Gotta wash up too,” you wiggle your fingers at him, showing the dirt from the tools. 

“Ah, more work after work, I see,” he muses dryly. 

You smile and shrug and go to the sink as Magni shuts it off. You turn it back on and take your time lathering up your hands. You rinse off and make sure to wipe the smear on the silver too. As you turn around, Magni is loading up his plate with food. 

You wait patiently by Mr. Odinson as he hands you a plate. 

“Geez, save some for the rest of us, kid,” he chortles. 

“There’s lots,” Magni dismisses flippantly and walks away. 

“Eat at the table,” his dad calls after him. 

Mr. Odinson lets you go first. He makes you feel tiny as he patiently awaits his turn. You take more knots than you should but only a single slice of triple cheese. 

“I see you go the cinnamon bites...” he intones, “did you remember they’re my favourite?” 

“Oh, mine too!” You chime, “I didn’t but I’ll try to next time.” 

“Next time,” he echoes, “don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

You ignore the cryptic comment and grab a dipping sauce, “enjoy, Mr. Odinson.” 

“Mm, looks delicious,” he winks and his eyes linger on you before they drift over to the boxes. “Mmm, I prefer thighs but these wings smell amazing.” 

You turn and give the wall a strange look. He’s a funny guy, sometimes you have no idea what he’s talking about. You head off to join Magni in the dining room. He bends over his phone and quickly swipes with his pinky, bringing up his wallpaper. 

“I’m starving,” you sit down, “work was so hectic.” 

He growls into a chicken wing as he eats ravenously. You feel a similar hunger but you don’t want to be rude. It’s funny, growing up in a place like this, and he can be so... sloppy.  

Mr. Odinson walks in and drops a stack of napkins at the center of the table, “don’t stain the tablecloth.” 

You take a few and Magni just continues his feast. His dad sits with a cringe and shakes his head. He takes a garlic knot between two fingers, the morsel seeming so small, and bites into it delicately. He hums and you can’t help but share the sentiment, while you restrain yourself from mimicking his son as your stomach roars again. 

[mustainegf]

Can you do a step dad/current! James Hetfield smut??its fine if you can't I completely understand!!(srry if its so short I was in a rush!!)

this is actually so good and I had so much fun writing!!

❕ FEMALE CHARACTER IS 18+ ❕

WARNINGS: use of “daddy”, use of “princess”, stepdad x daughter, Reader is 18+, oral m & f receiving, unprotected sex, creampie

My breaths came out quick and hoarse, my fingers disappearing inside of me over and over.

I was so turned on by my new stepdad, but I couldn't do anything about it since he had just moved in a few months ago.

He was in his fifties or sixties and looked hot as hell with his broad shoulders and muscles. He had this sexy silver-grey hair that made him look more attractive than ever.

He was also very tall, almost towering over me. I kinda avoided him so he wouldn't sense how horny I'd get in his presence.

I continued to work at myself, imagining his cock inside me instead. I whimpered out. "J-James!"

I was home alone so It didn't matter.

I wanted to feel him inside me so bad. I didn't care if he was with mom, I wanted him to hold me down and fuck me as hard as he could.

Being alone, I didn't try to filter my vulgar noises; letting them spill out into the quiet room. "Daddy! Daddy, just like that!" I whined.

I rubbed my clit fiercely, just picturing his face.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cum!" I shook.

But before I could feel that sweet release, the sound of someone clearing their throat echoed from my doorway.

I gasped, and tugged my blanket up to cover me, my eyes darting to the doorway where the tall man stood.

Leaning agaisnt my door frame, a grin plastered over his face, was James, my fucking stepdad.

"Oh my god," I stuttered, my cheeks heating. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in." I tried to act cool even though I knew I wasn't.

He took a step forward. "You were really enjoying yourself there." My blush deepened as I stared at the ground.

I didn't respond I was far too mortified. James sat up and stepped into the room.

"Look at me," he said softly. I met his gaze. His eyes glittered with mischief and desire.

"I'm not going to judge you, sweetheart. I see it all the time when I look at you. You are always so hot and bothered around me."

Hidden by the blanket, I couldn't help but apply a small bit of pressure to my clit. "I could hear you saying my name.." James whispered.

"How often to you masturbate to me, honey?" He continued, ghosting his fingers under my chin.

"E-Every single night," I admitted.

“That makes me so happy, sweetheart. Are you gonna quit playing games with me? Tell me what you want." He stated calmly, lifting the corner of the blanket to uncover my wet panties that cling to my body.

"Y-you.. James." I whined as his fingers brushed last the damp fabric.

"Don't call me that honey," he said under his breath, staring me down as his fingers toyed with me.

He shoved the blanket aside, kneeling in bed ahead of me, looking down at me. "Speak up, baby."

"If you don't say what I know you want to, then maybe I should just leave.." he taunted, setting his hands on my knees.

"Daddy, please!" I whined.

He grinned as I gave him what he wanted, his hands spreading my legs apart. I was terrified to do something like this with my stepdad, but It was all I wanted

I needed it. And I trusted him enough to let him have his way with me. A strong hand gripped me by the thigh, bringing me closer to the edge.

"I think about touching this pretty pussy all the time, Princess." He hummed.

The air grew thick between us as he leaned in closer. My chest heaving with rapid breaths, I nodded. "Yes, Daddy. Please!" I moaned. My eyes widened in surprise when he grabbed my ankle and dragged me toward him.

He grabbed my panties tugging them down my legs and illiciting a breathy gasp from me.

"You are so beautiful," he praised. "Thank you, Daddy," I whispered. "I have never seen anyone look as sexy as you do right now."

He said, his voice husky. "Your pussy is glistening. So perfect, just like I thought." He rubbed his thumb against my clit, making me cry out.

"Hmm. Maybe I should start here," he murmured, kissing my inner thigh.

"Is that okay?" He asked. I bit my lip, nodding.

"Whatever you want, Daddy." I breathed. His fingers skimmed over my legs, dipping into the valley of my hips. "Such a good girl for your daddy."

He cooed, kissing my lower stomach before licking his way down until his tongue was lapping up every drop of my juices. "Mmm..." He groaned.

"You taste delicious, little princess. "

He paused. Lifting his head, his Light blue eyes fixed on mine. The look on his face told me he meant every word.

This was one of the hottest things I'd ever witnessed. I loved it.

“Keep going, Angel. Your daddy wants you to cum so hard you can't walk tomorrow." My eyes rolled back as I came undone.

His tongue was ruthless. I felt him swallow every ounce of my orgasm down. I cried out as my body tightened, he licked me clean. I lay there, spent, my heart thumping wildly against my chest.

"Now it's your turn missy.." he leaned upright and towards me. "I want you to suck me off," he growled in my ear.

I could hardly wrap my head around the fact that my stepdad wanted me to suck his dick. I loved it.

James switched places with me, tugging off his shirt.

I admired his stalkish build, and the slightly faded tattoos that lay beneath the thin layer of silver hairs on his chest.

"Don't be shy, honey," he cooed, helping me undo his jeans and tug them down.

He kicked off his jeans, leaving him only in his boxer briefs. I could easily see the huge bulge that strained beneath the fabric. Fuck.

"Take 'em off baby, you're a big girl," he taunted, nudging his hips just slightly.

With a gulp, I reached for the waistband of his underwear, slowly tugging them down.

The moment they passed his ankles, I gasped. God, he was massive. He watched me, chuckling under his breath.

"What did I tell you, baby?" he asked with a smirk. I stared at his cock, licking my lips. I had never seen anything quite like it. My stepdad was seriously well endowed.

It looked so smooth and soft, the head swollen.

James eyed me as he gripped the base, waiting for me to put my mouth to use.

"Suck it, babe. Show me you mean it." I moved to straddle him, taking his cock into my hand. It was a bit thicker than I thought it would be, and it was longer too.

I had known he was hung, but seeing it first hand was crazy. There was so much of it to grasp onto. I hesitated before putting it in my mouth. No turning back now.

Gripping it firmly, I slid the length of it into my mouth. Fuck, it tasted so good. I got lost in the flavor. The vein running along the side of it was silky, yet rough. The tip was sensitive and made me salivate.

Leaning forward, I swallowed his length and let my tongue lick over the sensitive tip. "Fuck, princess," he grunted. "You're such a good girl." He murmured, petting my hair. A shiver ran through me at his words. "Such a dirty girl, sucking your stepdads cock."

He moaned. I bobbed up and down, loving how it felt in my mouth. I was able to fit a lot of it in. "So good," he breathed. The feel of him in my mouth caused me to get wetter. My clit throbbed, demanding attention.

If I had been standing, I would have fallen. I sucked harder, moving my head faster. I loved how my stepdad was using his free hand to play with my breasts, tweaking my nipples.

They were so sensitive. "Just like that, babe," he encouraged. I looked up, locking eyes with him.

His eyes were closed as he rocked into my mouth, driving deeper.

Ohhh, my god. I loved everything about it. How he felt in my mouth, the taste of him. James was truly the best. He was good at everything. In my eyes, there was nothing better.

"That's it princess, bouta make me cum..." he groaned.

I bobbed my head faster, letting my saliva drip down his length each time. James gripped the back of my head, shoving me down further as I gagged.

I didn't Protest this though, I wanted to do anything to make him cum.

"Right there, right there, fuck..." James panted, still forcing me down, I could feel him swelling in my mouth.

I moaned around his cock, holding it tightly in my throat. "That's it, baby," he grunted. "Swallow my cum, Princess." I could feel his balls tighten. He was close.

His hands were in my hair again, pulling me up. I kept his cock deep in my throat, milking him. His body shook. "Fuuuuck!" He shouted. He filled my mouth. He came so much. So much I started to gag, choking on his cum.

"Good girl, good girl, you're such a good girl," he babbled, petting my hair, stroking me until I stopped coughing. I milked him until he finished emptying himself down my throat.

"Daddy.." I whispered, my throat finally free as he pulled his dick out.

"I can see that look in your eye, baby. You want me to be inside you, honey?" He cooed, brushing his thumb over my cheek.

"Please, please daddy.." I begged, crawling into his lap.

"So eager, aren't you princess?" He smiled, giving his cock a few pumps.

I grabbed his face, locking my lips with his for the first time. It was an odd concept; kissing my stepdad, but it felt right. And so good.

He kissed me right back, tongue forcing its way into my mouth.

I groaned, opening wider to allow him access. My stepdad was so hot. I couldn't imagine being without him. I just wanted to be with him forever.

James broke the kiss, looking me in the eyes.

"How bad do you want daddy to fuck you?" He hissed soflty, my body suddenly filled with the sensation of him running the tip through my folds.

My breath caught in my throat. "Bad," I moaned.

"Very bad." He chuckled. "You better not scream too loud, princess. I don't want anyone to hear you."

I rocked my hips on the pressure of his cock. I was a little worried that he wouldn't fit inside me, I'd only had sex once or twice. Him on the other hand was extremely experienced, not to mention huge.

I didn't want to embarrass myself by not being able to take him. But I couldn't go any longer without feeling him inside me. I needed him. Desperately.

"Daddy, please.." I whimpered, my neck twitching.

He ran his hand up and down my spine, then trailed it down my ass, pushing my legs farther open. "Hmm, what's that baby?" He purred, sliding the tip inside me.

I squirmed at the sudden penetration, gripping his shoulders as I whined loudly. James' hands gripped my hips gently, holding me in place.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he urged. "I need to hear the words, princess. Don't make me stop." I looked up at him, meeting his stare.

"I want you, Daddy. I need you. Please."

I whimpered, wiggling my hips against his. He chuckled lowly. "Lord knows, I need you too, little one. I've wanted you for so long." He grinned as he slid his cock inside me in one powerful thrust.

The pain was intense, and I clawed at his shoulders. "Shh, baby. Just breathe. Feel your daddy inside you. Relax." He repeated as he held me still.

I was right, it stretched me a lot, but it was also the best feeling in the world.

James bounced me on his cock, thrusting up alongside. "Fuck! Daddy!" I cried out.

"Right there honey….. god, I think you're the tightest I've fucked." he groaned.

"Mmmm, that's right baby, ride that dick, just like that. Fuck, your wetness is driving me wild." He hissed, still pumping into me.

“Ooh, that's right... daddy, harder, fuck me harder, daddy." I bucked my hips.

He squeezed my thighs with large tattooed hands, gripping me tighter, ramming me into the mattress. I could barely keep up with him. I rode him until I couldn't anymore.

"Such a good girl," he growled as I collapsed, hardly having enough energy to keep riding him.

"Just relax while daddy fucks you."

He ordered. Ilaid my head on his chest, breathing heavily. I wasn't sure I could handle more. He held me up, still inside me, cradling me in his arms as he rammed into me.

"Yes, Daddy, yes, that's it..." I whined, my body getting used to him, and I became more flexible.

"Oooh, yes! Yes, yes!" I cried out. James's pace picked up.

I arched my back, causing him to push harder into me. I was soon screaming out his name, throwing my head back. "James!" I cried out, holding on for dear life as I was transported to another plane of existence.

He continued to thrust into me. I was so full, I thought I would burst. "Daddy, daddy, I'm going to cum again." I squealed.

“Cum all over daddy's cock, princess. Let it happen." He encouraged.

I cried out his name as my walls pulsated around him. "Ohhh, daddy!" I gasped. "Ohhh, fuck, I'm cumming too." James slammed into me, jerking his hips as he shot rope after rope of seed into me.

"That's it baby, cum on my cock. That's it." He growled. He continued to hold me, both of us breathing heavily. When he started to soften, we both dropped onto the bed, both of us exhausted.

I couldn't believe my own stepdad had just cum inside me. I loved it.

"You're gonna make me addicted to you, Princess." He murmured, rubbing up my back.

[st-el-la-luna]

Call of the Valley {Call of Duty x Reader/Stardew Valley AU｝

Prologue: Grey

➔ gn!reader ("you"/"your" pronouns used), thoughts of violence, mentions of death

no character introductions yet, just some world building. unedited

Series masterlist!

next

997 words

Grey walls. Grey ceilings. Grey floors. Grey desks. 

Everywhere you look is grey. From the meticulously lined cubicles to the desks lacking any personalization. From the uncomfortable chairs to the equally as uncomfortably sticky floors. From the company provided coffee mug to the company provided calendar. From your coworker's outfit (you swear that sweater used to be blue) to the contents of your lunch. 

It’s all grey. 

You sigh as you push around the mushy overcooked rice on your desk before you. In the silence of the office, you might as well have fired a gun, the sound a stark contrast to the usual deadness. The only sounds typical of this purgatory you call work are the tap-tap-tapping of keys and the clicking of mouses. Plus, the occasional beep of the microwave, or slam of the fridge door (you swear that fridge has been here longer than any employee. The way the lightbulb buzzes when you open the door sounds like a cry for help. A plea for you to end its decades-long misery. You, of course, don’t. If you must suffer, then so too must the fridge). 

Someone clears their throat from the entry of your cubicle. You turn away from your sad little lunch to find your sad little supervisor. Who, surprise, surprise, is dressed in, you guessed it, even more grey. 

“Something the matter?” she asks you with a smile that makes you want to use your cheap plastic fork to carve out her eyes. “I could have sworn I heard something.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” you try for a smile in return, not sure why you bother considering you hate her guts as much as she hates yours. “I’m just... tired.” 

“Well, tired or not, you know better than to bring that kind of attitude to the workplace. Big smiles, remember? The atmosphere matters you know!” 

“Right, yeah,” you nod, barely able to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “Big smiles.” 

“Come on, let’s see it,” your supervisor says, tapping the sign on your cubicle wall *Smile, you’re with Joja!* You put on a smile which she returns with a patronizing scrunch of her nose, talking to you like one would an unruly child. “There, that wasn’t that hard now, was it?” 

It wouldn’t be too hard to use my stapler to knock your teeth in, you bitch. It’d only take a couple of hits... All the red would really brighten this place up... Ever heard of colour theory? 

“Yeah,” you smile. “Not that hard.” 

Your computer beeps. Your lunch break is over. You haven’t touched your food. 

Your supervisor's smile widens. The brown-nosing corporate shill that she is. “Well, you’d better get back to it... And try to do better this afternoon. Your numbers have been trailing all morning. I’d hate to have to write you up.” 

“Yeah,” you say as you drop your food into the rubbish. “I’m sure.” 

Your computer goes off again, demanding your attention. Your supervisor stands there for a moment longer than she needs to, as if checking that you’re really going to work, then hums, pleased, and walks away. 

It’s going to be a long day...  

But hey, look on the bright side, you won’t be doing this forever. 

One day you’ll die. 

Die... The thought echoes in your head for a bit. Die... Die... 

Your gaze falls to the drawer of your desk where the letter from your late great-uncle sits, waiting to be opened. You didn’t know the guy much, the family didn’t really talk about him, and he never came to any gatherings. But he had no kids and, well... No one really. He’d been thrilled when you had expressed interest in enlisting in your early teens. He taught you all the tricks of the trade and then some. 

He was less thrilled when you told him you’d changed your mind. 

It really wasn’t that shocking news. He’d kept talking on and on about pulling some strings, using his connections, but it’s just... not what you wanted anymore. You weren’t a kid anymore and well, you had to be realistic. 

Besides, they didn’t want you to enlist. You’d tried and well... While you passed the physical tests fine and were more than smart enough to work in intelligence or as a bomb tech, your psychological tests were... Less than stellar. Which was difficult to explain to a man who, despite having watched countless of his friends die and witness atrocities you could never fathom, thought that mental illness was a sham created by the youth to get out of doing real work. 

It’s not like you’d caused his heart attack. He was already sick. And all the smoking and drinking from his days on active duty surely didn’t help. He got himself too worked up over something small, and well... His heart just couldn’t take any more of it. 

Speaking of being unable to take anymore... you can hear your supervisor coming back around. You look between your monitor and the desk drawer. Monitor. Drawer. Monitor. Drawer. Monitor. Drawer. Monitor... 

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to write you up. Just know this isn’t-” 

“I quit.” 

And, just like that, you grab your few personal belongings and shove past her to the door, manilla envelope clutched in your hand.  

She sputters something behind you, makes a move to grab your wrist. You dodge. 

“You can’t be serious,” she says. “You... You can’t quit now! It’s the busiest time of the year!” 

“I just did... Oh, and Stacy?” 

“Yes?” she asks, almost hopeful. 

“You’re a right bitch. Just wanted to let you know.” 

Her entire face goes red as her cheeks puff out. “You... I... Wh...” 

You leave her there to her aneurysm, walking into the elevator and letting the doors close behind you. 

You lean your head back against the grey wall, resting your weight against the railing. You glance at the envelope in your hand. 

God... Please don’t let this be a mistake.  

please comment and reblog to support my writing! asks are always open! Literally nothing inspires me to write more!

who should we meet first and how?

taglist: @tooloudarts @cadotoast

Masterlist!

[woo-wahhhh]

[ too much energy ] "kaji..."

"what?!"

"did you seriously just walk into my shop, before class, and already injured?" you scowled back, rolling your eyes as you regarded his relaxed figure in the doorway. a part of you marvelled how he looked perturbed by your disbelief than he was of the blood freshly running down his arm. "you have way too much energy this early in the morning, dude."

"look, clown me all you want, but let's get one thing straight," he grit out. he jabbed a finger vindictively at you, followed by the insanely loud clacking of his stupid lollipop against his teeth. "i didn't get into a fight."

"colour me impressed," you couldn't help but quip sarcastically, though you motioned him to come closer to where you were rummaging under the counter. you were grateful that being so early, no one had come into buy flowers yet, since it would be a bit of a jump scare to find a man bleeding out.

"shut up," he hissed, glaring perpetually while he took a seat behind your counter, and sticking his arm out. it was amusing, how someone could look annoyed yet so charming in the same action. you almost wanted to comment on the his childish appearance, but you had a feeling he'd slap his headphones on and dash out if you did.

"well?" you prompted, pulling out a first aid kit and setting it on the counter. "what happened to your arm then?"

you could feel his hawkish gaze trail after your every move, scrutinizing each action with such intensity, you couldn't tell if he was pissed off or if he was under an enchantment.

"that granny lost her cat again," kaji said simply.

this boy, you cursed internally as you pulled out disinfectant and bandages. "and?"

"what do you think happened?" he scowled, canines flashing as he grit his teeth at the sting of the ointment. "it fucking scratched me when i caught it." he shook his fringe out of the way, perhaps to properly express his annoyance.

"you look much more handsome when you're angry," you blurted out, reaching up to push his hair back without thinking too much– after all, he was your boyfriend. but more importantly, it was much to his incredibly visible chagrin– by habit, he flinched, automatically trying to grab at his headphones, but he couldn't shake off your grip on his arm, leaving him to clutch one side like a damsel in distress, eyes wide and horrified.

but he calmed down quickly enough when you didn't pay him mind, too accustomed to his shenanigans, humming lightly as you focused on the bandages and keeping the heat from dancing up your spine. there was a simmering tension between you; unspoken, though his eyes were dead set on your nimble movements, the distinct weight of his gaze telling you he wouldn't look away, or more properly, he couldn't.

once you finally looked up from your finished work, you noted his eyebrows were knit together, the permanent glare on his face still written in stone, but his tone was somehow gentler than he let on. "look me in the eyes if you're gonna say stuff like that."

silence ensued, of course, your eyebrows quirking up as the obvious dangled from your tongue.

"kaji, you just looked like you were about to bolt outta here,"

"well, yeah, how else am i supposed to act when you say that?"

"i- i don't know," you stammered, suddenly hyperaware of how he wasn't looking away, how his eyes were practically tracing over every contour of your face with the intensity that could burn. "maybe- maybe act a bit more touched?"

"touched?" he echoed, a bit of incredulous sneer in his voice as he hopped off his seat. the abruptness of it all startled you as your back unwittingly hit the counter, and before you could make your own grand escape, he placed an arm on each side of you, effectively caging you in.

the sudden change up from the incredibly flustered kaji to this steamrolling behaviour made your head spin as you gaze up at him with wide eyes that were only met with a grey, smouldering gaze with the intensity of a storm.

"here," kaji swiftly popped out the lollipop from his mouth, holding it to you. you hesitantly took it from his hand, the question of "what the hell, dude?" bubbling at your lips when without a warning, he grabbed your face and kissed you.

short and sweet, but somehow still awfully fierce for that early in the day– you expected nothing less from ren kaji.

"now what was about?" you giggled as you pulled back, dotingly reaching up to smear your lip gloss onto his chapped lips. an act of giving and receiving, one could even say, since he'd left you with the sickeningly sweet taste of caramel on your tongue. "do you like it when i call you handsome?" you teasingly chimed.

"shut up," kaji grumbled once again, pushing his hair back and pressing his forehead against yours. "you looked cute and i just felt like it, that's all." maybe to someone else, that wasn't a fulfilling response, but you knew how straightforward kaji was, and that he wouldn't lie about something like that.

"well, if you're feeling like it then," you whispered, your lips bumping into his as you spoke, "you should kiss me again."

"demanding," kaji huffed out, though he hoisted you up onto the counter anyways without breaking a sweat, a small, but cocky smile on his face when you grabbed onto his shoulders for dear life.

"oh my god, at least warn me!" you complained. maybe you really should have kept an eye on the door, but with his figure before you, and slotted between your legs and the his hand gently coaxing you forward by the nape of your neck, it was hard to care.

"you have way too much energy to yap in the morning," he chided indignantly, but the way he was already leaning up suggested otherwise.

"hey, you're the one who–!"

"morning, (name)! did kaji already pop by– oh,"

"w-w-we'll just– uh– s-see you at school, k-kaji!?" enomoto managed to croak out before they both scurried away with mildly red faces, reminding you less of the teenage gang members they were and more of children.

you almost fell off the counter, had it not been for kaji's reflexes, but the damage had been done, and the lollipop he'd entrusted you with fell to the floor with a dull thud as enomoto and kusumi blinked at the two of you with horrified expressions.

"hey boys," you greeted casually with a wave.

"oh my, we've made a scandal, darling," you joked– regrettably, or so you thought later in the day when the rest of the tamon team's second years started cooing at at poor kaji. perhaps it was a lesson to not be so energetic in the mornings from then on.

[yuurei20]

Hello! I wanted to ask if it's ever mentioned what the duties for housewardens and/or vices are? If not, what are things that are likely to be their duties?

Hello hello!! Thank you so much for this question!

There does not seem to be any official list of housewarden/vice housewarden duties available and it can be difficult to tell the difference between position-dictated-responsibilities and things the characters do just because they want to--but we can try! :>

Housewarden meetings are decidedly a housewarden/vice-housewarden duty, with Leona saying that even he can't get out of them.

Vil says that they are vital, as "they affect things campus-wide," and there seems to be voting, documentation-distributing and report-delivering related to them, all handled by the Housewardens.

According to Leona vice-housewardens can be sent to attend these meetings in a housewarden's place, as we see Lilia do for Malleus.

Riddle says that "any self-respecting Housewarden should be capable of resolving his dorm members' problems" and Leona seems to agree, saying that looking out for the younger students is "all part of the housewarden job description."

This seems to include instructing the new students in how to wear their robes: when Vil realizes that Jack is struggling with how to do so properly his first question is, "What has your housewarden been teaching you?

Another universal responsibility might be the welcoming party for new students that directly follows the orientation! Jamil, Trey and Vil all reference this party, with Cater losing a bet and having to take on Trey's duties of looking out for the new students during it.

In the first visual book Yana has a comment alluding to how it is undecided if Savanaclaw even has a welcoming party, however, so it is possible that this party is not a school-wide housewarden responsibility.

Authorizing the use magic against intruders seems to be decisively a housewarden-only ability, and Lilia says that choosing the dorm's Halloween costumes has to be done by either the housewarden or vice-housewarden.

A slightly more grey area is the heading one of the school's management committees for its various events: Riddle, Azul and Vil all head different committees at different times (with Jade once serving as treasurer), but are those positions only open to Housewardens? It is unclear!

Similarly grey: Riddle says that every member of the Book-6 group has been trained as a first responder in the event of an emergency, but is that training limited to vice-housewardens and housewardens? Epel says that they need permission to leave campus, but is vice housewarden/housewarden approval enough, or does it need to come from Crowley?

Memorizing student names may also be a housewarden responsibility: Jamil says he would like to do so (Kalim: "Do what he said!") but Jamil is not the best reference for typical vice-housewarden duties, as he keeps Scarabia running in addition to handling Kalim's personal matters.

Ignihyde students rankle at Idia revealing that he barely knows anyone's names after becoming housewarden, so it seems to be expected.

Lilia says that students need the housewarden's permission to reserve the dorm lounge for events like parties, but it is not specified if this is a school-wide rule or exclusive to Diasomnia.

Riddle cautions Kalim about not "acting the part" of Housewarden which, according to him and Vil, seems to be involve correcting poor behavior and being a model to other students. Riddle also mentions needing to attend orientation rehearsal, which may be exclusive to Housewardens (he mentions doing so to Trey, making it sound as though Trey with not be joining him).

While Riddle and Azul have the additional responsibilities of enforcing the laws of the Queen of Hearts and running Mostro Lounge, those may be exclusive to Heartslabyul/Azul rather than school-wide, housewarden duties (Azul founded Mostro Lounge, which should mean it did not exist before he arrived and might cease to exist once he graduates, making it less so a housewarden responsibility than his personal project).

We learned in Cater's fourth birthday vignette that Heartslabyul's housewarden is also responsible for assigning the suits of cards on each student's face, and applying it for the first time.

(In the novel Ace says that Riddle decides dorm room assignments, too, but we do not know if this is exclusive to Heartslabyul, a school-wide rule or canon to the game at all.)

For vice-housewardens, they seem to have the responsibility of supervising the dorms in the event that a houswarden is unavailable.

Trey says that he can issue "a sleepover pass" as vice-housewarden (and we see him deny one to Cater), so it might be a campus-wide vice-housewarden duty rather than something exclusive to Heartslabyul.

Other vice-housewarden duties seem specific to the dorm in question!

We see Trey assigning tasks and handling issues for Heartslabyul's unbirthday party and saying that his main priority is "keeping (his) housewarden from going berserk." Jade asks, "is it a vice housewarden's job to regulate his housewarden's emotions as well?"

Trey tells Jade that "a vice housewarden isn't the housewarden's servant," which is a sentiment that Floyd echoes in Book 4.

Azul has Jade create menus for Mostro Lounge, Riddle assigns him the task of keeping an eye on Floyd and Azul asks him to collect personal data about new students, but the above may be unique to Trey and Jade rather than vice-housewarden tasks that are performed in each dorm :>

[talesof-old]

james potter in grey sweatpants. would literally be on my knees for him i swear

- 🦌

bitchhhh i can’t do this right now 😭 i’m gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

sweatpants | j.p.

pairing(s): james potter x fem!reader

warning(s): 18+, smut but not, suggestive?, dry humping, making out, idk

word count: 520

masterlist

You turned the page of your book, patient as James finished showering. The past three weeks had been hard on your boyfriend, Quidditch practice after practice all day everyday. The team was being worked to the bone, but they’d taken it with far more grace than you would. In the brief glimpse you’d gotten, James’ body seemed wound with tension. Your eye twitched as you heard the shower shut off.

In record time, James was exiting the bathroom, tossing his towel into the hamper. You unabashedly stared. You weren’t blind—James was an exquisite man, toned and solid and strikingly beautiful. Grey sweatpants hung low on his hips and your mouth watered. At this point, you’d practically conditioned yourself to fuck him when wore those pants.

“What?”

Though his smirk was enough to tell you he knew exactly what you were thinking, you shrugged and made grabby hands at him. He all but strutted towards you. You smiled, fingers grazing damp skin as he stood in front of you. James placed his hands in his hips. He fought back a shiver as you traced over his v-line. Years ago, he’d gotten antlers tattooed on his abdomen and you were shameless as you pressed a kiss to the nearest one. James inhaled sharply.

You grinned. Tracing over his brown skin, you ran a finger over the hem of his sweatpants. His dick twitched, a sight that nearly had you moaning yourself. James stiffened, his larger hand coming to rest atop of yours.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You leaned forward, resting your chin on his hip and batting your eyelashes up at him. He groaned. “You’re a minx.” You giggled at the tortured undercurrent of his voice. James was always so confident and charming, it was a gift to see him flustered.

“I’m not sure what you mean, love.” He raised an eyebrow at you, carding through his black hair as if to give his hands something else to do other than grab at you.

“You can touch me, I promise I don’t mind.” He exhaled slowly. Something was warring within him, you could see it in his dark eyes. “And where is it you’d like me to touch you?”

You leaned back on the bed, settling on the pillows and opening your legs.

“Where ever you want.”

James was on you in a breath, crawling onto the bed and kissing you hard on the mouth. He slid a hand underneath your waist and pressed your body tight against his. “Merlin,” he breathed. “You’re,” he paused to kiss down your neck. “So,” he nipped at your collarbone, teeth sending tingles across your skin. “Devious.” He punctuated the sentence by returning his mouth to yours.

You snaked an arm around his shoulders and tangled your fingers in his wet, unruly curls. He whimpered as you tugged on the strands. You grinned, wrapping your legs around his lower body and rolling your hips to grind against his. His dick had gone hard, poking against your pelvic bone. You laughed when James let his head fall to your shoulder.

“You’re gonna kill me, honey.”

+++

[fluentmoviequoter]

Devastation

Requested Here by @newobsessionweekly!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: You leave Tim because he takes out his frustration about a long day on you. The next day, everyone in the station can tell you're both miserable. A surprise calls sends Tim into a devastated spiral as he wonders if what he said was worth it.

Warnings: ANGST, arguments, break up, death, mentions of execution, brief fluff at the end bc Tim deserves a break

Word Count: 3.4k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Los Angeles is seeing an intense spike in crime rates.”

“The Los Angeles Police Department has received more calls today than in the last two months combined.”

“A new, temporary emergency line has been announced. In case of emergency and busy 9-1-1 lines, please call…”

“Nearly 5,000 police officers are on the streets of Los Angeles city limits, with more dispatched throughout the county.”

As residents lock themselves into their homes in an attempt to be protected by the crime spike, you respond to call after call with no break in between. Some of the stops you’ve made were false alarms, but you’ve also been shot at, yelled at, and engaged in two fights between those pointless stops. Though overtime was approved, you’re nearing the end of your sixteenth hour in the shop and need a break. Grey called the officers from this morning to return to the station before heading home. You only get eight hours off before you have to come back, but you’ll take what you can get.

Tim’s place is closer to the station, so you plan to go there rather than your home on the other side of the city. The more time you can find to sleep, the better. You’re sure everyone is just as tired and in need of rest, so you would like to do something special for them in the morning. If you can wake up in time, that is.

“Hi,” you greet when Tim opens his door.

He is obviously surprised to see you but invites you in any way. You thank him as you walk toward the couch.

“Can I crash here tonight? It’s closer and I’m exhausted.”

Tim scoffs before he nods. He returns to the kitchen and continues cooking as you set your bag down.

“How was your day?” you ask. “I had endless calls, so I can’t imagine how hectic it was for you.”

“Of course you can’t,” Tim replies without looking up. “Considering you’re just a glorified meter maid.”

Tim is tired and stressed, you remind yourself, but the words still cut through you like the knife in his hand. You were in dangerous situations for most of the day, and though you haven’t been a cop as long as Tim, your job is still important. And you’re good at it.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask after a tense moment of silence.

“What I said. I do more than you, but if you’re so exhausted that you can’t even drive home-“

“Tim, that’s-”

Tim finally looks up as he cuts you off to say, “You barely passed your rookie exam, you haven’t made a decent-sized arrest in months, and you think they attached you to any decent calls? This city is ripping at the seams right now and trust me when I say you are chasing garden fluff because no one trusts you to do any more. You’re lucky they were desperate enough to bring you up from writing traffic tickets. We just needed help and you were there.”

Tim’s jaw clenches as he steps toward you, and you try to remember that he is just emotional from a long day. You are, too, but you’re not taking it out on him.

“I don’t want to fight with you about this,” you offer.

“Well, sure. Because it can’t be your fault, right?” Tim asks.

His voice is rising, and only the couch separates you. His eyes are dark, and though you don’t want to give him an excuse to keep going, you refuse to be treated like this.

“Why does everything have to be about who is at fault with you?” you demand. “Are you aware that things just happen sometimes?”

“Not to you, though.”

“If you think my life is so perfect, why do you insist on worrying about me so often? No one asked you to do any of this! You could have just asked me to go home if you were this upset about a bad day.”

“You don’t even know what a bad day is! What did you do today? Respond to all of the scared housewives in gated communities?”

You could tell him the truth, that you were inches away from a bullet intended to kill you, but you think he’d somehow find a way to blame you. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and though you want to stop fighting, you also need to remind Tim that you’re not a rookie he can walk all over you and blame for every little thing that goes wrong in his life.

“If that’s what you think I do, I can’t change your mind,” you reply.

“Well, those of us who actually acted like cops today went through more than you’ve seen in your career. You’re a bad cop, which makes it harder on the rest of us, to carry your weight, but no one admits it after they see your pretty smile,” Tim snaps loudly.

“I’m done, Tim!” you yell.

You’re surprised by the volume of your statement, but it gets Tim to fall silent, if only for a moment.

“With what?” he asks.

“This! I am done coming back to you every day just for you to pick fights over nothing!”

“Oh, so now it’s nothing? You can complain about your day, but I can’t?”

“That’s the difference, Tim! You’re not complaining about a long day to share something and ask for comfort. You’re tearing me apart because you can’t handle your own emotions. I love you, but these fights aren’t worth it.”

“You love me but I’m not worth it,” Tim says with a sarcastic shrug and set jaw.

“That’s not what I said, and you know it.”

“Well maybe I’m just as stupid about emotions and relationships as you are about police work.”

You pick up your bag and pull it onto your shoulder quickly. As you brush past Tim, you murmur, “I’m not doing this anymore.” The door slams behind you as you leave and severs the connection you and Tim had.

After you leave, Tim sits in his anger for a while. He blames you, picks apart everything you said, and misremembers your words to make you seem like the bad guy. Suddenly, though, Tim hears your genuine I love you, but these fights aren’t worth it. He remembers the look in your eyes as he yelled at you. You never wanted to fight; you asked to stop because you just wanted to relax before returning to work. Yet Tim treated you as an emotional punching bag, something he promised himself he would never do.

Tim drops his head into his hands and sighs. He needs to apologize but can’t take back a word he said. You said you weren’t doing it – your relationship, he presumes – anymore, so Tim gives you room. The clock ticks slowly as he thinks about you, but his next shift grows nearer quickly. He texts you an apology, knowing it’s less than the least he can do. You deserve a grand gesture, a middle-of-the-night, in-person apology from the heart. But with an early morning shift, Tim knows you and he both need the break Wade sent you home to take. So, he sends a few simple words before sitting back in his misery.

In your room, you sit alone to wallow. Your phone buzzes, and you read Tim’s apology before you toss your phone to the side. It’s not enough to forgive or forget everything he said, and you can’t return to that environment yet. So, you don’t answer.

You fall asleep at the same time as Tim, though far away from the comfort you craved, with only a few hours before you’ll be forced to see each other again. Maybe another seemingly endless shift will distract you from your sadness.

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station the morning after your fight with Tim, your injured pride and broken heart go nearly undetected. You attribute this in part to the specialty donuts you brought in; you couldn’t sleep anyway, so you left before your alarm went off to try to make everyone else’s day better than yours. Lucy talks to you in the locker room like it’s just another morning, even though you are heartbroken. Tim, however, is the talk of the station. His visible devastation and misery draw the attention of every officer in the building. When you step out and unintentionally make eye contact with him, the people closest to you can see what you’re hiding a little better. 

“I should have seen it before,” Lucy tells Angela. “She was acting a little different, but I thought she was just tired.”

“I’ve never seen Tim like this before. He is miserable,” Angela says. “And he will take it out on you.”

“That’s fine. But… will they be okay?”

Angela shrugs. “I wish I could say yes, Lucy.”

Wade notices you and Tim sitting on opposite sides of the room during roll call, and he’s the last of them to be pulled into your shared misery. Now that you have seen Tim, your misery is just as obvious, and even the people who don’t know you or Tim well can see the difference.

“Nolan,” Wade calls before he instructs John to ride with you for the day. You’re unsure if it’s because of you and Tim or something else you don’t know about. Regardless, it’s because your emotions play a role in your ability to be a good cop… but maybe you were never one of those, to begin with, like Tim said.

At least I won’t have to talk. Nolan can carry the conversation for both of us, you think.

“What’s up with Tim today?” Nolan asks.

“We’re not talking about Officer Bradford,” you reply quickly.

“Okay. Then what’s up with you? The donuts were nice, but I assume you had the time to get them for a reason.”

“Nolan, we’re not having this conversation,” you snap. “We’re cops, not friends.”

“Sounds like I’m with Bradford,” Nolan mumbles.

“You have no idea,” you reply.

Meanwhile, Tim and Lucy are stuck at the station doing paperwork. Today is slower, and there’s a lot to catch up on from the chaos yesterday. Lucy knows better than to pry after spending so much time with Tim, but she can see that something is weighing on him. More than whatever invisible burden he’s carrying, Tim is devastated. She has seen it before, briefly when one of Tim’s former partners passed away, but this is different.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lucy offers.

“No,” Tim replies immediately.

Lucy nods before her phone chimes. It only makes noise when another cop contacts her, and she rushes to read the message.

“Tim, Nolan said he needs us to meet them. He just said they’re trapped and it’s really dangerous,” she relays.

“Let’s go.”

Tim runs through the station to reach his shop, and his mind races with every step. Tim lost you last night, but he refuses to lose you forever. If – when you both get to the other side of this, Tim will give you the apology you deserve, he tells himself. And he will never be in this position again.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” Nolan asks over the nearby gunfire.

You’re a bad cop, Tim says in your mind.

“I- I don’t know what to do, Nolan,” you admit. “I can’t do this.”

Nolan’s eyes widen. He knew you were acting differently, but your sudden and complete lack of confidence shocks him. Both of you are pinned in the corner of a warehouse, in danger of being tortured, executed, or some sick combination of worse things. You know you need to act, but your pride and your abilities are shot, thanks to Tim. You’ll be lucky if you don’t get shot, too.

“You can do this,” Nolan assures you. “You have to. Whoever said-“

“Move!” you demand.

Nolan ducks, and you fire through a nearby doorway. It draws attention to you and Nolan, and your confidence takes another hit as three men aim rifles at your chest. The red dots form a perfect triangle around your heart. Things could have been so different if you had just gone home last night instead of giving into your never-ending craving for Tim’s comfort.

“Tim,” Angela calls when he and Lucy arrive. “You don’t want to go in there.”

“Yes, I do,” he replies.

She pushes a hand against his chest and shakes her head. Despite Tim’s grumbling, he trusts Angela as a friend and a fellow cop.

“What happened?” he asks softly.

Angela looks to her right, and Tim follows her line of sight. Your shop is standing wide open as CSU combs through it. The windshield is shattered, and the interior is riddled with bullet holes. Tim’s attention catches on the blood coating everything. No one could have survived that blood loss.

“Where is she?” Tim demands.

“We don’t know,” Angela admits. “She wasn’t here when we arrived. Neither was Nolan.”

“Let me help.”

Angela looks around before she whispers, “You’re too emotional.”

“She left me last night, Angela. It was all my fault, and I didn’t even get to apologize! So, I am helping, whether you want it or not.”

Angela nods as Lucy returns to Tim’s side. He looks back to your shop and knows. He knows he is too late. That realization changes everything.

“You’re right,” he tells Angela. “I’m too close; I shouldn’t help.”

“Timothy,” she begins.

“No, I- she’s gone. We both know that. And I can’t do this, not knowing that she died out here thinking that I didn’t love her. That I didn’t fight for her.”

“Let me know if that changes, Tim.”

Angela walks away to continue investigating the scene. Lucy lays her hand on Tim’s back to provide some comfort, but he shakes her hand off before he moves toward the shop. Crime doesn’t stop just because Tim’s world ends, and if throwing himself into his work will distract him, he’ll let it. But being busy and tired will never get between you and him again.

“Snipers,” Lucy whispers as she reads something on her phone.

“What about them?” Tim inquires.

“Oh, uh, just something Angela sent me.”

“About her?”

“Yeah.”

Tim nods, and his knuckles grow white as he grips the steering wheel. “There were snipers?”

“Three of them, from what they can tell. A gun left behind matched the ballistics of the bullets in her shop. It seems like… like someone was executed in her shop.”

“Let’s take another call, Chen.”

Lucy nods and requests dispatch to begin sending them calls again. The first is a bank robbery in process, and Tim only hopes that adrenaline and devastation mix well.

“Gun!” Lucy yells before ducking behind the armored personnel carrier outside the bank.

Tim doesn’t hesitate to raise his arms and shoot. The sniper falls backward, and Tim wills his mind not to wonder how different things would be if he’d been with you instead of Nolan. Snipers took you from him, but this taste of retribution doesn’t help Tim. He walks away as soon as the bank is cleared. He wants to punch something, yell, cry, and maybe do it all at once, but it won’t bring you back. Nothing short of an apology that he can’t give will.

Tim sits on his couch in the dark because it’s as close to peace as he can get. If he closes his eyes too long, he sees you standing on the other side of the room, defending yourself from his emotional outburst. The argument was pointless, and you wanted to stop it, but Tim kept pushing. The more he thinks about it, the more he starts to turn his sadness into self-hatred because he acted like his father. He drops his head into his hands and asks himself why he allowed himself to be driven so far. Despite how he treated you and the horrible, untrue things he said, you told Tim you loved him. He loves you more than anything but didn’t return the sentiment in the heat of the moment. And now he never can.

“I love you,” Tim whispers now. “I’m so sorry.”

Someone knocks on his door, fast raps with no break between them. Tim rubs his face as he stands and walks around the couch-turned-fighting ring to answer it.

“Tim,” Angela says quickly. “We found something. We know where they were an hour ago.”

Tim looks over his shoulder to the cruiser at the end of his driveway. The lights are on, and Nyla is inside, ready to go.

“I wanted to extend the invite,” Angela adds.

Tim nods as he yanks his keys from the table by his door. He doesn’t bother to check if the door locks behind him as he races toward the car, toward you. Nyla drives quickly and parks outside an abandoned house less than fifteen minutes later. While Tim looks at the house, he sees someone move in the window.

“Somebody’s inside,” he alerts.

Nyla nods and instructs Tim to wait while she and Angela approach the house. Before they exit the car, the person walks out of the front door with their hands up. Tim throws the door open and sprints across the yard before anyone says anything.

“Nolan,” he calls.

“What happened here?” Nyla asks.

Her tone makes Tim look around, and he counts at least eight bodies in the front yard. Most are covered, and the desperation, dread, misery, and heartbreak churn in his stomach as he wonders if any of them are you.

“We walked into an ambush. She got one of them down, but we were cornered, surrounded. They dragged their ‘failure’ to the shop and finished him off before they brought us here.” After he explains, Nolan turns to Tim and says, “She asked me to give you this.”

He pulls a bloody piece of paper from his pocket and passes it to Tim, who accepts it wordlessly.

“Where…” is she? Tim wants to say, but he can’t finish the question.

“Uh, she’s inside,” Nolan answers.

Tim hears confirmation that you’re here and runs through the carnage-covered yard and house to find you. He grips the letter tightly as he navigates through the dark house. Tim stops when he sees your badge lying in a corner, and squats to retrieve it. It’s scuffed and bloody, but Tim can’t leave any piece of you behind. He tucks your letter into his pocket to hold your badge.

“Officer Bradford?”

Tim turns quickly and nearly trips over a bloody hammer. He would recognize that voice anywhere. When his eyes finish adjusting in the darkness, and he sees you slumped in the opposite corner, propped up behind the door, he crosses the room in the time it takes you to blink. Tim’s hands cup your face gently as he leans closer to you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Save it,” you reply. “This isn’t over yet. He said he was coming back.”

“Where’d he go?” Tim asks, effortlessly switching back to cop mode.

You smile, and Tim swallows harshly as your injured lip splits and produces a fresh bead of blood. “To rob a bank. As if you weren’t busy enough, right?”

The sniper at the bank, Tim remembers. “He’s gone,” he says quickly. “We got him.”

“You got him?” you clarify.

Tim shakes his head, and you raise your hands to his sides as you lean toward him.

“I could never do this alone. I can’t do any of this without you.”

“Did you read my letter?”

Tim pulls the paper from his back pocket and shakes his head as he reads the two short sentences.

“I forgive you. I love you,” you say as Tim reads the same words.

“It won’t happen again,” Tim promises.

“It might. We have hard jobs, but we can get through it. Right?”

Tim’s reply is a careful kiss to your forehead before he yells for a paramedic. Nolan leads Angela and Nyla inside a moment later, and they enter the door beside you.

“You could’ve mentioned she was alive,” Tim tells Nolan.

“You ran in before I said, ‘she’d like to see your face first, considering she almost died and you were the only thing she talked about,’” Nolan answers.

“Shut up,” you and Tim say together.

“This is the thanks,” Nolan mumbles.

“Can I crash at your place?” you ask Tim. “Without the argument?”

“Wouldn’t let you go anywhere else. The best cop I know deserves some comfort.”

“I thought I was the best cop you knew,” Angela teases.

“I love you,” you tell Tim.

“I love you,” he answers. After he looks into your eyes and smiles, he yells, “Where is the ambulance?”

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Costume Meta 7x06

Me on holiday trying to write a costume meta - yeah probably gonna keep this one shortish because - you know - on holiday!!!

We have plenty to get through this episode an dI had zero Idea how to set this one out because its kinda immpossible!

So in the end I just decided to go with the flow and therefore this is probably a bit all over the place in terms of organisation!

Chimney

Ok so Chimney exclusively wears check for this episode, apart from his hospital gown, which I'm not going to talk about as its a hosptial gown!

Chimneys first shirt is a grey and white rectangle gingham we see him in when he is having dinner with the Lee's to remember Kevin.

Grey is a neutral colour and can be linked with feelings of depression and compromise. These are key indicators of what is going on with Chim in this scene - he isn't depressed, but his spirits are clearly depressed (as in mute) and this should be seen as an alarm bell for Chimney - he who is forever optimistic - its all adding to the arc of Chimney not being himself - of something being wrong with him.

His second shirt is this cream with a double blue check pattern - the increased amount of check plays into his encephalitic deterioration - showing he is becoming increasingly confused/delirious etc - the check patterning ins far more obvious and distinctive, unlike the grey gingham from earlier - which kind of blurs out to look more overall grey even if you can still see its a check pattern.

Doug

Not going to dwell on Doug for long, but I do want to mention the fact that they put him in the very same costumes he was wearing in season 2. This triggers visual memories for audience members who have been watching the show from the beginning (or have watched those earlier episodes recently) because even if you don't quite connect the dots on why, you automatically know that this is a hallucination and not reality - the other visuals (such as him being there then not) add to this understanding, but it is the costumes that connect the Doug we're watching here and the Doug from the past.

Maddie

Gonna go in reverse with Maddie's costumes! here we have her in Chims hospital room, wearing a very similar outfit to the one she worse in his hospital room back in season 2 in the aftermath of Doug, the blue is now navy rather than the grey/blue of the earlier one, but that plays into the idea of a deeper relationship - they were just at the begining back in season 2 - the grey played into Maddie providing a soothing and relaxing presence for Chim, while the undetone of blue played into the growing trust and loyalty they shared. Now the navy blue is showing the strength of that trust and loyalty, while also hinting at Maddie feeling in a darkish place - her fear at losing the love of her life.

Maddies wedding dress - it’s a stunning dress and I love that it’s not all white - it’s a mix of white tulle and champagne embroidered lace. The dress having chapagne embroidered lace is really lovely - the golden brownish yellow tones of champagne as a colour in colour theory are emblematic of a driven and powerful personality (which we see displayed very clearly in this episode) as well as of modesty, excitement and fun.

When I first saw it, not going to lie, I had mixed feelings about it - but I think most of my issues with the dress stem from the fact it’s not especially well fitted to Jennifer - not sure if it’s because they rented it rather than buying outright so couldn’t alter it or if there are other factors at play, but that aside it’s a really great dress and very Maddie. 

It makes sense that she would actually choose to go all out for the wedding - to overwrite all the memories of her wedding to Doug - this wedding is the one she wants to remember - the one she’ll look back on in the years to come, so for her to get to pick out a grand dress (especially as she likely didn’t get any choice in her previous dress) 

Beyond that there’s not a lot I can say from a costume and colour perspective - it’s a wedding dress doing wedding dress things!!

Hen

Hen is in a black suit for her role as best woman, its full of Hens personality, whilst being subtle and fitting for a wedding - there really isn't a lot to say about it from a colour perspective, or from a design perspective - its doing everything it need to perfectly (it is also stunning and I would very much like to own it), not making Hen the centre of attention, whilst also ensuring we're aware of her importance within the wedding party.

Then we have Bachelor party Hen, who is definetley rocking more of a 70's vibe in those jeans (which I also love and want please!!) and shirt and Karen is definetely more 90's vibes in the black and gold Chinese suit.

THis is really intentional - we have the context of Chim not being into having a bachelor party (which we know he would've actually loved and enjoyed had his brain not been being eat by a viral infection) and so every one else not being in costume except Eddie and Buck is very much about them feeding off the vibes Chim had been giving - they've made an effort to get dressed up, but they haven't gone with the theming.

Chris

Chirs is wearing a surf shirt - it's by Quicksilver and I've included a better picture of the pattern below, because what you can't see with the filter on the camera is that the little logos on the shirt are in both blue and green. They're all symbols associated with surf and water.

So the water theming around Christopher (and Buck and Eddie) continues and we have the added fact that blue green theory is in play here as well - and it was in play a lot throughout the episode in relation to Buck and Eddie.

Tommy

Only one brief costume to look at for Tommy in this episode and its very much continuing the theming we've seen on him this entire season. We continue to see him in a Henley and jeans. This one is navy blue.

Choices were definitely made when it came to this outfit and the fact he hasn't chosen to dress up in any way - its part of the wider arc at play in this season (for all characters, not just Buck or Eddie - its the seasons theme - which is fitting considering we've moved to a new network and its a way of establishing/re-establishing the characters, their motivations and their interpersonal relationships) that Tommy doesn't know Buck - its not only highlighting the difference between Buck and Eddie and Buck and Tommy, but also calling back to the literal episode titled 'you don't know me' and emphasising that tommy doesn't know Buck and his quirks at this point (this is not Tommy bashing before anyone comes for me - I like Tommy and I wouldn't expect him to know that Buck gets super invested in things in this way at this point I am merely pointing out that the costume is highlighting the newness of their relationship).

Bobby and Athena

Bobby and Athena are exclusively in blue and green this episode - we have the brighter jewel toned blue suit and emerald green dress of the wedding which are switched out for the more muted navy polo and khaki green jacket when the search for Chim gets underway.

The brighter colours are much more hopeful and cheerful - the bright blue of Bobbys suit with the meaning of trust and loyalty it is a supportive shade, meanwhile the green of Athena’s dress symbolises growth and health and luck.

The more muted tones of the search play into their respective roles - Bobby becomes a fire captain just without the logo - it gives him the air of authority, while remaining supportive and dependable. Meanwhile Athena’s khaki green - a very typical shade plays into her position as a police officer - she is prepared to fight to figure out what happened to Chim - it’s an echo of the outfit she wore when investigating Eddie’s shooting back in season 4 - a key parallel considering we get a lot of other costume parallels this episode!

Buck and Eddie

Again we're doing these two back to front, - the above picture shows them during the search for Chim and we have the very loud and obvious green and blue pairing in parallel to Bobby and Athena. its setting them up as a unit.

I am still not over getting Buck in jeans - I probably won't be for a while, so get used to me screaming about them at every opportunity - because they have played a blinder with them - the fact that we get Buck in jeans here, along with his white trainers

The other thing that I love about these two costumes is the way they both play into their respective costume styles. We've only seen Eddie in his army geen colourway once so far this season when he found out Chris was seeing multiple girls, and this is the first Henley we have him in - when he is normally king of the Henleys - this indicates where Eddie is at - ready to go to war for his found family, in the same way Athena is, but also that this is a comfortable state for him.

Bucks bright cobalt blue plays into his blue theme thats been building over the last season and a half - its telling us he's in a good place, more settled (in relation to Tommy not Chim being missing!) and its an indicator of his loyalty and trust, but the main thing about cobalt blue specifically is that its considered a colour of enlightenment - so continues the theme of Bucks bi awakening being about him becoming enlightened!

Buck and Eddie being the only ones to have got dressed up to the 80's theme is all about showing them as a solid unit - they will feed off each others energy regardless of what it is. this is them being best friends best friending and being completely oblivious to everyone else - especially Chim's lack of enthusiasm.

The pink on Eddie plays two fold - it plays into the innocence and naivety theme the costumes are giving us this season - slotting Eddie into that narrative more firmly than just having Marisol wear it in episode 1 - it ensures that theme continues past the intial reveal that she was a novice nun - this is important because it reminds the audience subconsciously about that plotline. I don't expect to see him in any more pink this season, but I have a feeling we might see Marisol in more pink down the line as their arc unfolds.

I am interested to see how it plays into the guilt aspect though - the pink we've seen on other characters in other plots have revolved around feeling guilty - Lola being in pink when her cheating on Norman is revealed, and his innocence in it all as that plot is playing out having him also in pink. It suggests to me that we're going to get something relating to guilt - beyond catholic guilt - sitting pretty heavily in Eddies arc for the rest of the season!

(popping back in to finish this meta and now I'm screaming at myself for not connecting more dots earlier - I was so so close to connecting the mall - so close!!)

So we have buck back in white - a key indicator that things are going to go wrong - mirroring all the other times Buck has worn white and either ended up in the middle of a disaster (tsunami!) or in some kind of trouble. The trouble here is obviously that Chim didn’t turn up for his bachelor party and has gone missing. It’s an indicator of the seriousness of the situation because Buck doesn’t wear white when it’s a trivial thing going wrong.

Then we have his greenish beige double breasted blazer - I have spent so long trying to figure out what colour this jacket is supposed to be and I’ve decided to trend towards beige with a green undertone. Beige is considered a trendy colour and is therefore its meaning suggests forward thinking and fashionable (don’t ask me why I have zero idea!!) the irony of buck being in beige is that it’s also considered the antithesis of intoxicating, The green undertone has the same vibe as the green shirt he wore to donate his sperm - and so there is a similar vibe going on here - that idea that things are going to go very awry, but will untimately end in sucess!

I've included a couple of stills below of Crocket and Tubbs - just so you can see how perfectly the wardrobe team managed to create the vibe of them - as the same time as making both of them both Crocket and Tubbs - because they have elements of each of them in their costumes - which is just genius!!

one final little nod to a fun thing the costume team have done - calling back to Bucks Coma dream costume - when he was a teacher - like his parents - by dressing Margaret in a blue version of the same outfit!!

Sorry this was so late and not as in depth as some of my other meta's - but I got there in the end and I hope you enjoy it!!

Off to write 7x07's meta now!!

Tagged people below!

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @bewilderedbuckley @spotsandsocks

@bewitchedbewilderedbisexual @rogerzsteven @wanderingwomanwondering @oneawkwardcookie @leothil @copyninjabuckley @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @katyobsesses @radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @bi-moonlight @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sherlocking-out-loud @satashiiwrites @lover-of-mine @yramesoruniverse @extasiswings @favouritealias @pop-kam @b-dwolf

[cellophaine]

Sad Girl (Part III)

Read Part I, Part II

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: Sappy confession. Happy ending.

Author's Note: I'm alive.

GIF Credit

As you joined the street-level crowd from the subway, you pulled your scarf higher as the bitter wind swept over your face. You quickened your pace in the hope of getting out of the cold sooner as if you could catch up with the darkening sky. The interview had taken longer than you anticipated, and you still had to write up the report and have it on your boss' desk by 9 AM the next morning. He had been a thorn in your side, consistently pushing your buttons. He always insisted on having paper copies of every report. "It makes your report more meaningful," he said, "otherwise you're just repeating someone else's words." It took all the professionalism in you not to reach across his cluttered desk and slap him then.

By the time you reached the office, the sky had dulled into a dark grey, and the lamp posts cast their warm glow onto the street. You said goodnight to the exiting coworkers and rushed through the doors to see that Gwen, the receptionist, was leaving, too. She called out to you as you walked past the reception.

"Hey! There's something for you on your desk."

You nodded.

"Thank you."

"Doesn't say who it's from though."

You thought for a moment; a small smile crept onto the corner of your lips.

"I think I might have an idea."

Gwen gave you an understanding look and headed out. You approached your cubby in anticipation and were greeted with a sweet floral smell emanating from the bouquet that sat next to your keyboard. You took it in your hand and marvelled. It was a peculiar combination, one you couldn't really find at flower shops, held together by a simple ribbon of blue cloth. No crinkly wrapping paper. The light shade of blue hyacinth went so well with the bluebells, coupled with orange peonies and a single olive branch, which created a harmony pleasing to the eyes and nose. The piece of paper nestled in the bouquet only indicated your name in a neat font, but other than that, nothing. Still, it brought a smile to your face, a speck of joy on an arduous day. You pulled out your phone and typed out a quick text before sending it off.

Thank you for the flowers. They're beautiful.

You still had a soft smile on your face by the time you got ready to write the report. Your phone vibrated, signaling a text message.

What flowers?

Your brows scrunched together in puzzlement. You took a photo and sent it off. Not a minute later, you got a response.

Wasn't from me.

A slight hollowness carved itself into your throat. You texted back.

Oh. Are you sure?

The response came quickly.

Dead serious. You might have a secret admirer ;)

Never mind then.

You set your phone down only to have the phone vibrate again.

Wannna go out tonight? Me and my buddies are going to this new club on Fifth Ave.

You sighed, dreading the idea of having to stay at work late. But you didn't like the sound of going out either.

I'm alright. Just a little tired tonight. Have fun though!

The read receipt and a heart popped up on your last message. That was it. You turned your phone to silent mode before opening a new document; your recorder and notepad were ready by your side.

By the time your report was put on your boss' desk, it was already 9:30. You exhaled heavily, feeling the weight on your shoulders chip away. You took the flowers with you and nodded to the security guard on your way out. It was late, and you didn't feel like cooking, so you made a detour to the soup and sandwich shop around the corner and placed an order. You sat down on the bench by the window, allowing the gush of heat from the radiator to warm your legs. There was music coming from across the narrow street; its volume changed as people filtered in and out. People were smoking outside, chatting animatedly with one another. It stirred something in you. You worked late on a Thursday night, getting takeout by yourself because you couldn't even fathom the thought of whipping up a simple meal. You opened your last message with Andy, wondering if it was too late to change your mind.

You met Andy through Mindy when her workplace went out for happy hour. It was just shy of two weeks after you cut things off with Matt. He was a nice, easy-going guy who tried to include you in conversations throughout the night. Mindy's forms of suggestion came in the subtle look of her eyes, the slight inclines of her head, and often, a jab of her elbow. It annoyed you how much she tried to look out for you even though you didn't need her help, but at the end of the night, the triumphant was hers. Andy asked for your number, and you agreed out of an obligation you felt for Mindy's relentless effort for you to move on. It had been two months since the first date, with many dates between then and now, and all you could say about it could be summed up in one word: fine. You didn't feel a spark. Andy could be charming at times, funny, and generous. You liked him, but your heart didn't beat wildly for him. He wasn't anything like Matt. Andy was the one you should want.

So why did you still feel a sense of hesitation?

You looked at the bouquet, your curiosity piqued. Taking out your phone, you typed in the flower combination laid on the narrow counter. Scrolling through the array of articles, you noticed the keywords they shared in common.

Apology. Ask for forgiveness. Wrongdoings.

You read and read, and the realization seeped in. The clarification didn't give you any relief, only mild irritation. Matt fucking Murdock. Who gave him the right to remind you of his presence when it still lingered around? It was an undeniable indication of how much you were still so helplessly captivated by your history with him, thinking about him like he was an old wound that ached every now and then to remind you that you had always had it and that you could never be rid of it. Memories of Matt, just like the pain, were a part of you now, and you couldn't bury them or try to forget them. You had to live with them, and hopefully, when it was finally enough time had passed, you could look back at the memories with fondness, a sweet bitterness over someone you couldn't have, but you had long accepted the fact.

For the moment, the fondness was replaced by irritation. With dinner in your hand, you walked out of the door, leaving the bouquet in the trash can of the quaint restaurant.

Over the next six months, so much changed, but the one constant thing that did not was Matt's attempts to reach you and still give you the distance you needed. Once a week, on the same day, a bouquet of flowers was delivered to your desk. They never included the sender, only the recipient, and always had the same connotation.

I'm sorry.

You had to admit it was sweet. It also earned you looks of admiration and teasing from your coworkers, who were cooing over the fact that your boyfriend was such a sweetheart. For the few times someone mentioned it, you had to clarify. Andy wasn't your boyfriend anymore, and he hadn't been for the last two months.

When you broke up with Andy, it came as a surprise to him. He thought everything was going well, but your perception of the relationship was the opposite. You weren't into him; you were into the idea of having him as a placeholder for Matt. It was the cruel truth. Being with Andy didn't make you happy, and you doubted it would be any different if you were with someone else. You wanted more. You wanted the thing that you couldn't have with Matt, and at this point, you had settled for the fact that it would never be yours. But for now, you were okay with being by yourself. You wanted to be alone in your own existence and accepted the fact that when the right time came, it would come with the right person. For the first time in a long time, you felt the burden that clouded your head fall away like a crumbling infrastructure.

You quit your job despite your boss's pathetic attempts to stop you from leaving, promising you a promotion that would make you his right-hand woman. It was more work for just a little more money, and it wasn't worth it. To your luck, shortly after leaving the newspaper, you got hired as a junior staff writer for an independent publishing house. You still got to enjoy parts of the work you liked before, with better pay and a more relaxed schedule. You had more time to enjoy what you couldn't before.

Gwen still kept in touch with you, telling you about the bouquet of flowers showing up a few days after you left. And then, after that week, none at all. You figured Matt had a way of finding out about your new workplace since, shortly after the change, new bouquets were delivered to your desk promptly as if nothing had changed only except for the fact that you stopped throwing them away. You had started to enjoy them. Who knew there were so many ways to apologize to someone with flowers?

You thought you would cross paths with him eventually, but you didn't know it would be a peculiar chance encounter like this.

The gloomy sky haunted the skyline of New York City all day, teasing with little drops here and there. The air was heavy, as if it was holding itself in anticipation of a great storm. You prayed it wouldn't rain before you got home, but as you were halfway there, the sky parted, and the downpour was vicious. You couldn't see too far in front of you, and out of desperation, you ran up the stairs of the nearest shelter. You stood awkwardly on the small porch of the building as heavy droplets railed on the pavement in a frantic rhythm. You leaned a shoulder on the wall, exhausted and drenched, looking helplessly out into the downpour that showed no sign of stopping soon. Water dripped from your lashes, and with each blink, you saw a moving silhouette formed in the misty veil. Your heart beat faster and faster as the silhouette approached until he became someone you knew too well. Emerged from the rain was Matt, his breathing heavy, but you doubted it was from running from the rain, for his footsteps slowed, hesitant as he sensed that the porch he was approaching wasn't vacant. And the space was occupied by none other than the woman that haunted his fitful sleep and waking daydreams.

For a long moment, you could only stare. The water clung to him like how every piece of your existence that used to long for his approval and touch did. And Matt seemed to do the same thing. You couldn't bring yourself to break the silence. Your eyes were wide open as if you were afraid his presence was only something your mind made up. That he wasn't real. And just like that, you were starstruck again. Just like the first time you saw him after you realized that you loved him. In the gradual slip of the initial shock, you took in the newness in his familiar appearance. His hair was a little longer than when you saw him last, prompting the little curls at the nape of his neck. His dripping briefcase did its best to shield his face from the rain, but you could see the strays followed the slopes and rises of his handsome features. His lips parted, pulling in a deep, slow inhale. He looked like a man who was in disbelief, and truth be told, you felt the same way. Only now did you realize how much you'd missed him.

"What are you doing here?"

You croaked and cleared your throat when you realized your voice was barely a notch above a whisper. Matt shook himself out of the trance, clearing his throat.

"This is, uhm– my office."

"Oh!"

In a fit of panic, you didn't realize that it was the Nelson, Murdock and Page office. What kind of cruelty had fate forced upon you? You sighed, an apology on your lips as you put your bag above your head.

"I'm so sorry, I will go–"

Before you could launch yourself into the pouring rain, Matt stopped you with a hand on your elbow.

"No, please. Stay."

And because he knew you so well, he could sense your hesitation.

"You can get warm upstairs and wait until it's better out there."

You watched the way the tips of his ears had turned into a darker shade of pink. This anticipation reminded you of the time when, with just a look, you knew you had fallen for him. You swallowed and managed to croak a soft "okay." Matt nodded, a little breathless himself, as if he was relieved that you agreed to stay. He pulled out the key and unlocked the door before holding it open for you to step inside. You walked the stairs, remembering the last time you were here. Your heart was in fragments, barely held together by your nerves, by the time you reached the final steps.

You roamed your eyes around the office as Matt turned on the old heater along the wall. It looked about the same, but now there was a monstera adding a touch of green to the space. You shrugged off your damp coat, and Matt took it out of your hands. The gesture felt so natural, you thought to yourself as you watched him hang the coat next to his by the door. He had stripped down to a simple white dress shirt and black slack, and you averted your eyes at the sight of his torso visible under the wet shirt as if you hadn't seen him naked before. He threw his tie on the desk and came out of his office with a throw blanket. He held it out until you took it. It looked handmade and felt soft to the touch. Matt pulled a chair out for you in front of the heater. You thanked him and put your bag by your feet after taking the seat. A brief moment of silence followed, and Matt immediately assumed his position as the gracious host.

"Do you want some tea? We have the kind that … that you like."

A shiver ran through you. A cup of tea didn't sound too bad.

"Please. If you don't mind."

He waved his hand dismissively and walked towards the kitchen. You listened to the sound of him rummaging around in the small room. Feeling awkward just sitting there and not being useful, you called out.

"Do you need some help?"

"I got it. You stay warm."

You settled against the chair, wrapping yourself in the blanket. Feeling the gentle and warm brush of the radiator on your legs, you shivered slightly. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you tried to calm yourself down by focusing on the monstera leaves instead of the presence of the man who once broke your heart.

Matt came back to the room with a steaming mug, and you took it gratefully. It looked like he didn't make any for himself. You took a sip, allowing the tea to burn your tongue.

"How have you been?"

His question knocked at the mutual understanding of your situation. You weren't exactly friends, and you were long past the point of lovers. But it didn't have to be awkward. With so much history between you, all the memories twisted and turned and took off, swirling furiously like the storm outside. But there was a blessing in it. The storm was out of your reach, and right here, right now, you were safe. The person who lapped up crumbs of attention from the man who never explicitly gave them was a part of you. But not anymore. You could start fresh.

"I'm fine. I figured you knew about my new job?"

Matt dipped his head sheepishly as if to hide his expression of being caught.

"I did. Are you enjoying it?"

"I am. It's a lot less stressful when I don't have to answer my boss' unreasonable demands. I get more freedom in what I do. The pay is much better, too."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I'm glad. It seemed like you had a bad time at the newspaper."

"Yeah, I did."

You nodded, feeling a brief wash of melancholy at the mention of your old job.

"I know the flowers come from you."

There was no point in avoiding the subject. Your heart was on the verge of exploding, but you had to. You both knew it was coming.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for overstepping. Just say the word, and I'll stop any kind of contact with you."

When you didn't respond, he continued with his face angled towards you. The window behind him cast sharp shadows on his face, and from this point of view, you could see the agony on his face.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I just … I had to try to show how sorry I was. How sorry I still am."

"I know."

You sighed.

"As much as I would like to blame it all on you, it was on me as well."

At that, Matt sat up straighter and protested.

"That's not true–"

Your hand sprung out to hold his hand, keeping him there. Matt stilled as if your touch had paralyzed him.

"Please, listen to me."

You went on despite the slight shake in your voice.

"I let my expectations run wild even though we were clear from the start. It was a mutual benefit arrangement."

His other hand came to rest on top of yours. Warmth seeped from the palms of his hands, and you wished you were enveloped in his embrace instead.

"I stepped over the line myself. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me. I gave you mixed signals and lied to you about my own feelings."

You inhaled deeply. 

"What feelings?"

"I really thought it was better to keep you at arm's length and not let myself … feel things for you, but I did anyway. I should have been honest with you. But I thought I wasn't deserving of someone like you."

Your heart rattled in the cage that was your chest.

"What are you saying, Matt?"

A sorrowful relief caressed his face.

"I love you. I regret not saying that to you every day we were apart."

You felt as if all the air was pulled out of your lungs.

"Don't lie to me, please. I don't want you to just– just say what I want to hear. I'd rather never have you than to have you unwillingly."

Matt placed your hand on his heart, letting you feel the rhythm underneath your palm. Erratic, wild and uncontrollable, just like yours.

"I only want you. I think about you all the time. I'm miserable when you're not around."

"I don't know what to say …"

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it with a tenderness you had missed dearly.

"That's okay. Take your time. I'll wait for you as long as you need."

He paused briefly, then continued as if it took great strength for him to utter the words.

"Even if you no longer feel the same, it's okay, too."

You couldn't conceal the wide smile in your voice.

"I mean, telling a girl that you love her before going on a first date with her? Mindy wouldn't like that."

Matt chuckled, the sound warm like the honey he put in your tea.

"Was Mindy the one …?"

"Yup. She doesn't like you at all."

"I deserve that."

You caressed his face, feeling the stubble along his jawline. There was a feeling you thought you would never get again, but now, you were basking in its glow.

"Can we … can we take it slow?"

His lips found the palm of your hand, kissing it tenderly.

"Of course. Anything you want."

*Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!* Follow my side blog to receive notifications whenever I post! @cellophaine-archives

Taglist for this specific fic: @nyutasgirl @havlindzk @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @carstairswife

[kellyvela]

"Riding through the rainy night, Ned saw Jon Snow's face in front of him, so like a younger version of his own."- Ned(AGOT)

"Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that."- Cat(ACOK)

Cat and Ned calling Jonsa looking similar to them.

Yes, this subject is well known and discussed in the fandom. But also, both Sansa and Jon's first crush/lover look similar to Cat & Ned.

Ygritte with her orange hair and blue eyes is a downgraded version of Catelyn (and Sansa), Jon himself called Ygritte ugly at first.

Waymar with his dark hair, grey eyes and lean figure is an upgraded version of plain Ned (and Jon).

[suratan-zir]

You know how they say that cats in the house keep mice away? It's also believed that mice will not settle in a house where rats live.

Welp, guess what. We have two cats, rats and a dog in the house. We also live on the second floor. And we have a mouse living in our kitchen wall. Assuming it's only one mouse, which is unlikely, I know.

I named the mouse Gronk. Gronk loves living on the edge. They made a hole in the wall directly by the cat's food bowl. I observed how Gronk came out of the hole, went to the bowl, most likely took some food and calmly returned to back the hole. He (she?) is beautiful, grey and tiny. If you know anything about me, I have an unhealthy obsession with rodents. My poor heart could barely handle the cuteness.

The problem is - our cat discovered Gronk first. He now knows there's mice and from time to time tries to find them. I don't want him to injure Gronk and leave him to die a painful death. We ordered some humane traps, but it will take days to get here. We used to have one, but I gave it to Savita… After that, every day she would send me photos of the mice caught in the house she was staying, untill the mice infestation on the frontlines became so bad that she got sick of trying to save them.

Anyway. I tried setting up a trap with a bucket and peanut butter. But Gronk is smarter than that. Hopefully Gronk doesn't give birth to twenty more baby Gronks in our walls while we wait for those traps…

[floylia]

ELYSIAN ♫

09. Hurt to try

Visiting has never felt more invasive.

A large screen rested in the middle. Two massive, black speakers sat on each side of his desk with a small piano perched on top. A white shelf filled with trinkets and golden awards stood beside his stand-up microphone. An array of purple and silver acoustic panels hung around the wall, and you can’t forget the line of guitars laying in a fashionable order.

“Your studio is cleaner than I thought,” you whispered in awe, eyes bouncing around the small room.

Scara scoffed as he dropped his belongings on the grey sofa near the door, “What did you take me for?”

“A gremlin who never leaves his cave filled with chip wrappers and empty cans of energy drinks,” you shrugged, eyes still wandering.

He rolled his eyes and headed to his desk to start his computer up, “Don’t compare me to Aether.”

“You’re lucky he’s not here.”

“What’s his short ass going to do?”

“You’re the same height.”

“Allegedly,” Scara stood from his seat, urging you to take his spot, “I’ll find another chair, you can sit in mine or look around–I might take a while.”

You went to his shelves. You saw a picture of him when he was younger, wearing a volleyball jersey and holding a trophy with his teamates, one of them you recognized—Childe—they must have been childhood friends.

Then you saw another picture, one with his family. It was his highschool graduation, wearing a cap and gown with a stash that boldly displayed “validictorian,” – his mother, Ei, stood on his left, radiating an elegant smile, while his aunt, Nahida, stood on his right, pinching his cheeks with a mischievous grin. They must have been proud of him.

The next one was 5WIRL’s first concert. They were all young, bright with aspirations, beaming at the large crowd despite being rookies. Beside it, you saw a small octopus plush–Marlin–next to a polaroid picture with you two–a photo you’ve never seen before. You snapped a picture of it.

“[name]—” Scara entered with the chair.

You placed the picture down and trailed him.

“Are those all your songs?” you pointed at the screen.

He shook his head, “There’s more I’d like to do, but I want you to listen to this one.”

He passed you the headphones.

You wore it, “What is it called?”

“Bewitched.”

The song started out slow with a piano. His voice was smooth—different from his usually raspy voice. You took everything in—the lyrics, the melody, and piano. His stare was intense, observing every bit of your reaction.

“Did you like it?” He asked.

You grinned at his expectant face, “I love it, are you adding this? I’d be a crime not to.”

“I was planning on making it my title track,” he paused, “And if you agreed before, I wanted you to finish the second verse.”

“Oh.” It’d be a shame…

“Yeah.”

You stared at the giant screen, “…Can I see the lyrics?”

He flipped through his notebook, you see glances of his other works, scribbles of words and phrases only his brain could think of–one of the many reasons why you admire him.

He gave you the page, “It's a work in progress, but that’s the draft.”

“Can I try?”

Kunikuzushi smiled, “Of course.”

notes:

i lied im more excited for the next chapter (had to break this scene in two)

im on a roll with these updates and then ill ghost again idk jk

synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go through an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo career. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader

masterlist | previous | next

Taglist (open!): @aruatsu @magicalink @featuredtofu @scarasbaby @veekoko @scaranthropy @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @vernith @thystarsshine @lily-lmao @lovemari @mellowberrie @kunikuzushis-darling @skyoverkill1 @alatusorrow @kukikoooo @kyon-cherri @keiiqq @tzuw1ce @xiaossocksniffer @kaitfae @infinitetrashbag @lvnalxve @lovelypadisarah @ulquiorraswife @sketcheeee @atyour-kitchencounter @pirate-of-the-dark-seas @neiiuna @sn1perz @kazioli @inelenastyle @hearts4shu @wisheslost @Kazeyozuha @kazumiku @eutopiastar @chemiru @bananasquash @mujiwuji @danhenglovebot @chocolatesandvanilla @boomie-123 @kookiibun @help-whatdoimakemyusername @vavrin @beaniedoodz @misterpoofin @justpeachyteastea @one-and-only-tay @peaceindreams @strxwberryfetish @shutingstar @projectsfantasy @quacking-simp @morgyyyyyyy @cante-lope @k-cris

[imtryingbuck]

Prologue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Word count: 726

Warnings: angst? forced marriage. Bucky's dads the worst.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

Of course Bucky has thought about marriage, dreamt about coming home after a long day at work to his wife cooking dinner or happily playing with the kids, slow dancing with her throughout the house whilst the children are tucked in bed. Sharing his dreams, fears, stories and life with his other half, a wife who he can spoil with gifts and love.

A wife he can hold during the night.

Another dream he's always had, having children, he's not picky about the gender (not like he can control it) as long as they are healthy, and he's happy to have as many as his wife wants.

So yes Bucky has thought about marriage.

The dream of having a wife will be coming true sooner than he anticipated however being forced to marry a complete stranger is something he's very against, all he's ever wanted was to marry for love.

He's furious and feels betrayed by his father who just told him he has to marry one of the daughters of another mafia boss, that in marrying her it will secure an alliance.

Michael Murdock who's notoriously known for being ruthless and cunning. A man who happily gets his hands bloody, a man who rules his empire with an iron fist. From what Bucky knows of the man's family is that he has a wife Eliza and from what he's heard is that she's just as bad as her husband. They have two sons Brandon and Matt, and four daughters Carla, Olivia, Marie and Lucy.

Then there's Theodora, the daughter that he had with a mistress who died after the baby was born. However no one has ever seen her or even heard about her, most people think she's a myth. A story that gossipers had made up to keep people entertained.

The thought of being married to one of Michaels daughters made him feel physically sick. He had seen photos of them in magazines or on the internet of their latest trip to the plastic surgeon, or of their lifestyles.

Don't get him wrong he lives a lavish life but has never once flaunted it and he likes his women more natural.

The idea of being married into the Murdock family and having Michael as his father in law makes his skin crawl despite his father telling him that he'd always be protected.

Reluctantly getting into the car, muttering under his breath as he goes.

"James you need this, you've taken over the business now and you need a wife by your side. Stop acting like a child" his father George speaks from the other side of the Range Rover.

"I don't know her. She's not even going to want this."

"It doesn't matter what she wants son, you are the man of this marriage. Marry her, keep her wallet full, and have your mistresses and if she steps out of line just smack her back into place" he chuckles as he continues to text on his phone.

Instead of responding Bucky pushes himself further into the leather seat.

As the car pulls up to a huge manor that sits behind large steel fences, the double gates have an 'M' on each sides. Bucky notices that there are many high branded, expensive cars all lined neatly on the grey stone gravel. There's a marbled fountain in the middle that had neatly placed flowers circling around it.

The last time Bucky was nervous was when he was nineteen, it was he first official meeting he was holding on his own. No matter what situation he found himself in he was always calm and confident, but still sitting inside the warm, matte black Range Rover he's doing everything in his power not to be sick.

"Dad is this really necessary?" He tries, he knows it himself that it's pointless but he's still going to try.

"I swear you should have been born a girl with how much you bitch and moan."

"But dad this is my lif-"

"Stop crying it's your wedding day" George smiles sarcastically as the car comes to a stop in front of the many steps.

Bucky, his father and bodyguards are lead up the steps and into the high ceiling hallway, their greeted by Michael, who's standing there with a large grin on his aging face.

"Welcome to my home and family".

Next>

Tags: @sapphirebarnes