#and then bring back the other one as an announcer

[hxney-lemcn]

Time for a Break — Housewardens x gn! reader

summery: it's the end of the year and you have nowhere to go...

tw: slight angst (Riddle, Idia, Malleus)

wc: 1.7k (~230 per character)

Master List

With nonstop overblots, exams, homework, studying, and keeping your friends in line, you hadn’t even realized that the end of the year was approaching rapidly. You could barely take in your end of the year grades before coming face to face with the fact that you have nowhere to go while everyone gets a summer break. Didn’t you deserve a break too? You felt like you were going to collapse and evaporate if you didn’t sleep in a bed that doesn’t have lumps. In a fit of despair, you go to the only person you can think of.

Riddle Rosehearts

Okay…so you are not allowed to come home with him. His reason for saying no is vastly different from his mothers reason. He doesn’t want to cause you any more stress, or have to hear his mother’s insults that she’ll inevitably spout towards you. No, instead he helps you ask Trey. Although Trey’s home already is a full house, his family welcomes you with open arms. All his siblings overcrowd you (no matter how much Trey tries to stop them), his parents ask many questions to get to know you better, and you end up sharing a room with Trey. All the while, you can’t help but think about Riddle, wishing you could find a way to get him out of his own personal hell. Over time, you and Trey visit Riddle, your only meetings being through his window. Every so often you’d bring Riddle a sweet treat that you learned how to bake either from Trey or his parents. As much as you enjoy having a break with such a lovely family, you can’t help wanting for the next school year to happen. Not for the school work, or the overblots (hopefully there won’t be any the upcoming year), but because you’ll get to see Riddle again, not through a window or with hushed whispers. But in person, speaking to each other freely once more. 

Leona Kingscholar

When you hinted about not having anywhere to go, hoping that the lion would take the bait and let you stay with him, he just ignored you. Didn’t even pretend to act like he was listening to you. Squinting your eyes, you stood up from his bed, announcing that Malleus might be willing to take you in…you couldn’t get far before Leona grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him and holding you close. Who said you could go and stay with that overgrown lizard? Wasn’t it obvious you were staying with him? You were scared of meeting his family, they were royalty and Leona had spoken bad of them. You had met his nephew, and little did you know that the boy had talked his parents ear off about you and Leona for a day before finding a new topic. Leona’s brother and sister in law welcomed you to their palace with open arms, greeting you warmly before excusing themselves. It was a bit to get used to, trying new foods, sleeping in a bed that was way too luxurious, being treated like royalty, becoming a nanny…yeah. You now realized one of the reasons why Leona dreaded coming back. As much as you adored Cheka…he could be a bit much. Overall, it's not the worst place to stay, but it would feel a bit lonely without Leona or Cheka around. 

Azul Ashengrotto

Oh boy…were you both that far in your relationship already? No? He’s just overthinking it? Okay, this was fine. He was a host after all, and he did owe you for basically saving his life…and being the one he loved. His only problem? His mother. As much as Azul loved his mother…he could not have her sharing his baby photos with you. He’ll have to work overtime over the summer to make sure that doesn’t happen (who is he kidding he can’t say no to his mom). How are you going to stay entire months under water? Who do you think he is? He’s got stocks of underwater breathing potions. When you meet his parents, you don’t have time to think before you’re swooped into a giant hug (probably the best damn hug you’ll ever get too). Then Azul is added to the hug and you're both being squished together. His mother loves you instantly, cooing over you both, feeding you some of the best food you’ve ever had while telling you embarrassing stories of Azul when he was just a little fry. Once again, you start seeing him in a new light, a much softer and loving one. He always tried to show you his gentlemanly and suave side, keeping just how soft of a person he was locked deep down, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

Kalim Al-Asim

What do you mean you have nowhere to go? Weren’t you coming to his place? He would be honored to have you as a guest! Just think of all the sleepovers, dates, game nights, and kisses! Actually, he might’ve gone crazy if he was away from you for such a long time. Kalim’s family doesn’t mind either, they don’t even notice one more person in their extravagant palace. Instead of just being swarmed with siblings, you’ve got cousins and distant relatives around you as well. They have both good and bad intentions, some scheming on how to get closer to Kalim, and others scheming on how to get you to play hide and seek. Kalim is practically bouncing off the walls as he drags you down the halls on his grandiose tour. Laughing heartily over the feast his family calls dinner, then taking you on a breathtaking carpet ride above the Scalding Sands. Each day is a different adventure, and Kalim is the one leading you hand in hand into what awaits you both. Poor Jamil, Kalim only got ten times more impulsive as he tries to show you everything he loves (and buy you anything you eye for a second too long). Also…you are in a bit of danger being seen in public so close to Kalim and with how he shows how much he cares about you…

Vil Schoenheit

Do you think he’d let you stay at Night Raven College for months on end without supervision? You’re crazy. Just be prepared to be in a giant mansion alone for a bit. Vil goes without seeing his father for weeks on end, and he himself has a busy schedule. He’d love to take you with him, but unfortunately the media is as savage as a pack of wolves and would shred you apart without second thought. You didn’t mind too much, as long as you could get away from school for just a minute. With those warnings in mind, you were surprised to be greeted by servants taking your luggage to a spare room (right next to Vil’s) then being treated to a fantastic dinner with Eric, Vil’s father joining you two. Even Vil seemed surprised, asking his father about his latest movie. Eric only laughed, stating that he wanted to meet the person who caught his son's attention. You never felt too alone in the mansion, you’d get ready in the morning with Vil, seeing him off, doing your own thing for the day, and ending the night with a home prepared meal or going out to eat if Vil was feeling extra. On his days off, Vil would take you out, sometimes it would be to a spa, going shopping, or you forcing him to take a break and relax at home and watch some movies. You don’t think you could go back to that wack job of a school after getting a taste of luxury.

Idia Shroud

What. You want to go home with him? You do know where he lives right? You’d be totally isolated from all your other friends…you still want to come home with him? He supposes Ortho would be happy to have you around…fine, he just doesn’t like how excited his parents get when he asks for permission (after all he lives in a very secret location). He’s a bit overwhelmed at first, it seems like such an intimate scenario. You’re going to be living with him in the same house in a super secret base in the middle of nowhere. When you arrive, Idia tries not to shove you into his room and lock the door because his parents are non stop pestering you. Asking you about how you met Idia, how he was doing, and about you and your world. Thankfully for Idia, they had to rush back to work quickly, giving you a warm welcome and telling you to ask for anything if need be. To your surprise, Idia watched you like a hawk (and that’s the times you knew of). S.T.Y.X. was a dangerous place, and he’d be damned if he lost you like he lost Ortho. Be prepared to be trapped in a room lit with blue led lights and playing video games and watching anime until you feel your brain melting. Please bring some vitamin D…you’re not going to get enough sunlight. 

Malleus Draconia

Don’t worry child of man, he already has a room in his palace ready for you. Do you really think he was going to let you stay all alone (with Grim but okay) at Night Raven College? Of course not. You’re his precious child of man, he’ll make sure you get nothing but the best. Of course…he had to make sure his grandmother warmed up to you. You are a human after all, and she hasn’t had the best experience with them. Not to mention how his people will view him for bringing a commoner human into the castle and given the royal treatment. He doesn’t care. In fact, Malleus didn’t even think of such a thing, not until Sebek brought it up. When you arrived you felt overwhelmed as the servants bowed (you almost forgot that Malleus was standing next to you). He tried staying by your side for as long as he could, but as future king, he had many things to attend to. This left you on your own a bit, and you got acquainted with Maleficia. At first she terrified you, but over time you both warmed up to each other and Malleus found himself jealous with how much time you spent with her compared to him. All the while she found it amusing that her grandson was so hung up on a human…but she also found it heartbreaking. A fae falling for a human never had a happy ending, but she’s glad to know you’d take care of him well.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Outburst IV

Leah Williamson x Child!Reader

Summary: You go on a podcast

"And you know, as well as being a footballer and playing with Less and Tooney, you're also a mother to a little girl."

Any mention of you makes Leah smile and she glances off camera to where you're sitting with a crayon and a sheet of paper.

"Yeah," She says, that same dopey smile on her face as she tears her gaze away from you," She's four."

"And she's here today."

"Yeah, I almost didn't bring her because we're recording this so early but my mum had to cancel so she's just behind the camera. I think she's-"

"I'm drawin', Mum!" You call out and Leah grins.

"Are you, bug?"

"Uh-huh! Is it my turn yet?"

Leah glances at Vick Hope. "She loves a microphone. I may have promised her a turn on one of the mics in return for waking up so early today."

"Oh, yeah," Tooney says," We've got to have Bug on here."

"If you're okay with that?" Vick checks.

"Yeah. Honestly, I thought she would have interrupted more. She's very excited. Lovebug, do you want to come over here and you can have your turn?"

You're up like a shot, practically tripping over yourself to get to Leah.

The others have to hold in a coo as you come into view.

You'd arrived today in a big puffy coat and was immediately set up behind the camera, blocked by all the staff and the equipment.

Now they can see you clearly, in a pair of old Arsenal kit shorts but a white t-shirt instead of a jersey, black cardigan and a silly black hat just like Leah's, looking every bit her mini apart from the old Jordan shorts you're wearing.

"Alright." Leah lifts you up onto her lap and lowers her mic so it's more your size. "You happy now?"

You frown. "It's not like Auntie Alex's mic."

"Auntie Alex?" The strange woman that's not Less or Tooney asks.

"My auntie Alex always lets me use her mic at games because I have important things to say and mics help people hear me!"

"Alex Scott," Leah puts in, bouncing you on her lap slightly," Bug really loves her."

"Almost as much as I love Mummy!" You turn to look at the strange woman again. "My Mummy plays for Villa in Berm-ham."

"Birmingham," Leah interrupts again and you tilt your head back to look at her, patting her cheek.

"It's my turn now, mum," You tell her," You have to wait your turn to speak again."

Tooney sputters slightly and Alessia has to bite her lip to stop the laughter threatening to come out at Leah's affronted face as you land another condescending pat on her cheek.

"Mummy plays in Berm-ham," You say again," So I see her every other week. She plays for Villa but I like Arsenal more." You puff out your chest. "When I'm older, I'm gonna play for Arsenal."

"Bug already trains with us," Alessia says and you let her talk because she doesn't have to wait her turn because she doesn't share her microphone like you and Leah do," She's very good."

"And I go on camp! Sarina calls me up every time because I'm so good!"

"You must be," The strange but nice lady says," Because you've got two mummies who play football and you must work super hard."

"I do," You say, bobbing your head up and down," Mummy says one day I'm going to be scoring every game because I'm that good."

"We're very proud of our Bug," Leah says and you only let her have a little turn because she's being nice," She always does her very best."

"Enough for a puppy?"

Leah's face drops. "You've got Blu at Jordan's," She reminds you and you perk up suddenly, turning back to your new microphone again.

"Blu's my birthday buddy!" You announce gleefully," We're the same age! And we share a birthday!"

"Wow, that sounds really cool. You must really love your dog."

"I do! I do!"

"Do you miss him when you're on camp?"

You think for a moment. You've never really thought about if you miss Blu on camp before.

Camp is fun because you're got the other girls and auntie Keira and auntie Lucy and Mum and Bear. You've never really stopped to think about Blu when there's already so much to do at camp.

You shake your head. "I miss Bear more."

"Bear's Keira and Lucy's kid," Leah explains," They're best friends but they don't see each other too often because she lives in Barcelona."

"Bear's kind of funny," Tooney says," She's always nappin'."

"Don't be mean!" You snap suddenly, leaning all the way over to smack Tooney on the arm.

"Bug!" Leah groans," We've talk about using our nice hands. We don't hit."

You huff, sitting more firmly on Leah's lap again and crossing your arms over your chest. "No being mean about Bear! She naps because she's tired! Mum says napping is good, right?"

"That is right, Bug. I do say that."

You nod, turning back to the strange but nice lady. "Bear is my best friend and I love her."

Leah grins down at you, adjusting your hat slightly.

"Keira and I aren't huggers but those two certainly are. Always having a little cuddle those two are."

You frown, a little furrow in your brow. "But you are a hugger, Mum. You always give me cuddles."

"Well, yeah, Bug but I was talking-"

"You don't like my cuddles?"

"No, Bug that's not what I'm saying. I just meant-"

Your bottom lips wobbles and you move to slip off Leah's lap. "I'm sorry, mum. I won't have cuddles anymore if it makes you feel better. No more Bug Hugs. Promise!"

"No, Bug," Leah says firmly, pulling you closer into her body, arms curling around your body," I love Bug Hugs. I always want Bug Hugs from you."

[papaya-twinks]

mauve - l.n - p.1

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, swearing.

Pairing: Lando Norris x williams!fem!reader

Taglist: @cheriiepies @jan1on @sagestack @fall-bambi @meglouise00 @eclipsedcherry @suzzie105 @rebelatbay @fly-me-away @cabbyhabs @djoenthusiast @georgeparisole

The announcement of you being the new driver to fill the seat of Logan Sargent had taken everyone by surprise. For many reasons - but it wasn’t a secret to see that you being a woman was more than likely the centre piece of most people’s surprise.

You knew what you were getting into when you signed that contract, and when you shook James Vowles’ hands, you knew there would be uproar. But you were good, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. And whether the keyboard warriors at home wanted you there or not, you were there to race.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Lando wasn’t a sexist person in the slightest. He gave as much respect as he could to women, and he knew that being a woman was tough, but he couldn’t help being a little bewildered as he read over the announcement from the F1 page.

There was no doubt going to be a lot of pressure on you, tenfold what a usual, well, a usual man would receive when they would start in F1. But reading your reply, your joking reply, made Lando frown. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much.

He simply told himself he didn’t care, but surely you should show some sort of…humbleness? Not that there was anything wrong with joking around and stuff, but you were in a privileged position, one of merely twenty, so there should be some sort of modesty.

“Mate, have you seen Williams have gone for some chick?” Max asked, looking over to his best friend as Lando snapped out his thought. Lando was sprawled across the sofa, wearing dark black joggers and a hoodie, a cap pulled low on his head.

“It’s cool, I guess,” Lando said, unsure what to truly say. He didn’t want to make a remark that seemed sexist, when his intentions weren’t as such, so he just didn’t say anything. “It’s gonna be…interesting,” Max said with a small shrug, “you coming golf, then?”.

Lando would never turn down golf. And as he swung his club over his flexing shoulders, the ball sending far down the grass mound, all thoughts of you had fled his mind. He didn’t even understand why he cared. He didn’t care, that’s what he told himself.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

One of Lando’s pet hates was being forced to bring himself to the pre-season grid photo. But he couldn’t deny he wasn’t curious. Other than you, there weren’t any new drivers on the grid, except a few move-arounds, which was rare in some aspects.

“You saw her tweet, right?” Max asked as he zipped up his suit, letting the woman on the stool adjust his hair. “Yeah, she’s taking the piss, mate,” Lando said, dodging the woman and fixing his own hair in the mirror.

You weren’t there with the drivers or the stylists as you were a woman, meaning you got your own space to dress and change. “She’s decent on the eyes, though,” Daniel said, nudging Lando as he rolled his eyes.

“Calm down,” Lando snickered, “she’s, like, 12 or something,” he shrugged, “little bit young for you, or is that the age you go for?”. Finally, the 19 male drivers were ushered out into the area of the Bahrain track, the cars lined up behind them, as they stood in boxes in their pairs.

“Classic girl, right?” Lando whispered to Oscar as the Aussie laughed, noticing you hadn’t come out. And finally, as Lando and Oscar continued chatting away, Max joining in behind them, you walked out. You were pretty, yes, Lando could give you that.

But Lando was hot, he knew that. Well, in his own words, he was ‘alright’. And looks got you nowhere in terms of pure, racing talent. Lando hadn’t even seen you race but he had one thing in his mind already. That there wasn’t an ounce of talent flowing through your veins. Not a drop.

Daniel whispered something along the lines of, ‘They welcome grid girls back?’ as you accepted Alex’s hand, letting him pull you onto the box beside him. The suit fit you well, showing off your body in all the right places as you copied Alex’s stance.

You were directly behind Lando, and he could basically hear you breathing, as he pushed you to the back of his mind, setting his stoic expression for the camera. Maybe he should talk to you. Him and Oscar were once again shushed from their random chatting, as he huffed.

“Smile,” the cameraman said, as Lando gave a somewhat forced one, his usual shining smile clearly outdone by your radiant one. It was obvious you were happy to be there. But, for some reason which was hardly your own fault, Lando wasn’t happy for you to be there.

“Car shots, now!” a woman with a clipboard called out, directing each pairing of driver’s to their car. Once again, the Williams was placed beside the McLaren, almost like a clash of colour together, to show of their vibrancy compared to the dullness of the Mercedes of the VCARB.

If you blurred the lines of the McLaren and the Williams, you’d be left with mauve. Once the photos had been taken, the drivers had 30 minutes just talk and catch up with each other, as winter break had finally finished and most hadn’t spoke to each other for a while.

Lando watched with a half bitter expression as some of the drivers, his teammate included, as well as Carlos and Max, went over to you to introduce themselves. “Hello,” you were saying as Lando begrudgingly walked over to the group of drivers.

“New Williams driver, then?” Max said, stepping back subconsciously to let Lando into the circle. “Yeah,” you replied as Max smirked. “Well, you can light up the rear of the grid for us,” Carlos said with a nod as you smile somewhat faded.

In some ways, the Spaniard was right, the Williams, judging by last year and the year before, was in no place to fight for the top ten, let alone wins, but it did hurt to be put down so early. Before you’d even driven, actually.

“Maybe even the front, hopefully,” Alex said, shooting Max and Carlos a half-forced smile. “Quit it, mate,” Oscar shook his head with an amused smile as you followed Alex to examine the car. “McLaren’s looking good,” you said, kneeling down to examine the side of the car.

“Don’t get too close, there,” a voice said, making you jump as you straightened, seeing Lando. “Uh, I didn’t plan on it,” you said, cheeks a little red as he nodded. “Right,” he said, “it’s a good car, no?” he asked, eyes flashing across your face to gauge your reaction.

“Looks fast,” you said, eyes on the car, trailing over the bodywork. “Well, I’ll see you later, then,” Lando said with a half-hearted smile, “maybe when I lap you, I doubt I’ll be as low on the grid to pay you a visit,” he said coolly.

“I admire your confidence,” you said coolly, still looking over the car, Lando’s somewhat cocky nature faltering for a second. “Stay in your lane, Y/L/N,” he nearly hissed, leaning forwards as you felt his breath fan across your face, “and don’t step out of it,”.

A/N - Comment if you want to be in the tag list 💜

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-one

331 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty

For all he talks about breaking expectations and all that, Eddie, for the life of him, can’t make himself ask about Steve’s game. By the time the hour is up he hasn’t said a word. Just as the boy is about to leave the room, Eddie breaks.

“Hey, Harrington,” he calls and Steve turns to him quickly. 

“Yeah?” he asks, somewhat breathlessly.

Eddie’s eyes dart around the room before settling somewhere around his shoes. “Good luck, man.”

When seconds pass without a reply, Eddie looks up only to see Steve’s head tilted to the side in confusion. “Good luck what?” he asks, even as the corner of his mouth lifts into a lazy smile.

Despite himself, Eddie can’t help but smile back. “Obliterating the dickheads tonight.”

Steve absolutely beams. Which makes it really hard for Eddie to keep his word, but he can’t break it within only a couple of hours. He just can’t. No matter how adorable Harrington looks when he’s happy. 

— — — — 

As many things as Eddie is willing to do for the absolute angel that he’s discovered is Steve Harrington, watching basketball (live basketball, at that) is not one of them. 

With that being said, as he works on his portrait of the boy, he may or may not have his radio tuned into the station broadcasting tonight’s home game. 

He just needed some background noise and this is what was on (nevermind the dozens of other stations or tapes he has). Total coincidence. 

And so what if everytime the announcer says Harrington it brings a small smile to Eddie’s face. And that doesn’t even hold a candle to the full fledged grin that takes over his face when Steve scores the winning basket. 

See, Eddie couldn’t care less about basketball or the fact that this win apparently means they’re playing the championship game in about two weeks. Other than the fact he knows it’s important to a certain basketball captain, of course. 

Ugh. What is wrong with him?

twenty-two

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[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

A little help from my friend -Oneshot

@talesofreading I'm sorry it took me so long to get this done for you! I hope you like it. Happy belated birthday darling. Word count: 3880

“For fuck’s sake,” Y/N grunted as she walked into the Avengers communal kitchen and common room area.  She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a protein drink and some food to make a quick breakfast.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Wanda piped up from the kitchen table.  The other Avengers were all milling about, getting their own breakfasts before heading out or training.  Y/N had an early morning training with the recruits most days, so she often missed the communal breakfast meals.

“Nothing,” Y/N sighed.

“Don’t make me read your mind,” Wanda warned.

Y/N glared at her, and Wanda glared back.  Their conversation got the attention of the other Avengers in the area.  “It’s not a big deal,” Y/N continued.  “One of the new recruits is just a little…too interested in me personally,” she said, turning back to the counter.

Wanda frowned.  “What happened?”

Steve, Sam and Bucky all listened carefully, slowly eating their breakfasts.  Y/N was suddenly very aware of everyone in the area.  “It’s really not a big deal–”

“It is if it’s bothering you, Y/N,” Steve spoke up, all Captain America at that moment.  “Especially if it’s affecting your job or you feeling safe.”

Y/N smiled at him appreciatively.  “I can handle myself, Cap,” she said.  

“Never said you couldn’t,” he retorted.  “But if we can nip it in the bud with this recruit–”

“He just keeps asking for my number, okay?” Y/N said, waving away everyone’s concern.  “And…cornering me after training.  It’s fine.  I can handle it,” she said, finishing preparing her food and cleaning up after herself.

“What’s his name?” Bucky asked.

Everyone turned to him in surprise.  Y/N had worked with him multiple times on missions and talked with him regularly, becoming good friends, but this still surprised her.  Bucky rarely joined the conversation unless prompted.  He was very low key and kept to himself most of the time.  So him looking at her with such an intense look and asking a question was a shock.  She stared at him with wide eyes.  “Tyler,” she replied.  He arched an eyebrow at her.  “Whitacre,” she finished.  

Bucky nodded and looked down, finishing his breakfast.  Nobody said a word as Y/N quickly gathered her food and left the kitchen.  She shook her head at herself once she reached her room to eat then shower.  She’d been growing some pretty strong feelings toward Bucky for a while now, but tamped them down deep in her heart.  He didn’t need some lovesick coworker to deal with.  He just needed friends as he integrated into regular life.  There was no way he’d feel the same toward her…would he?

***

“Today we’ll be starting gun training,” Y/N announced to her training group.  There was an excited whispered chatter from the recruits at her words.  “I could teach you myself, but I thought I’d bring in the expert of all experts in this field.  I expect you to shut up, listen, and give him the respect he deserves.  Our guest trainer is Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky was already walking into the training room as she introduced him, his face hard and stoic as it always was in these environments.  The recruits clapped for him as he stood next to Y/N.  “Thank you, Agent Y/L/N,” he greeted her then turned to the recruits.  “Let’s see what you got.”

After a rigorous training, where Bucky really broke down a few recruits and built them back up, each of their shots getting better by the end, they all left exhausted.  Bucky stayed behind, cleaning up the guns used for the training with Y/N when Tyler approached her.  “Hey Y/N,” he said, sidling up to her far too close for her liking.  

“Agent Whitacre,” she greeted him, giving him a polite but tight smile.  “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Ah come on, Y/N, I told you to call me Tyler,” he smirked at her.

“And I told you to call me Agent Y/L/N,” she replied, her eyes narrowing in warning.

Tyler’s face had a flash of annoyance before his smirk came back.  “Right.  Well, you ran off last time before I got a chance to ask you–”

“Once again, Agent, I’m flattered, but no thank you,” Y/N said hastily, turning away and closing another case of guns.  “I’ll see you next training.”

Tyler followed her as she walked away to the locker room to put the case away in the gun lockers.  She carefully put things away and turned to find him cornering her.  “Don’t be like that Y/N…” he started, taking another step toward her, his arms reaching up to cage her against the wall.

A loud bang made them both jump as Tyler whipped around to see Bucky who had set down another gun case sharply, glaring at Tyler.  He slowly approached, his eyes never leaving Tyler like he was hunting him.  He swerved around him at the last second, making Tyler flinch, then focused on Y/N as he inserted himself between them.  He reached his metal hand out and wrapped it around the back of her neck, angling her head up as he leaned down and kissed her deeply.  Y/N inhaled sharply, stiffening against him as she heard Tyler scoff.  The kiss ended too soon, Y/N barely kissing him back before Bucky pulled away and looked down at her.  “You good, Sweets?” he asked quietly, but just loud enough for Tyler to hear.

“Yeah,” Y/N whispered, staring up at him in shock.

Bucky looked her over then turned to Tyler, keeping himself as a shield in front of Y/N.  “Respect the no, recruit,” he said lowly.  “And your form is shit.  Work on that before next time or I’ll make an example of you in front of everyone.”

Tyler swallowed harshly, his lips tight and his eyes wide as he minutely nodded.  “Yes sir,” he said.  He glanced at Y/N then walked quickly out of the locker room, running once he’d got past the door frame.

Bucky watched him leave, then turned back to Y/N.  He had an unreadable expression as they stared at each other for what felt like forever.  “Just tell me if he bothers you anymore,” he said, then turned and left.

Y/N stared after him incredulously.  Her fingers lifted to her mouth, his kiss still searing on her lips, the feeling of his metal fingers holding her firmly but gently on the back of her neck as his thumb caressed her jaw tingling her skin.  What the fuck just happened?

***

The gun training lasted two more training sessions, and every time at the end of class Bucky would linger behind with Y/N to clean up, then make a small show of kissing her in front of Tyler as he was leaving.  It took her by surprise each time, Bucky coming from seemingly nowhere and with no preamble, just kissing the living daylights out of her, calling her “Sweets,” then walking away like nothing happened.  Once the gun training was over Tyler didn’t even look her way anymore unless he had to.  So Bucky’s little plan had worked, but now Y/N was confused.  And worse, she craved him even more.

Three weeks later Y/N and Bucky were on a mission together.  It was surveillance on a potential target that was dealing in high power weaponry.  Y/N and Bucky had barely spoken to each other since that last gun training, exchanging brief greetings and farewells as they passed each other in the hallway.  The other Avengers had given some side-eyed looks, since Y/N and Bucky had normally been pretty friendly before, but no one commented on it otherwise.  Now she was stuck with him in close quarters for the next week as they gathered as much information about the target as possible.

She woke up from her turn sleeping, getting ready for the day and approaching Bucky who was sitting by the window in the small apartment they were staying in.  He hadn’t moved from the spot since she’d gone to bed hours before.  “Anything?” she asked quietly.  

“Another prostitute,” Bucky replied, standing and stretching as she took his place by the window.  “Otherwise nothing worth noting.”

“How lovely,” Y/N scoffed.  She got herself comfortable and looked through the scope Bucky had propped on the windowsill.  The view into the opposite apartment where the target stayed was pristine.  “He didn’t leave the blinds open, did he?” she asked, looking up at him.

“He did,” Bucky grimaced.  

“Jesus,” Y/N winced.  “You got quite the show.”

“Not really.  He only lasted about two minutes.”

Y/N laughed loudly at that.  “Poor girl,” she giggled, wiping her eyes and looking through the scope again.  “At least she was paid.”

Bucky chuckled and started walking towards the bedroom.  “Let me know if anything changes, Sweets.”

Y/N stiffened and before she could stop herself she grunted, “Don’t call me that.”

Bucky stopped and looked back at her.  Y/N kept her gaze in the scope, her face flushing with embarrassment.  She hadn't meant to say it out loud.  But who did he think he was to use the same pet name that he’d used in a fake “situationship” to help her get away from some creep and then use it in everyday life?  Like he hadn’t rocked her world three times over?  She heard his footsteps come back towards her, then the shuffle of his clothes as he kneeled down beside her.  “Why not?” he asked.

Y/N breathed heavily, trying to calm her thundering heart.  She kept her gaze in the scope, her hands tightening to fists in her lap.  “No one to save me from,” she said nonchalantly.

Bucky suddenly gripped her arm and pulled her to face him.  She gasped lightly as he manhandled her, moving so he was kneeling between her legs, bringing his face close to hers and taking her hands in his.  His eyes were piercing as he stared at her.  “That’s not it,” he said.  “Tell me why not?”

Y/N blinked rapidly.  “That is the reason,” she whispered.

Bucky shook his head.  “I can tell when people lie, Sweets.  Try again.”

Y/N shut her eyes tight.  “Please stop calling me that.”

She felt Bucky’s metal fingers caress her cheek and back into her hair, holding her head like he did when he kissed her.  She fought back the shiver at the coolness of metal, not wanting to give away just how badly she wanted this man.  Y/N heard and felt his breath fanning her face as he leaned in closer.  His nose brushed along her cheek, his lips ghosting close to the side of her lips.  “I can’t, Y/N.  You taste too sweet,” he murmured.

Y/N whimpered, and without warning tears pricked at her eyes.  She shook her head and pushed him away, standing and walking toward the bedroom.  “I can’t do this,” she nearly sobbed.

“Woah, wait, Y/N!” Bucky called out to her.  She tried closing and locking the bedroom door but he stopped it with his foot.  “Hey, don’t run away from me,” he grunted, pushing the door back open and looking at her in surprise.  “I’m sorry–”

“Please just leave me alone,” Y/N sighed, wiping her eyes and turning away from him.

“Y/N,” he said, sounding wounded.  “Talk to me.”

“How am I supposed to talk to you?” She was suddenly angry, turning back to face him with a glare.  “You decided the best way to help me with a creepy recruit was to publicly claim me in front of him and who knows how many others by kissing me?  And not just once, but three times?  Calling me a cute pet name?  Do you enjoy giving people false hope and then walking away because it means nothing to you?  And expect us to go back to normal?  What the fuck, Barnes?”

Bucky recoiled at her using his last name.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.  “I…I should have talked to you beforehand, and not just done it.  That wasn’t fair, I’m sorry.”  Y/N crossed her arms, holding herself as she fought back more tears.  He took a step closer.  “And then I was a coward and didn’t talk to you about it afterwards, either.  God, I’m an idiot,” he grumbled, running his flesh hand over his face harshly.  “I…I really like you, Y/N.  I’m sorry I went about this totally wrong.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Y/N stared at him for a long moment then nodded.  “Thank you.  I forgive you,” she said.  

Bucky watched her sadly.  “Can I…can we start over?” he asked hopefully.

Y/N couldn’t stop the small smile spreading on her lips.  “Sure,” she said.  

He smiled and stepped toward her again.  He took a deep breath and licked his lips.  “I like you, as much more than just a friend.”

“I like you, too,” Y/N said quickly.

Bucky’s smile widened.  “Once we get home, can I take you out on a proper date?”

“Yes,” she said.

***

A week later they were coming home from a proper, successful date.  Bucky was quite the gentleman, taking her to a nice restaurant in the city, then a solo night tour (probably courtesy of Tony) through The Metropolitan Museum of Art.  They grabbed some dessert on the way home, talking the whole time as they snacked on the treat.  Bucky had kept a hand on her at all times, whether it was on her back as he guided her around or holding her hand as they walked.  They got off the elevator and Bucky walked her to her bedroom door.  

“Thank you for going out with me,” he said, standing toe to toe with her.

“Thank you,” Y/N said.  “I’ve never had such a fun first date.”

“Really?  Wow, I’ll have to up the ante next time,” Bucky smirked, his flesh hand reaching up and playing with the tips of her hair.

“Next time?” Y/N arched her eyebrow.  “You seem very sure of yourself.”

“I am,” Bucky said, leaning forward.  “But of course I’m a gentleman.”

“Of course,” Y/N teased.

“So…would you like to go out with me again?” he asked, his forehead resting against her forehead.  

Y/N pretended to think about it.  “Mmh, I’ll have to check my schedule, so for now it’s a tentative yes,” she smirked back at him.  

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his fingers moving from her hair to her jaw, tracing it lightly.  “A tentative yes?” he grumbled.  “I know you like to tease, but I’m gonna need an enthusiastic yes, Sweets.”

Y/N’s eyes slightly widened at the pet name.  He hadn’t called her that since they got back from the mission, and she actually missed hearing it from him.  She nodded.  “Yes, I’d like to go out with you again,” she reassured him.  

His smirk returned.  “Good girl, Sweets,” he said.  Y/N felt a shiver down her spine at his words.  His eyes flicked back and forth between her eyes, then glanced at her lips.  “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N nodded.  “Yes.”

Bucky’s metal hand gripped her by the back of the neck like the other times, his metal thumb sweeping over her cheek.  He leaned down and kissed her softly, not as firmly or passionately as the other times.  It was like he was trying to reassure her that this was real, and he wanted more than brief sexual tension.  And as much as she appreciated that, she craved what he’d given her before.  Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she gripped his shirt under his jacket, angling her head to deepen the kiss.  Bucky moaned against her mouth at her urgency.

“I’m trying to be, mmh, a gentleman, Sweets,” he groaned, pulling away and lightly pecking her lips repeatedly.

“You can be a gentleman and fuck me at the same time,” Y/N mumbled.

Bucky huffed a sharp breath, like her words sucked the air right out of him and he sagged against her, pushing her into her bedroom door.  “Fuck, Y/N, you can’t say that to me,” he growled.  “God, you drive me fucking crazy.”

Y/N smiled as she kissed from his lips down to his neck.  “Your room or mine, handsome?”

Bucky moaned again and dipped down, picking her up and holding her by her thighs.  He turned around to his bedroom door that was across the hall and marched towards it as he kissed her deeply again.  He ripped the door open and kicked it shut behind them before pinning her against the door.  His knee pushed under her core to keep her lifted as his hands slid to her ass, feeling the cheeks of her ass as he opened his mouth, his tongue licking her lower lip and sucking on it.  Y/N shuddered and whimpered against his mouth.  Bucky gasped at the first noise he was able to pull from her.  “Let me hear you, Sweets.  God, you’re so good.”  His tongue plunged back into her mouth, tasting her tongue and moaning again.  “You feel so good…sound so good…taste so good,” he breathed.  

Y/N moaned at the rushed desperation in his movements.  Feeling so wanted, so needed, was making her lightheaded and feel like she was beaming.  Her hands moved to cup his face, scratching his beard then reaching up into his hair, scratching down his scalp.  That pulled a deep growl from his chest, his hips rutting up into her.  She hummed, smiling against his lips.  Bucky pulled her away from the door and carried her to his bed, laying her on it gently as he shrugged his jacket off.  

It was a flurry of clothes being pulled off and flung into corners of his room, limbs clambering over each other as they moved further up onto the bed, huffed gasps and whimpers.  Bucky nipped at her throat as he felt how wet and ready she was for him.  “Protection?” he asked.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, her nails scratching down his back.

Bucky smiled against the skin of her shoulder.  He aimed his cock at her entrance and started to slowly push inside.  Y/N’s head wrenched back and she gasped at the fill and stretch of him, and Bucky tucked his face into her breasts as her back arched, kissing and licking her nipples to help ease her.  “Fucking hell, Sweets,” he swore, looking up at her as she relaxed back into the bed when she was adjusted to him.  He gave her the first roll of his hips, making her tremble beneath him.  “So responsive,” he smirked.  

“Kinda hard not to be, with all this above me,” Y/N breathed, her hands sliding up his chest.  “You live up to your name, handsome.”  Bucky blushed, smiling bashfully at her.  “Aw, you’re so cute,” Y/N cooed at him, her hands reaching up to his face and pulling him down to kiss him sweetly.  “I’ll have to compliment you more often.”

Bucky’s hips thrusted again and her mouth dropped open in a silent moan.  “Quit teasing,” he said, licking into her mouth.  “As much as I love your flirty compliments, I really need to fuck you before I lose my mind.”

“Then fuck me!” Y/N said, rubbing her nose along his cheek.  “Please!”

Bucky inhaled deeply then started pummeling his hips into her.  Y/N’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and held on tight as he held her in a hug so her body wouldn’t be pushed up the bed at his thrusts.  He sucked and licked at her neck repeatedly, pulling more wanton moans from her at the mix of pain and pleasure, leaving as much bruising evidence for later as possible.  He kissed his way back up to her mouth where she easily opened up to him, their tongues swirling and nipping at each other’s lips.  It was never-ending and yet too short all at the same time as Y/N tried not to get lost in her head at the blinding pleasure.  Y/N sucked on his tongue and Bucky adjusted his position to snap his hips slightly more upward, which had her keening against his mouth.  “There it is,” he smirked, then continued his previous, frantic pace in that new direction.  He was hitting that deep spot inside every time, Y/N’s breaths becoming more short and hyperventilated as her head thrashed back and forth at the overwhelming pressure building in her gut.

“Buck…handsome, I’m gonna cum…ah!” Y/N yelped as Bucky sat up, his flesh fingers strumming her clit as his metal hand held her at the back of her neck like the other times he’d kissed her, but this time his grip was tighter, tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck.  He forced her head up to meet him halfway as he pushed their foreheads together.  

“Cum all over my cock, Sweets.  Let me feel you,” Bucky growled, staring deep into her eyes.  Y/N gasped again at his words, then finally felt the snap deep in her belly.  She screamed as she came, her hands gripping his biceps and her legs shaking over his hips as her pussy clamped down on him.  Bucky grunted, his eyes shutting tight as he continued thrusting, prolonging her orgasm as his fingers never let up on her clit.  “That’s it, fuck!” Bucky hissed between gritted teeth.  “Where can I cum, Sweets?”

“Anywhere you want,” Y/N huffed, her body still twitching with aftershocks.  She was so close to cumming again.  

“Holy shit, dirty girl, huh?” Bucky asked excitedly.  “You feel so good, I’m just gonna fill you up.  Is that okay?”

“Yyyyeessss,” Y/N groaned.

“Good girl, Sweets,” he praised her.  His hands gripped her hips tightly as he thrust even harder into her pussy, the sharp snaps making her jiggle and shake.  Y/N slipped a hand down and started rubbing her clit, her other hand gripping his wrist.  “Yeah, make yourself feel good.  You gonna cum again?  God, you’re so fucking beautiful, so pretty.  Prettiest pussy, Sweets.”  

Y/N shook harder as she felt her second orgasm barrel through her, her nerves feeling like they were on fire.  When she came Bucky moaned loudly, her pussy squeezing him beyond belief.  He finally came, continuing to thrust and fill her up until it dripped from between them and down their thighs to her ass.  “Bucky…” she huffed.

“Sorry, Sweets, I can’t help it,” Bucky shook above her, his cock still throbbing inside her.  “You squeeze me so good…and the serum makes everything, fuck…” he leaned down so his head rested on her chest.  “Makes everything more intense.”

“It’s okay, handsome,” Y/N smiled, her hands going to his hair and scratching his scalp, softly pulling at the strands.  He hummed at her gentle fingers’ caresses.  “We can just take a shower.”

Bucky hummed again, sounding more gravelly as he looked up at her.  “Dirty girl,” he smirked.

THE END

[callsign-bobsgirl]

Baby On Board

Pairing: Bob Floyd x f!Reader Summary: There seems to be a misunderstanding between you and the Dagger Squad about your husband's callsign. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: Unbeta-ed, rusty writing and one clumsy allusion to smut. Otherwise none.

When the gang found out that Bob could actually talk to women, they were shocked.

When the gang found out that Bob had been talking to, coming home to, and loving on the same woman for the past ten years, they were somehow less shocked.

What shocked Bob — although in retrospect it probably shouldn’t have — is just how adamantly everyone insisted on getting to meet the Mrs. Bob Floyd. The mystery that the quiet WSO kept under wraps. This Friday at the Hard Deck, seven o’clock.

Which is what he groaned into your neck early that afternoon after Mav had sent everyone home early as a reward. The two of you lazed about on top of the covers, the box of clothes half unpacked and forgotten at the foot of the bed the minute Bob walked through the bedroom door.

“I was hoping to keep you to myself for just a little longer,” your husband whined; turned humming as you ran your hand through his hair.

“I’m more hurt you didn’t immediately tell them about your hot wife in Lemoore,” you muse, “I mean what if I came down to surprise you, hmm? What if I popped down to the Top Deck before we permanently moved down huh? And that … Flameman or whatever tried to hit on me because he didn’t have it burned into his skull that I’m the lovely Mrs. Floyd hmm? What then?”

Groaning, Bob lifted himself to his elbows, pressing kisses to your jaw, “When we meet Hangman at the Hard Deck, he’s probably gonna hit on you anyways, if nothing else than to try and get a rise out of me.”

“Ah yes, you and your famous impulsive temper,” you tease.

Sliding a hand from Bob’s torso up to his shoulder, you quickly flip him over so you’re on top. Grinning cheekily you lean back on your haunches, getting to work on Bob’s belt while he fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt, waiting for his turn to strip you of the offending cloth.

“I’ll talk to my sister, see if she can’t reschedule some stuff for Friday,” you say, reaching your hand down your husband's briefs and getting a pleased hum in response.

—

When the two of you walked into the Hard Deck, you for the first time, you let Bob lead you through the crowds of people and he pointed out the different ranks of aviators, the obvious gaggles of tag chasers, and the old-timers who were loyal to the bar. You did your best to listen but you were busy smoothing down the sundress Bob loved so much and it was really loud in here.

“Stop worrying,” Bob leaned down to say in your ear, “You can run miles around these guys.” The WSO paused for a second, “Maybe not … physically, but in every other way.”

You laugh as you slap the back of your hand against his chest, “will Phoenix be here at least?”

“You see the guy in the Hawaii print?”

“Uh-huh”

“See the woman who just jabbed him with the pool stick?”

“Yeah?”

“Phoenix.”

The two of you approach the pool table everyone is crowded around but before you can announce yourself, a boyish-looking man with amber skin whistles and waves across the pool table, bringing everyone’s attention with him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bob!”

Everyone clamoured to meet the new arrivals, but you didn’t miss how one of them — a blond, cocky-looking son of a bitch with a toothpick dangling from his lip — held back, only to eventually push his way past an ‘LT. Fitch’. 

“Well Darlin’, it sure is nice to finally meet you,” his grin sure does take over his face, huh, “callsign Hangman, but you can call me Jake,” he says with a wink.

You share a look with Bob — who had just returned from the bar with your cocktail and his peanuts — and yeah, Hangman was exactly as you imagined him.

Saying a quick thanks to your husband and making sure to drag your fingers across Bob’s as you take the glass from him, you turn back to the other blond who won’t stop with the cocksure smirk. If Bob hadn’t warned you that Jake, for all that he was like … well this, was harmless and wouldn’t actually try anything; you’d be throwing the drink in his face.

But you also figured the alcohol would do better in you than on him.

Later in the evening, after everyone had had a few drinks and you’d loosened up, Topman sauntered back over to your stool where you were admiring your husband bent over the pool table.

“I gotta admit, I am mystified at how our Baby on Board managed to snag you,” the pilot kept going, finally getting a chuckle out of you.

‘Cause yeah, ‘Baby On Board’, that was funny you’d give Bagman that one. You didn’t get why it made the rest of the squadron look at you weird though.

“What?” you ask. 

You also couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling when Rooster swatted the back of Hangman’s head, but Phoenix is the one who elbows herself up to Hangman, going between glaring at him and raising her eyebrow at you.

“You … you do get what Bagman’s saying about Bob here, right?”

You nod, still not getting where the miscommunication lies.

“That Bob is … you know, a baby?” she explains.

Right as you emphatically exclaim, “fucks!”

And boy if that didn’t get the guys hooting and hollering, as your husband’s face turns bright pink.

Did these guys not get it? There’s a reason your Robby was one of the only two squadron members who’d even made it down the aisle. The way his hair was never out of place in uniform, how it bounced when he was out of it, and how soft it felt between your fingers. Those blue eyes that demanded your attention and turned you into a puddle when they darkened. Did his squad think you could let him do more than an hour of yard work in the summer, chest all sweaty and glistening before you beckoned him back into the privacy of the house? Or even worse, when he danced from the kitchen to the living room, carrying mugs of hot chocolate, on Christmas in those ‘family matching’ pyjamas.

‘Bob is a baby’ for the best of the best in the navy, these people were fools.

“I don’t get what the big fuss is,” you tell the aviators, “honestly, with every year that passes I half expect a kid to reach out from wherever he’s been deployed over the years.” Which gets another round of laughter out of your husband’s colleagues.

Robby knew you knew how insanely in love with him you were and how much you trusted him, and you knew how deep his devotion to you was — which is why instead of defending himself he just hid his red face in your hair. Already hearing the jokes he’ll face on base next month. You bringing a hand up to clumsily yet comfortingly cup his jaw helped though.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Payback says sincerely, “it's just that the Bob we know, the Bob we work with … it's kinda hard to see the Bob you know in him.”

And that’s when you realize. If Robby hadn’t told his squadron anything about you, then he definitely hasn’t said anything about …

“No I get it, my Robby can be on the quieter side, and probably downplays his moves at work” You hear Robby groan in your ear, knowing exactly what you’re about to reveal; and you gear yourself to revel in the shock you’re about to create. 

“But he did get three kids out of me.”  

The yelps of surprise and demands of proof had everyone in the bar glancing over at the pool table, but you and Bob just laughed at them as he handed over his wallet: showing off the five of you in the small ID window.

_____________________________________________

A/N: this is 100% from my own misunderstanding of Hangman's joke the first few times I watched the TGM, I truly thought he was implying Bob must always have a baby on the way because look at him??? Anyways, first time posting in the fandom. Come on over and say hi! And ... idk, live laugh love long and prosper.

also s/o to @sailor-aviator for helping my brain when it wasn't braining ♡

[homiesexuallaj]

Request: Eric Draven (Bill Skarsgård version) introverted loner, meets Shelly who helps bring him out of his shell. Its love at first sight for Eric😍🖤

Pairing: Eric Draven x reader

Warnings/Genre: heavy au, fluff, rehab, troublemaker Shelly, Shelly makes you into a troublemaker, you and Shelly are like besties, shy Eric, reader flirts with Eric a tad, drug mention, mention of cigarettes

A/N: Okay yes I did read the ask wrong but in my defense I was blinded by the god of “x reader’s” and somehow my brain added that shelly introduced the reader to Eric, but hopefully you still enjoy it!

--- --- ---

You'd been in rehab awhile now. At least a couple months. You didn't have many friends, or any really. You had a few acquaintances that you got along with but no one that you had a true bond with.

Every day became the same for you. Shower, get dressed, breakfast, group therapy, afternoon outside time, lunch, one-on-one therapy, evening outside time, dinner, sleep, and repeat. It was tiring with no change. Until a certain duo started to cause some ruckus.

You didn't know who they were. The noticeable things were that they both were severely tatted up and that there seemed to be a whole foot of height difference between the two. The girl of the duo seemed to cause the trouble and disruption, dragging the poor, tall boy into her shenanigans. After getting in trouble for the umpteenth time, the boy disappeared and you came into view.

The girl, who's name was Shelly, popped herself right down at your table during lunch time. She had such a wide smile that her usual wide eyes turned to crescents. She twirled her hair as you two talked.

You two seemed to click almost instantly and Shelly quickly brought you out of your shell, dragging you into mischief. Mischief like sitting with boys Shelly thought were attractive, causing food fights, sneaking around after hours, escaping through the narrow windows in the laundry room, and giving each other stick-and-poke tattoos.

Shelly really did bring the troublemaker out of you.

Three weeks went by before Shelly's male companion was released from solitary confinement.

Shelly quickly flew back into his arms, dragging you by your hands. And here, you finally got a good close-up look at the man.

Compared to before solitary confinement, the man has black, crow-colored hair. Throughout the weeks here, his mullet had grown out, the tips of his hair curling up and peaking out from behind his neck. His eyes were a muddy green, brown flecks turning golden in the sunlight. His black tattoos were a stark contrast against his pale skin. And up close now, the man really was tall. So tall that you were face-to-face with his chest, his very broad chest.

Over the next few weeks of troublemaking, you learned that Shelly's male companion's name was Eric Draven and that Shelly often took the lead in troublemaking (with you being announced as second-in-command). Eric was rather shy and was often dragging in your's and Shelly's troublemaking. And he wasn't lookout, oh no, Eric was dragged down right into the middle. He often hoisted you girls up into places where your heights wouldn't allow you to reach.

At the moment, it was just you prancing through the halls. Shelly was off playing with one of her boy toys. You weren't looking for anyone in particular but when you came upon an open door on the second floor you couldn't help but peer in.

The room was messy. The mattress was overturned and the sheets torn off. There were papers everywhere, practically covering the tile floor, and a couple sheets of paper were thrown out into the hallway. In the middle of the room, picking up some of the papers, was Eric. He seemed irritated, probably because the care staff had ransacked his room. You shrugged, picking up the papers that led from the hallway and into his room.

"Well well well," You started, leaning against the doorframe. "What do we have here?"

"Oh um," Eric seemed to jump a bit at your presence. "Just some sketches."

You hummed, "You mind if I take a peak?"

"Not at all," Eric responded, swiping aside a couple papers so he could out his mattress right side up.

You flipped through your hand full of papers. Eric's drawings were good. Many were of the outside forest that surrounded the rehab building, others were of people around the common areas, and a few more caught your eye. There were some drawings of Shelly, mostly closeups like poses or while she was doing something nearby. The rest were of... you. Most from afar, drawn from across rooms or from different floors (as the angle suggested). The drawings were innocent enough, but one or two were you drawn in your undershirt and sweats with a hint of your nipples poking through the thin material. You blushed and cleared your throat.

"You like women with tight clothes, don't you?" You teased, watching as Eric put the sheets back on his bed.

Eric stood and looked down at your hand, seeing the slightly provocative drawings. He blushed heavy, spreading out across is cheeks and down his neck.

"Sometimes," He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

You only hummed in response and nodded, setting the papers down on a nearby table. You sauntered over to the taller man, causing him to drop his sheets that he was attempting to wrap around his mattress. You stood as tall as you could and wrapped your arms around Eric's shoulders, pulling him down to you a bit.

"What do you like to do for fun, Eric?" You practically purred, standing close but yet not close enough.

Eric looked between your eyes, nervous but there was obviously something else ticking in his mind. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his hands twitching. It was like he was itching to touch you but wasn't sure if he was allowed.

"I'll-I'll show you," Eric told you and made a motion to stand at his full height.

You pulled away from Eric and watched his movement.

Eric moved around you and peaked out the doorway of his room, looking for wandering staff. Once the coast was deemed clear, Eric grabbed your hand (almost on instinct) and lead you down and around the hallways.

The white walls twisted and turned. Wherever Eric was leading you, it got dimmer and dimmer. After another look around, Eric opened a door that he lead you two to. It squeaked loudly and you both cringed. Before you could have a look around, Eric pulled you into the dark room. The door shut behind you and you were befallen into pure darkness.

Eric let go of your hand and you could hear him shuffling around. He knocked into a couple things, cursing under his breath. A metallic creak and a groan were heard and the room was lit up from the ceiling. A ladder came down from the square opening. You stared at it, wondering what Eric had gotten you into.

"I'll go first," Eric muttered, already climbing up the ladder.

You followed a few steps behind.

Eric disappeared into the light. You followed and peaked your head up into the open air.

You were on top of the rehab building, rocks covered the entire roof. It was all flat, save for the three-foot-tall border around the roof to keep people from falling off. There were a few machines up here, like for air conditioning and stuff. It was all white up here, with the texture of gray from the rocks.

A tattooed hand interrupted your looking around. You followed the arm up to the face of the person. Eric was giving you an amused look. You rolled your eyes and grabbed Eric's hand, allowing him to help you the rest of the way up.

"So how did you learn to come up here?" You asked once your feet hit the rocks.

"The staff only come up here during certain times of the day," Eric answered, leading you to some metal duct-work that laid down on the roof. "If you watch it's not hard to learn their routines."

"Ah," You responded, now realizing how much Eric really watched his surroundings. "So this.. is what you do for fun?"

"Kinda boring, right?" Eric chuckled, sitting down on the duct-work and fishing a couple thin, white objects and an orange lighter from between the rocks.

"Why this?" You asked, avoiding Eric's question.

"It's just nice to get away from people sometimes," Eric lit the thin object, a cigarette, and took a hit. "It's loud down there. Out here is quiet."

Eric blew the smoke away from you and offered you the cigarette.

"No thanks," You held a hand up. "I don't smoke."

Eric nodded, keeping the cigarette to himself now.

It was quiet now. You couldn't help but side-eye Eric, admiring his smoking form. His long fingers kept the cigarette held in place, you noticed a slight tremor in them.

You could help but scoot a bit closer to the tall man, still eyeing him to see his reaction to you testing the waters. You saw him side-eyeing you back. You switched your eyes to the forest ahead, watching the swaying trees. Slowly, you leaned over towards Eric and laid your head atop his shoulder.

He tensed for a moment but relaxed, taking another hit from his cigarette.

"You're right," You muttered. "It is quiet up here."

--- --- ---

A/N: My askbox is open for Eric Draven! Feel free to drop one in!

[hannahssimblr]

“Is that everything?” Mom’s car idles as I haul my last suitcase out of the boot and onto the pavement. The wind is frigid, slicing through the tunnel of concrete and asphalt at departures, and whipping my clothes about my body like sails.

“Yeah,” I say. “That’s it now.”

“Alright,” she says, and pauses, her face halfway turned, so I see her in profile from my place by the open boot, her sharp cheekbone silhouetted by the sunrays through the open floors of a car park.

“Right, well.”

“Yes. I better go.”

“Thanks for the lift.”

She hesitates, her chest rising and falling with a sharp breath. “I- It’s a shame you have to go,” she says eventually. “But it’s for the best.”

“Yes.”

“Call me when you land.”

“I’ll text.”

“That’s fine.”

I slam the boot shut, and she pulls away from the curb with a roar of her engine. 

“Would all passengers travelling to Berlin on flight DLH-3478 please have your boarding passes and passports ready for boarding? Flight DLH-3478 now boarding at gate 41.” 

“Welcome on board,” says a peppy flight attendant. “Can I help you find your seat?”

“No.”

I shuffle down the aisle to the sounds of sleepy murmuring from the other passengers. A combination of English and German. I find my seat and shove my bag into the overhead compartment. 

As luck would have it, I was randomly assigned a window seat. I squeeze in, my knees bent and nudging the seat in front of me. 

Next to me, an older lady, in her sixties maybe, struggles in. “Oh, goodness’ sake,” she says, in this lilting, Donegal brogue. “These seats weren’t made for tall fellas like you, were they?”

“Suppose not.” I turn my face to stare at the asphalt out the window. 

She settles in, hauling a heavy purse onto her lap, from which she unloads her reading glasses, a book with a WHSmith sticker on the cover, a BLT sandwich and a knitting project, still on the needles. 

I breathe slowly from my nose. 

“Terrible early flight, isn’t it?” She says, wiggling into her seat. 

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“I came all the way from Letterkenny. I had to get a bus at midnight. Imagine that. Took three hours overall. It’s desperate.”

“Mm.”

“Where are you coming from?”

“Clontarf. It’s like, fifteen minutes away.”

“Oh, lucky you!” She pulls down the table, but soon has to fix it back in place when the flight attendant coming to close the overhead lockers asks her to. The handbag is repacked and squeezed under the seat in front. 

She happily talks over the safety announcement. “I’m excited about this,” she whispers as the attendant demonstrates how to blow up the life vest. “I’m visiting my sister. She’s lived over in Berlin for years and years. She’s got a German husband. Gerhard, and I’d say the last time I visited, well, we were trying to figure it out together when I was on the phone with her. Was it eight years? When was… No, it was 2001…”

When the engines roar to life, and the plane begins its slow taxi across the runway, she produces a bag of sweets from her cardigan pocket. “For your ears?” she says. 

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” She rustles the bag, and I look. They’re lemon bonbons. I like those. 

“Yeah, actually, thanks,” I say, and pluck one from the packet. I haven’t yet decided if I can eat it while my stomach is so knotted up and queasy. Maybe I’ll just hold it.

“What’s bringing you to Berlin?” She says, as the plane rounds a wide corner to reveal the expanse of sky over the flat of north Dublin. 

“I’m moving, actually.”

“Oh! Wow, isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

“What has you going to Germany?”

“College,” I say, because it’s all I think I can say. Something is happening behind my face. I clench my fist around the lemon bonbon, sticky in my hot palm. 

“All on your own?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, well, it’s a big change, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You’ll miss your family and friends, won’t you? It’s not far, but you know how these things are. It’s never easy leaving home for the first time.”

“No.”

“You’re very brave.”

A murmuration of starlings cuts through the blue. “Mm. I suppose. I-” I break off as my voice catches. No. I think. Not here. So I blink, hard, but it can’t stop the tears coming, because they’ve been waiting, as though building behind a dam, and now at last, in the most inconvenient location on the planet, something has given. “I… um…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she produces a tissue and I take it, pinching it against the bridge of my nose while tears spill over and snot flows, my teeth bared. I can’t bear to look at her as she fusses over me, her hand stroking my sleeve. I sniff, and it’s loud, and thick, and humiliating. 

“Darling, you’ll be alright, c’mere, now, you can just let it all out.”

“Sorry.”

“No need.”

Like a mother, she murmurs vague, comforting sentiments as the tears pour, and build, and flood my vision until the view of Dublin blurs like wet paint. I sob until I think I’ll retch. The plane speeds along the runway, and lifts, and takes off into the sky, and I leave my little green island behind. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[shiratamahatsumiyo]

Daniel Park with Daki reader

I know that this seems annoying but thank you guys very much! 200 followers...Wow... I actually didn't think I'd reach this far... Also, thanks for putting up with my BS!

Warning: Swearing, Violence

• You met Big Daniel on his second week at school. You were absent on the first week because your Leader ordered you and your brother to attack certain gangs and collect information. You weren't informed that school already started a week ago. But then again, would you even care?

• When your classmates see that you're not present in class for days, half of the student body let out a huge wave of relieved sighs, thinking that you transferred schools while the other half kept it in, thinking that your absence is too good to be true. But when announcement you return was heard, Daniel was clueless on what was happening since everyone looked like they're preparing for a red-alert thunderstorm...

Zoe: "Hey Daniel! How was your weekend?"

Daniel: "It was great."

Zoe: "Really? I'm glad! You know, my weekend was so crazy! The--"

Random Student A, running: "EVERYONE UME SHABANA IS BACK!"

Random Student B: "W-WHAT?! THAT CAN'T BE..."

Random Student A: "I JUST SAW THEM STEPPING INTO THE BEAUTY DEPARTMENT!"

• Once the announcement of your return was shared, the students whispered to one another. Even Zack's goons are quivering. Mira and Zoe looked frightened at what they heard. Jay clenched his fist and a frown made its way to his face. Zack quickly repositioned his sitting posture and is sweating bullets. Meanwhile Daniel is just confused...

Random Student B: "Eh?! They still go here?! Dude, I thought they transferred 😱!"

Random Student C: "I knew this day would come...😔"

Random Student D: "We're totally fucked, man...😰"

Daniel: "U-um... I'm sorry if I don't know, but who's Ume Shabana?"

• Some of the girls stopped rushing and approach Daniel to explain but Zoe beat them to it.

Zoe: "Well you see, Daniel! U-uh...! Ume Shabana is a student in the Beauty Department--"

!!! C R A S H !!!

Zoe: "HOLY FUCK WHAT THE HELL WAS THA?-- I-i mean, eep! What was that?"

• The more the crashing from the across the hallways grew louder, the more the students shifted uncomfortably in their seats. A few students contemplated on grabbing their bags and just leave the classroom.

Random Student B: "Guys, who cares if we miss class?! They might remember that one mistake we did to them! I wanna live 😭!"

Random Student D: "W-what if it gets worse?! What if they bring their brother 😱?!"

Random Student B: "OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING! EVERYONE STAY CALM! STAY FUCKING CALM RIGHT NOW! DO NOT- DO! NOT! PANIC! E-EVERYTHING'S GOING TO BE FINE! I'M... I'M SURE THE TEACHERS ARE GONNA HANDLE IT!"

Random Student C: "You calm down first 😑."

! ! ! C R A S H ! ! ! ! ! ! C R A S H ! ! !......

????: "AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!"

Everyone: "!!!"

• The crashing sounds stopped and a girl's scream can be heard from the hallways. Everyone, including Daniel, rushed outside to see a rather beautiful but aggressive figure pulling on a girl's ear and shouting at her. A crowd of students from different departments gathered to witness the situation. They know that they couldn't bring your anger down so they can only watch as the girl struggled in pain against your grip...

Ume: "SHUT UP! DO YOU HAVE ANY WHAT YOU'VE DONE?!"

Freshman Girl: "I-i'm... I-i'm sorry-- OW!"

Ume: "IF YOU'RE SO SORRY THEN WHY DON'T YOU GIVE ME A REASON NOT TO THROW YOU OUT THIS WINDOW RIGHT NOW!"

• ...What? Did he heard that right? Out the window? Daniel's breath shortened and his body froze. Countless memories of him being bullied by his superiors, if not, even other students, flooded his mind. He experienced all the horrible things they did to him... Being treated like a pig. But even HE never thought of a person THIS cruel would go that far by throwing their own classmate out of a window and dealing with it like it's nothing.

• His body moved without him thinking and pushed the crowding students to make way to you. He grabbed the wrist of your hand that was dragging the sobbing girl before you could open a nearby window. You looked up at him and scowled.

Daniel: "H-hey..."

Ume: "Hah?"

Daniel: "Let go of her... P-please."

• The words were stuck at Daniel's throat when he met your piercing glare. The glare that screamed who's superior in terms of dominance. The young man didn't mean to sound pathetic but he had to, so that you won't do the unforgivable.

Ume: "And who are you to order me around, huh?"

Daniel, flinches: "U-um... i-"

Ume: "You're either bold or pretty stupid, walking up to me like that."

• Daniel's somewhat lack of fear made the girls squealed among themselves about how daring and bold he is while the guys are placing bets on who's going to die and who's going to walk out alive. Mira hurriedly went to the faculty room so that the situation wouldn't escalate any further. Some students started pulling out cameras to record the fight.

Random Student E: "AAAHH~! DANIEL~ 😫!"

Random Student F: "Who would've thought that this guy 😳..."

Random Student G: "Is so brave and courageous? Yes, he is~ 😍"

Random Student C: "Ugh, girls 🙄..."

Random Student B: "So who are betting on?"

Random Student D: "That Daniel guy seems capable."

Random Student B: "Yeah, y'know that one time he not only dodged Zack Lee's punches, he blocked it!"

Random Student D: "Oh yeah! I still rem--"

Zack: "I bet on Ume to take down that fucker."

Random Student B: "Crap, he heard us 😨!"

Random Student D: "Stop making us part of everyone's grudge list, man. Ume's is already bad enough 😔..."

• The sounds of noisy, horny, ugly women made your ears ring... This is irritating. The nerve of this idiot to...

Ume: "DON'T TOUCH ME."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Daniel: "!"

• Daniel didn't see the fist coming..........

Random Student B: "W-w-what the fuck 😱?!"

Random Student D: "He... With just one punch 😨?!"

Random Student C: "Oh shit, he's as good as dead 😔."

Random Student A: "E-even the wall... 😰!"

Zack: "Told ya he's a wimp. I won this bet."

Jay: "!"

Zoe: "DANNY!...Dan... Wake up!...call......where are .... Mira!.....eachers?!"

• Daniel felt his head ring and something warm and wet dripping down from his nose. The last thing he sees is Zoe screaming at his face and Jay lifting him up. Everything became blurry before going pitch black as he fell unconscious. He then wakes up in a familiar old house.

Small Daniel: "Mhh... Wha....HUH?!"

• Daniel immediately recognized his surroundings and realized that his bigger body is without conscious and he switched to his smaller body. He tried his best to fall back asleep but after a few hours, he couldn't. He searched in his belongings in a panic for his phone and put on a relaxing ambience video. A couple of attempts after that, he finally fell asleep.

• He finally wakes up in his bigger body with a headache. He blinked his eyes and sees that he's in an infirmary. He looked to the side to see the school nurses standing and admiring his sleeping face.

School Nurse A: "A-ah! He's awake... Sorry to disturb you~ Do you want to rest more 🤭?"

School Nurse B: "How are you feeling, handsome ☺️?"

Daniel: "Uhm... I'm fine, I gue- OW!"

School Nurse A: "Oh my! It seems that Shabana delinquent knocked you out pretty hard 😯..."

School Nurse B: "You shouldn't move so much. You have a cut on your forehead and a nasty bruise on the side 😧."

Daniel: "Sorry, ma'am."

School Nurse B: "Ohh, please! Don't call me "ma'am"! Call me by my name-"

School Nurse A: "He was talking to me 😠!"

School Nurse B: "No, me 😡!"

Daniel: "I wanted to ask... do you happened to know what happened?"

School Nurse A: "Uh well... you see, we heard that you were involved in a fight with Ume Shabana. You were hit-"

School Nurse B: "With one punch 😮!"

School Nurse A: "Yes, you were struck down with one punch- but it doesn't matter, you were trying to protect that girl, right ☺️?"

Daniel: "I-i was..."

School Nurse B: "OMG, you are such a sweetheart. I'm like, so jealous of her 😩."

School Nurse A: "Stop rambling, you dumbass 🙄."

• The nurses insisted that Daniel should rest more and that he's excused from his absence in class. The wall clock hits 5:00 PM, Zoe and Jay came to the infirmary to check up on Daniel. Zoe was fussing over him, reassuring him that he did nothing wrong and the attempt on trying to save the freshman girl was heroic. Jay just smiled, relieved that Daniel is okay. The blonde didn't say much and left. Just then, the freshman girl entered the infirmary with the intention to thank Daniel by giving him treats from the cafeteria. Zoe got a bit territorial despite her positive remark about saving her. Daniel thanked the girl and she left the infirmary skipping happily.

• Daniel asked Zoe what to the violent delinquent and she showed him a video from her phone....

• He couldn't believe it... He didn't even see how you punched him... You were so fast... Too fast... With just one punch, he collided with the wall. The impact was so great, it formed cracks on it... The side of his head was bleeding... You shoved the girl away and complained about Daniel thinking too highly of himself... At least you didn't drop the girl out the window... The video ended with your figure leaving and students gathering around him.

• After that encounter, he made a mental note to himself that no matter how his second body would help him overcome his fears, there will always be a person much more stronger than him. He started attending class a couple of days later. Every girl praised him of his action and even some of the boys acknowledged his boldness of facing you. However, some of them were pissed at him because some people are praising your stupidity.

• He the learned that you are not a person to be messed with. You are beautiful but deadly... reminding him of the obnoxious girls back in his previous school. You are hella strong too! Seriously, how are you so strong? It doesn't make sense that you beat him with just your fist. You also despise being around people of what you deemed unattractive and bully them. Maybe that's why you preferred to go to the Beauty Department. In contrast to your demonic strength, your gracefulness caught him off guard... He really thought that delinquents like you would look brash and intimidating. But perhaps that's another technique of tricking your opponent to think that you're not a fighter.

• You sometimes like to tease a flustered Daniel and flirted with him with a few death threats here and there, but you never meet him again after your brother told you not to. Meh, it's not like you like him or anything, it's just that you're reminding every girl in this school that no matter how attractive they are, the most handsome guys always look at you.

• Speaking of your brother, his impression of your older brother, Gyutaro, was also not so great... The first thing the tall and scary man does when he sees Daniel is threatening him that if he lays a hand on you, he will not be getting it back. The boy, not only kept a distance from you, he avoided you because of that.

• Figured out that the reason why you and your brother were not expelled is because the faculty is also intimidated by you. Whenever they caught you bullying a poor student, you'd change face and act innocently that you are in a particularly bad mood.

• Timeskip to the timeline where Daniel is formed an alliance with Jay, Zack, and Vasco. He figured out that you and your brother were part of a gang called the Twelve Kizuki and were one of the higher ranking ones. You two are fighting for that corrupt politician named Micha- Muzan Kibutsuji by making connections here in South Korea and controlling the districts. You just used disguises and names so that enemy gang members won't recognize you. Muzan ordered you two to eliminate every single person that witnessed their crimes, including Daniel and co.. Your third encounter with him takes place in a ruined building.

• Daniel made the same mistake of charging at you first. You disabled him swiftly even without using half of your power. You were about to dispatch him when his friends arrived to shield Daniel away from you. When the speed and strength of their attacks grew increasingly aggressive, you tried to flee away from the scene and called for your brother. Zack and Jay, albeit bleeding and bruised, quickly caught up to and tackled you before you could run away...

Zack: "Hey! We ain't letting you run away like a coward after we beat you fair and square."

Daki: "I-i wasn't running away! And I'm not a coward!"

Zack: "Pssh! Yeah, right! Not buying it!"

Daki: "I am NOT a coward! I am strong! Far stronger than you!"

Zack: "We literally tackled you to the ground! Which means we beat you!"

Daniel: "Z-Zack- you shouldn't-"

Daki, tearing up: "No... no, it can't be...! I'm one of the Twelve Kizuki! I'm one of the strongest members! I'm supposed to be strong--"

Vasco: "IT DOESN'T MATTER!"

Daki: "!"

Jay: "😶!"

Vasco: "... It doesn't matter how strong you are... As long as you keep training and keep protecting the little guys... Then you're the strongest!!! All you did was bully those who are weaker than you... It's wrong!!!"

Zack: "Woah... Vasco, calm down a bit..."

Vasco, crying: "... I still haven't forgotten about you bullying that Pyeon guy..."

Jay: "😶..."

• The scene went from violent, to childish, to dramatic in minutes. Vasco became too passionate of his statement and began tearing up. Daniel gave him a gentle pat on the back. You suddenly let out a shriek and started punching the ground.

Daki, bawling: "....WAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

Vasco, Daniel, Jay, & Zack: "😨😧😦😮!"

Daki: "IT'S NOT FAAAAIIIRR! I AM REALLY STRONG! YOU WERE THE ONE'S THAT CHEATED!! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LOSE!!...*sob*.... WAAAAHHH!!! I'VE BEEN DEFEATED!! THIS SUCKS!! I LOOOSSST!! WAAAAHHH!!!"

Vasco: "...H-huh?"

Zack: "Are they...?"

Jay: "😶...?"

Daniel: "... throwing a tantrum?"

Daki: "BROTHER! HELP ME!"

!!!!!!!!!!!!

• Cue Gyutaro suddenly appearing behind them. They dodged his strike but he still made a beeline to you. He checked on your injuries and comforted you until your crying stopped. Meanwhile the guys at the back are just weirded out. This guy responded to your call and rushed to you so fast that their eyes couldn't keep up! Which means that he is far more deadlier and stronger than you. He sicced them like they were prey and he was the predator. Expressing envy, hatred, malice and rooted it to his rapid assault. He tortured them and cackled at their pained cries in a morbidly sadistic manner.

• It took them their entire knowledge of skills, the entire night and the entirety of the Burn Knuckles to take just the two of you down... The ruined building that all of you were fighting in has already collapsed its second floor... The pillars are barely holding up... All of them are fatigued and injured, but are still fighting... And on the crack of dawn, they finally defeat both of you.

Daki: "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Gyutaro: "MY FAULT?! DON'T BLAME ME FOR YOUR MISTAKES!"

Daki: "I THOUGHT YOU HAD MY BACK!!"

Gyutaro: "YOU SHOULD'VE GOTTEN THAT BLONDE GUY A HOLE THROUGH THE FACE AND THAT'S THAT!!"

Daki: "WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE NO CHANCES AND JUST SLAUGHTERED THEM IMMEDIATELY ON THE SPOT?!"

Gyutaro: "I WAS PROTECTING YOU, DUMBASS!"

Daki: "WELL, LOOK AT US RIGHT NOW, JACKASS! BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY YOU FAILED!!"

Gyutaro: "YOU FAILED AT GETTING RID AT THE VERY LEAST TWO OF THEM!"

Daki: "I'VE BEATEN HUNDREDS OF THESE KNUCKLEHEADS! ALL YOU DID WAS PLAYING WITH YOUR PREY!! YOU LET BOTH OF US DOWN!!!"

Gyutaro: "SHUT UP!"

Daki: "YOU SHUT UP!"

• During your arguement, Daniel and Vasco ordered everyone to safety now that the building is starting to collapse its walls and third floor. Daniel looked at your direction and looked back at Vasco. Vasco was unsure of what Daniel intended to do with you but he knows that it's wrong to leave you here to die. So he joined Daniel and carried the two of you outside before the building finally break down. You and your brother argued and argued until...

Daki: "....I wish you were never my brother..."

Gyutaro: "....."

Daki: "Look at us... We don't even look the same...I bet we aren't even related... I bet you made up that story of mom abusing me... I'm better off without you... You're ugly... your only saving grace is your strength!... Now that you've been beaten, you're useless! ....I WISH WE WERE NEVER SIBLINGS."

Gyutaro: "...After all these years of cleaning up your messes... THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME?! I PROTECTED YOU FROM THAT HAG BEFORE SHE COULD LAY A HAND ON YOU!! I WORKED HARD SO THAT BOTH OF US CAN SURVIVE ANOTHER DAY!!! I JOINED THE TWELVE KIZUKI TO GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE!!!!"

• Everyone looked at you in disbelief that the two of you still have the stamina to argue. You just sit there with your dislocated limbs while your brother spat insults at your face. You've never seen your brother this angry before... he sounds like he's been holding all of these emotions in for a long time. Daniel's body once again moved on its own...

Gyutaro: "I AM FAR BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOUR IMMATURE ATTITUDE DRAGGING ME DOWN... I COULD HAVE HAD A BETTER FUTURE WITHOUT YOU.... I WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN--"

• Gyutaro stopped his outpour of emotions with a sudden hand gesture of Daniel covering the ugly man's mouth.

Daniel: "... I may not know what it's like to have a sibling, but I know that what you are doing to each other is wrong... you don't mean all those things. You are siblings through and through, even if the world turns its back on you, you still got each other. Despite all the bad things you did, no one will be on your side except your family... You must stick together and protect each other."

Daki, bawling: "....WAAAAHHH!!!"

Daniel: "U-um! I'm sor--"

Daki: "SHUT UP! GO AWAY!! GET LOST!!! NONE OF THIS IS ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS!!! THIS SUUUUCKS!!! BROTHER!!!"

• The others watched awkwardly as you cried. Daniel is frantically trying to get you to calm down. Huh, who would've thought that THE Ume Shabana the most beautiful, the most graceful, the most deadliest, one of the strongest foe they faced in Jaewon High... Is actually a crybaby?

Daki: "BROTHEEEER!!! DO SOMETHING!!! WHAT IF LORD MUZAN WILL SCOLD ME?! WHAT IF HE'LL NEVER TALK TO ME AGAIN BECAUSE I'M UGLY NOW?!! I DON'T WANT THAT TO HAPPEEENN!!! BROTHEEEER!!!"

Gyutaro: "........Ume."

Daki: "WAAAAHHH!!! I'M SORRY THAT WE LOST!!!! I SHOULD'VE DONE BETTER!!! I I'M SO SORRY THAT I'VE BEEN DRAGGING YOU DOWN!!!! SO PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!"

Gyutaro: "UME."

Daki: "JUST PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE!!! IF YOU DO I WON'T FORGIVE YOU!!! I STILL WANT US TO BE SIBLINGS!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!! "

Gyutaro: "UME!"

Daki: "!"

Gyutaro: "....I forgive you...and I'm...sorry too."

Daki: "WAAAAHHH!!! I FORGIVE YOU!!!!"

Zack: ".... Shouldn't we be...?"

Vasco, tearing up: "This moment is manly."

Zack: "What the hell is so manly about it?"

Jay: "☺️."

• So that's how your relationship with Daniel developed. It has rocky start but it's progress! You were shocked when Daniel, Vasco, Jay, Zack and the Burn Knuckles forgave both of you and your brother and even offered you to join them. Your thoughts went to the memories of your dear Leader. Oh, how you want to be by his side, but now that you've failed, he will throw you away regardless. But you still have your brother with you and your new... Friends? Acquaintances? Whatever. You left the Twelve Kizuki and allied with Daniel. It'll probably take decades to repent for your wrongdoings but at least you have your brother with you.

• A new dawn rises for you and your brother. You've always hated the daytime for how bright it is, but this time it's different. Your demons shall burn away in the light along with your hatred and wrath. Daki is in the past, defeated and burned in Hell.

• You are now Shiraume. No matter how many times you'll be reborn, you will walk with your brother for all eternity.

Daniel: "What are you going to do after all this?"

Gyutaro: "...Stay low for a while. Even if we hand ourselves to the police, Muzan will use his connections to find where we are and kill us."

Daniel: "I guess that's the safest option."

Vasco: "Ume."

Shiraume: "Ugh, it's Shiraume. What?"

Vasco: "Your apology to Pyeon-"

Shiraume: "Right. I'll do it, sheesh."

[lancerliterature]

Just Relax

pairing: young john f. kennedy/reader

summary: the summer before his graduate program at stanford, jack kennedy brings his new fiancée, president roosevelt's niece, out on a sailboat for some much-needed alone time.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: 18+, smut, some swearing, mildly dubious consent

taglist: @raspberryknees @saturns-flowers @vlyofthedolls @fortheloveofjos @h-l-vlovesvintage @astro-vibes-bro @neverellaxx7 @maudesgf @southernpopprincess @melancholicstation @secretwonderlandcheesecake @kennediva

a/n: first of all, thank you as always to @vintagedebutante for the beautiful moodboard photos!

this fic’s based on a request i got a while ago for jack to be in an arranged kind of marriage with another socialite! i know it's short 😫 but i'm planning on posting another fic in the next few weeks. i hope you all enjoy this one!!

You’re watching Jack Kennedy sail his boat—how his flexing muscles shimmer like knots of cinnamon in the white sun, the way his golden-red hair ruffles around his ears in the fresh late-morning wind, the way his face glows pink from exertion and every few minutes he’ll mutter something like, “Easy now, just like that, there we are” while easing the long wooden tiller back and forth—when, suddenly, the boat rolls over a particularly big wave and you start slipping from your perch at the edge of the deck.

But before you even know what’s happening, Jack’s long, heroic arm comes swooping across your waist to yank you back to safety just as you’re about to tip overboard.

“I‘ve got you, I’ve got you.” You feel his voice, urgent but still self-assuredly calm, on your neck. Then you feel his hot, furry thighs as you stumble back—or what’s more likely is that he’s purposely pulling you—into his lap.

A quiet groan escapes you. This is the last thing you need. The whole reason you left the cockpit to go sit at the far edge of the boat in the first place was to try and put some distance between yourself and him.

“Are you alright?” he asks then, scorching you with one of those slow, coaxing smiles as he looms over you.

“I’m fine,” you say, and you realize from the sound of your voice that you’re a little breathless—but whether that’s from the aftershock of almost falling or the jittery thrill of being pressed against him, you aren’t entirely sure.

This little voyage at sea is the longest you two have ever been completely alone together. Sure, you’ve been technically alone for hours in places like the cinema hall or a restaurant on all of those ridiculous “dates” your families would send the two of you on so you could be photographed together before they announced your engagement, but this is different. You’re truly alone, without another soul in sight. 

Normally when you two find yourselves truly alone like this, it’s only for a few minutes while Jack drives you home from one of those “dates,” and it doesn’t take long before neither of you can handle the tension any longer and he’s pulling over and unbuttoning your blouse. And you’re pretty sure he was envisioning something along those lines when he invited you and you alone out onto his boat the second his family’s breakfast picnic ended. 

Of course, you’re envisioning that, too. How could you not? For almost a half-hour now, you’ve been forced to watch him in all his masculine glory, commanding the sea against the backdrop of the shiny Kennedy mansion on the horizon and the flapping American flag on their beachside lawn. It’s stunning, the way Jack looks like the total embodiment of the youthful, all-American manhood that he and his brothers symbolize to so many. And the fact that he just rescued you certainly isn’t making matters any easier—because what you also can’t help but envision is the scandalous story that would smear across the society column of every major newspaper if an innocent, neighborly passerby boat happened to catch you and Jack with your hands all over each other in public, before you were married, no less. Your reputation would be in ruins. Your mother genuinely might never speak to you again.

The entire world, it sometimes seems, has been involved in every last little day-to-day moment of your courtship with Jack ever since your families first formally introduced you at a dinner party over a year ago now. But that’s the whole point, you suppose, behind two of the most famous families in America betrothing their two eldest children to each other. And now that, as of last month, you and Jack are officially engaged, the country waits with bated breath for the union between the handsome Kennedy celebrity—who, come autumn, will be galavanting off for his glamorous first semester as a graduate student at Stanford, where he’ll likely mingle among a swath of California’s finest singers and matinee idols—and you. If anyone asked, you would say that the most notable thing about you is that you’ve just finished your freshman year at Radcliffe College. A few years ago, you were dubbed “President Roosevelt’s favorite niece” by the New York Times, but in all honesty, you don’t actually have any reason to believe that your uncle prefers you over any of your cousins.

But still, under no circumstances, you tell yourself, will you let Jack make any sort of move on you out here on this boat. At least one of you needs to have your priorities straight.

“I told you not to sit up there, didn’t I?” Jack is saying when you snap out of your thoughts, tilting his chin toward the edge of the deck where, moments ago, you were peacefully sitting. “Remember this next time you decide not to listen to me.”

You can’t help but crane your neck back to try and study his face for some hint as to what he’s really feeling behind all the sarcasm. Does he pity you for almost tumbling overboard? Or does he think this whole situation is just plain funny? Though either one would be sufficiently humiliating, you’re sort of hoping that, whatever he’s thinking, it’s now distracting him from any dirty thoughts.

But, alas, he’s wearing his big, circular sunglasses, so it’s really no use trying to read him. Unlike the rest of his features, his eyes are always so full of soul and emotion, and whenever you can’t see them, he suddenly becomes so distant, like a calculating secret agent who’s completely anonymous to everyone he keeps tabs on yet somehow knows all of their darkest secrets.

Your spine tightens then when you hear the faint chug of another boat cruising by, but thankfully, when you turn to look, you realize it’s not coming close enough for anyone on board to see you in Jack’s lap. Nevertheless, you twist out of Jack’s arms, landing with a soft thud beside him on the wooden bench.

Jack chuckles then, a deep, slightly dark sound. You blow your bangs out of your eyes, trying your best to seem nonchalant while sparks go off inside of you at the sound of his laugh.

“Why’d you wanna sit so far from me, anyway, huh?” he asks, sidling closer simply because he knows perfectly well that you don’t want him to.

The sharp contrast between his dark glasses and the bright, sun-reflecting tape across the freckled bridge of his nose is suddenly making your eyes burn, and you stare down at your sandals. You start to open your mouth to remind him that now isn’t the time or place to do whatever he’s thinking of doing—but your voice dries out in your throat as he places his hand on your thigh and gives it a soft, playful squeeze. Oh, boy, you think. Here we go.

“What’s wrong?” Jack murmurs with exaggerated concern, an electric sound that’s followed immediately by the dangerous, hair-raising sizzle of his lips on your exposed neck. You suck in a sharp breath of air. “Afraid somebody’s gonna see us?”

He moves your hair to the side and kisses your neck again. And again. You know you should move away but the heat from his chest has welded your body to the bench beneath you.

When he speaks again, his voice is suddenly lower and quieter than before, like there’s something inside of him that he, too, is now trying to suppress, to wrangle into control.

“There’s no need to worry,” he says. “If there’s a photo of me bending you over the deck in The Post tomorrow, I’ll make sure none of the blame falls on you. I’ll say I grabbed you and you tried your best to get away but I just wouldn’t let you go.”

He chuckles again, and then, when you sense him suddenly pulling away, you can’t help but feel a clench of disappointment.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach up into the sails and bring the boat to a complete standstill in a whirlwind of brisk, whooshing movements. Then you’re being heaved onto his lap again, facing him this time, your knees thumping against the bench on either side of his legs.

You let out a small, shuddering laugh, pressing your hands to his chest. “Oh, come now, Kennedy,” you say. “As romantic as it sounds, we can’t actually—”

He cuts you off by popping open the button on your shorts.

You’re suppressing a grin as you try your best to push away from him, to squeeze your thighs closed. But his big hands close tightly around your hips, and in a sudden flash of riled-up aggression, he jolts you still with one sharp, warning movement. Almost immediately, you can feel bruises start to form under his fingertips, which makes your stomach somersault.

“Keep still, Y/N,” Jack groans between clenched teeth, the corners of his mouth fighting off a smirk. “Christ. You’re killing me.”

Left with no other choice, you settle back down into his lap, and you quickly realize exactly what he meant by “You’re killing me.” The inside of your thigh brushes against a bulge in his pants that, you can only assume, was created by the friction from all your inadvertent grinding against him.

A shaky gasp leaves your lips then as his long, knuckly finger slips inside your zipper. When that same finger starts to move in slow circles over your clit, your head falls back and you breathe “God dammit, Jack” to the sky.

“Listen,” Jack says into your skin while he kisses across the length of your collarbone, “I promise nobody’s gonna see us. We’re far enough out.”

He brings his free hand to cup your breast over your shirt, and your head tilts forward. Your forehead smushes against his, which, strangely, is kind of soothing. You take the opportunity to let out a deep breath.

“That’s it, kid,” Jack says, his teeth brushing against your lips. “Just relax.”

Into his mouth, you whisper the words, “I hate you.”

One of his eyebrows twitches up over his sunglasses. “Yeah?” he says, and he suddenly sounds even more feverishly out-of-breath than you are. “You hate me, huh?”

He laughs as his finger increases its pressure, and a wave of pleasure so intense you feel like you could vomit cracks through your body. So much for trying to relax. Your mouth falls open, and as you gasp his name, you notice his mouth going slack, too, as he watches yours. An odd, gratifying tingle shoots down your back.

He increases the pressure again. “How does that feel?” he asks, blinding you with the cocky glint of his teeth. When you don’t respond—because your deep-seated competitive side won’t give him the satisfaction—he closes your clit between his thumb and pointer finger in a gentle pinch.

You can’t do anything but groan as that watery pressure starts to reach a breaking point between your legs. 

In a last-ditch attempt to gain some semblance of control over the situation, you shove those god-forsaken sunglasses up off his face and back into his thick tangle of hair. But his eyes are so bright and so full of what looks to be some sort of boyish, appreciative awe as he looks up at you that, once again, you’re rendered stunned and powerless. You’re briefly reminded of that old John Buchan quote you always felt described Jack perfectly: “He disliked emotion, not because he felt lightly, but because he felt deeply.”

“Soon,” Jack says then, as if he’s been waiting to say this until his sunglasses were off and he could truly look you in the eye, “we’ll have our own house and the rest of our lives to be alone every single day.”

The sun starts to melt out from behind a cloud, and Jack’s eyes crease adorably around the edges as he squints up at you. You aren’t quite sure how to respond to his uncharacteristically sentimental remark, but in the end, you don’t have to. You hit your climax right at that moment—you aren’t sure exactly why. But suddenly your whole body is trembling, and you’re gasping his name into his neck, sinking your teeth into his stubbly skin, digging your nails into his shoulders. You feel his throat vibrating as he groans along with you.

Just then, you hear another sailboat come putzing by—and this one sounds only a hundred or so feet away. Immediately, you’re ripped from the throes of ecstasy. You sit back up, heart jumping into your throat so fast you almost choke. You feel Jack tense up, too.

But then the man at the helm of the boat waves and shouts hello, and you feel Jack relax.

“Ah,” Jack says. “It’s just old Mr. Newman. He can’t see well. Completely harmless.”

“Are you kids behaving yourselves?” Mr. Newman shouts jovially across the glittering water.

“Always, Mr. Newman,” Jack says, pulling his hand out of your shorts to wave back.

thank you for reading!!

[triptanite]

Arabellan Dry

Rolan fuckers I thank you for your patience - thought we could do with something a little light hearted after the angst of my first post :') enjoy

This is adjacent to the Speak to Me post (which I'll be turning into more of a chapter series over time) but you don't have to read either for the other to make sense

Pairing: Rolan X reader

Content warning/s: none

MASTERLIST

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"I like them. Your horns." You profess, absentmindedly. You take in the details up close, refusing to look down where you're sure he would be looking up at you.

"You'd be the first." Rolan swallows hard, his glass bone dry.

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You squint at the faded label of the liquor bottle. It lays heavy in your hand, one of dozens procured by your party during your travels.

Arabellan Dry

Little flakes of wax seal crumble onto your fingers as you crack the top, and you sniff the contents with caution. A little more sour than you'd like, but you've certainly has worse. You take a hefty first sip, a familiar burn lacing down your throat and into your chest. You wince and ponder how people actually like this stuff. The scent lingers on your breath now, and your wandering eyes land on the tiefling you'd been avoiding since the party started.

It wasn't that you hadn't wanted to see him. No, quite the opposite. It was only recently that you'd returned to the Emerald Grove bloodied and bruised, a gentle giant druid at your side and victory in your veins. The rest of the day therein was filled with a flurry of conversations that you couldn't remember. Your body was exhausted, your brain a blur. Tieflings, druids, so many mixed emotions. You remember being thanked, being scolded, wiping goblin viscera off your weapons, eating gruel.

One thing you do recall was the golden gaze of one tiefling wizard; Rolan. Your brief conversation is lost somewhere in your mind between the sleeping tadpole and the likely head trauma from battle, but you remember those eyes. The high of combat made your hands quiver. It took most of your attention to will your body to calm, weakening your listening skills.

Now, rather than adrenaline alone, your blood buzzes with dry red wine.

Shadowheart's gaze catches yours over her own goblet of something undoubtedly strong. She smirks, gesturing her head towards Rolan and his siblings. Mischief twinkles in her eyes, and you resist the urge to roll yours in response. Shadowheart tips her cup back, draining the contents, and mimicks for you to do the same.

You glance down. Your face looks back at you at an unflattering angle in the deep red. It's unclear whether it's the colour of the wine or if you really are that flushed in the cheeks. Looking back up, you bring your chalice up in a silent toast to your friend.

Fuck it.

You gulp down your drink with little elegance. Courage, Sharran-style.

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"Patience. Have you no respect for showmanship?" Rolan chides his siblings as he cracks his knuckles.

Oh, that voice. Low and warm and boastful, like velvet.

Your head swims slightly as you approach. You focus very hard on keeping your feet from crossing over. Perhaps you'd overestimated your drinking abilities.

"Having performance issues Rolan?" Cal heckles. Your stifled giggle announces your presence, and Cal waves you down in greeting.

"Hush you, now..." Rolan replies, eyes quickly flicking over you before he braces himself. "Behold!"

A gorgeous burst of glittering light manifests in the air like a firework. You stare in child-like awe, and find yourself clapping genuinely. Finally, Rolan turns his attention to you.

"Adoring applause? You're too kind." He bows, smiling.

"Humble as ever, Rolan." You bow at the waist in mock-servitude, just catching your balance.

"Remember when he could hardly cast that?" Lia laughs.

"They grow up so fast."

You procure a handkerchief from one of your pockets, dabbing your eyes in jest. Cal sobs like a proud mother, patting his own tear-less eyes.

"Never have I met such troglodytes. Now, pass the wine." Rolan extends a hand towards Lia, not an ounce of venom in his words.

"Don't suppose you have any tricks to one-up Rolan the Great?" Cal asks as you join their log seat. You run your finger around the rim of your empty chalice, thinking. The atmosphere is familiar and calming, you feel your shoulders relax.

"Afraid not, although I've been told I have two incredible left feet on the dance floor. I'm sure that's worth something."

"Ha! I'd like to see that." Lia chides, having produced a small loaf of bread to accompany her drink. Quick as lightning, Cal reaches over and plucks a chunk out of Lia's hand and into his own mouth. She flicks one of his horns in annoyance.

"Needs cheese, Lia." Cal nods thoughtfully.

"Thanks, Cal." She responds in the same tone, "Show me where the good stuff is and I'll snag more bread from the table."

"Deal. Rolan, mind my drink, yeah?"

Before you or Rolan can catch up with their conversation, the two are already off. Lia laughs as she holds the remainder of the loaf high out of Cal's reach.

"Idiots." Rolan chuckles affectionately. He looks good when he smiles, when he's relaxed, you notice.

"Can't live with them, can't live without them." You agree, pointing your head towards some of your companions.

You spot Volo holding Astarion a conversational hostage, the very picture of disinterest on his pale face. As Cal passes by, carefully balanced stack of cheese wedges in his arm, Astarion ropes him into the chat and makes a smooth escape. Cal looks helplessly around but it's too late. Volo has brought out a quill and several hundred questions, it seems. You laugh, drunk on moments of normalcy after weeks of planning and fighting and surviving.

"What are you drinking tonight?" Rolan asks, a glass goblet half-full of something dark and red in his grasp. There's an easy smile on his face.

"It was Arabellan Dry," You tilt your hand to show it's emptiness, "Although, I've discovered that I may be more of an ale person."

"It does have a bit of a bite," Rolan laughs. You eye his pointed teeth, wondering if he does too. "I suppose it's more my thing than yours. Not to worry though. With the amount that you and your companions have borrowed during your adventure, I'm sure there'll be something there you'll like."

"You look good, Rolan," You admit, a little too tipsy to catch yourself. "Good-happy, you look happy. It suits you."

It's hard to see with the red hue of his skin and the dark light of night, but you swear you see a flush crawl up his neck and towards his cheeks.

"Ah, thank you." He stammers just slightly, golden eyes raking over your face, "You as well. I imagine that's the glow of victory on you."

"Well, that and the good company." You cast your eyes around your camp again. People are talking, drinking, dancing. Scratch is zipping between people like it's a race to get as many pets as possible. The air smells deliciously of campfire wood smoke. You hope it never washes out of your hair. "It feels safe here, even if only for a moment. I like seeing my friends just enjoy something. I think we all deserve to let off a bit of steam. I'm certain I'm still washing goblin smell out of my clothes."

As you turn back to your conversation, you catch Rolan's lingering eyes. He looks slightly out of sorts, like he was half-listening. At his lack of response, you brush imaginary dirt from your forehead.

"Something on my face?" You chuckle, only slightly self-conscious.

"No," Rolan startles back to reality, sounding somewhat embarassed. He hesitates a moment, gulping down a healthy amount of wine before continuing, "I just, I understand what you mean. Not necessarily for the bard and the druid, but for Cal and Lia. All things considered, I'm glad you asked us to stay."

"I expect it'll make a good story for Lowakkan."

"Lorroakan."

"That's the one! Looking forward to Baldur's gate, I assume?"

"Oh you've no idea." Rolan grins wide, all of his excitement tensing up in his shoulders. Noticing that his siblings are otherwise occupied, he sits himself down next to you. He's so close that you can feel his body warmth against your side. There are fine lines around his eyes that crinkle when he smiles. He smells like the campfire and something vaguely herbal. Your head swims again.

"Something on my face?" Rolan teases, breaking you out of your staring trance as you realise with embarassment that he was still talking.

"No! Sorry, please go on."

"It's all right," He laughs, draining the last of his wine, "I think it comes with being a wizard. The talking, that is."

"Should I expect Lorroakan to be chatty too, then?" You ask genuinely, turning your body to face more towards him. Your knees knock against his and neither of you make an effort to move away.

"I hope so, I want to hear everything he has to say. He's going to make me the best wizard in Faerûn, I bet my robes on it."

"He can hardly make you into something you already are," You nudge him, making a gesture similar to his when he did his glittering light spell earlier.

"You flatter me," He laughs. You feel your chest swell a little. You think that you could come up with every cheesy compliment in the book if it made him laugh like that. "Though I will admit, it's not easy to even get to that point with most. People see my appearance and in their ignorance miss out on something spectacular."

He boasts, but his tone is tinged with something more. Genuine hurt, sadness. You eye your arms and legs, more exposed in your casual wear than your armour of late. Though you'd been given several new scars and gashes, you supposed most people greeted you as an adventurer. You weren't a tiefling like Rolan, like Cal, like Lia. Ironically, you felt sorry for people who would had never heard Cal's quick humour or his incredible mediating skills. You felt angry at the thought of them not taking Lia seriously - her fierce determination and loyalty, her compassion, her resolve.

"Ignorance is right," You nod, "Their loss for not having met you, or Cal or Lia. You're destined for greatness, I can sense it. Even if you are stubborn as an ox and have awful taste in wine."

"Flattery, insult, and a pep talk? I should join you more often." He scoffs lightly, adjusting some loose strands of hair that have curled around his horns. "Though I'll need you to tell me when I look dishevled. People already take one look at my head and move aside, I don't need to look like I've fought an ogre and lost too-dammit!" His claw tangles into a knot in his hair, and you notice his voice slurring slightly and fingers fumbling.

Looks like Arabellan Dry hits everyone hard and fast.

You place your cup down and stifle a laugh. Looking into his eyes, you raise your hands up towards his head.

"May I?"

Rolan stops losing the fight with his hair for a second. He looks taken aback and relieved in equal measure . He nods, electing not to speak, and you swear he looks a little shy as he does.

You reach up, vision blurring your two hands into four, then back into two again. Gently, you untangle Rolan's hair, smoothing it back where it usually sweeps around his horns. You untuck his fingers, and he softly grasps your hand in his as you brush against the base of one curved horn.

"I like them. Your horns." You profess, absentmindedly. You take in the details up close, refusing to look down where you're sure he would be looking up at you.

"You'd be the first." Rolan swallows hard, his glass bone dry.

You aren't lying, you have always been fascinated by the diversity of body parts in Faerûn. Tiefling horns, Dragonborn tails, cambion wings. Having appendages typical of a human meant that you'd only ever admired from afar - not wanting to risk offending or overstepping. But basking in the dim moonlight, wine in your veins, and the permission of your friend and ally; well, it would be a shame not to revel a little in the moment.

You press the pads of your fingers against the side of one horn, unsure of how much feeling it might have. You move slowly, allowing plenty of time for Rolan to interject with that assertive tone you hear so often from him. It's smooth, but textured with ridges and grooves. It reminds you of the tusk of an elephant or the curled horn of a ram.

Rolan's breath hitches, his free hand clutching so hard at his cup that it might shatter. You lighten your touch, realising with horror that you might be making him uncomfortable. His hand stills, remaining atop yours, keeping you there without force.

"Sorry, is this okay? Should I stop?" You ask genuinely, frantically.

You finally cast your eyes down, eyelids heavy. Blood rushes through your face at breakneck speed, swelling your cheeks rosy. He meets your gaze, his own golden eyes slightly glazed from the alcohol. His voice comes out in a low whisper, nervous, curious.

"No, it's okay. You don't have to stop."

"But do you want me to?"

You can practically hear the cogs turning in Rolan's brain. His cheeks are flaming red and the heat from his skin could singe off your eyebrows. You're not really any better, heart hammering like your chest was a forge. You've got tunnel vision, just about forgetting that you're at a lake-side camp with your friends and not in an isolated dreamscape on the Astral Plane. Rolan seemingly finds his words, opening his mouth to reply when you're both accosted by a jostle and the smell of baked goods.

"Remind me never to rely on you two for rescue, you're useless!" Cal admonishes you both. You and Rolan snap away from each other like you've been burnt. "I was stuck talking to Volo for ages."

"Oh my gods, Cal, is that you? Why, you must've aged about a century since I last saw you!" Lia gasps, plucking Rolan's chalice from his grip and replacing it with a small wicker basket full of bread. "You all right? Rolan's not giving you a hard time is he?"

"No, no! Of course not," You stammer, giving your most convincing attempt to appear casual, "What did you guys end up finding? Did you raid a picnic island or something? You've got enough cheese to feed an all-out mouse army."

"Well despite being prisoner to Volo for twelve tenday, I managed to get something useful out of him. Apparently this cheese is best with grapes, so I got grapes, and then this one is a dessert cheese? So I think we should try that last. Oh, and this one..."

You tune Cal out slightly as he pulls wedge after wedge of various dairy products from a basket lined with cheesecloth.

"You and Rolan been drinking from the same cup?" Lia asks you, the ghost of a smirk on her mouth.

"Pardon?" You practically squeak, voice an octave higher than normal.

"The Dry? You both stink of it," She laughs. Lia pinches a slightly crumbly block of a harder cheese from Cal and hands it to you with a slice of a crusty bread. "Here, it's good for sharing."

Your face burns as you try to decipher how serious she's being. Rolan looks just as embarassed at the exchange, tight-lipped like he doesn't trust his tongue. You split the block in half and offer some to Rolan to break the tension.

"Want some?" You ask, almost shyly.

Your hands touch again, and you're certain you're both as transparent as a window to Lia.

"I would love some, thank you." He replies, a little too stiff to be convincing. Turns out you both have something in common, you're terrible actors.

Lia eyes you, all three of you picking up on the silent conversations that seem to be happening simultaneously.

"Oh! That's a good one," Cal interjects, "Volo says that one goes best with Arabellan Dry."

You lose your composure, giving into a fit of laughter as you raise your empty cup in agreement. You're drunk; whether that's on wine or embarassment or exhilaration you can't tell.

But given the company you're currently in, you don't mind not knowing just yet.

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Ta da! Took a little while of coming back to this one every few days but I think it turned out sweet. Looking forward to writing more Rolan already - take care :3

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 3 - A Manageable Situation

ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ

Summary: As LaCroix brings Vincent home to Venture Tower, each one has a very simple plan. Surely all will go well.

TW: mind control, emotional manipulation, kidnapping

Vincent drifted through the city of angels, a prisoner in his own body. Bars and restaurants and strip clubs flashed past in neon and chain link and rain-drenched concrete. The downpour did nothing to stifle the city stench, but rather enhanced it. The air was too warm, too humid, the look of palms and alien plants more unfamiliar than it should have been, given that he’d watched American movies. But everything looked different in person. He had been to the states before, but never the west coast. It occurred to him, in fact, that he was probably farther from Versailles than he’d ever been.

By the clock on the dash, it was just past 8 PM local time. The whole night lay ahead of them. And LaCroix was just getting started, taking his “early” business calls in the front seat as the city’s nightlife shook itself awake. Meanwhile, Vincent fought against the hunger and exhaustion that had not been properly addressed for days even before he was taken.

With Sebastian’s concentration slipping to other concerns, Vincent’s numbed emotions were slipping back into the pit of his stomach, where they tied themselves into an aching knot. Horror was there, in nightmarish quantity, but so was hope - a feverish, desperate kind of hope. This was not the time to panic, but to plan. This was really a very manageable situation, all things considered. “No one is looking for you because no one knows you are missing.” He kept repeating those words to himself. LaCroix was quite right. All he had to do was contact someone. Even being seen alive in public might be enough. And then everyone would be looking for him. And they’d take him away. And LaCroix would be so devastated…pictures of him kept intruding into Vincent’s mind, crying over Vincent, losing him, missing him. There was some overwhelming desire to see LaCroix utterly pathetic on his account. It wasn’t ideal to be so fixated on LaCroix, but…better to hate him than to love him. In the midst of this feeling, it was possible to dream of escape, and so he clung to it.

He’d been directly commanded not to jump out of the vehicle, but he rested his forehead against the glass, hoping to be seen as the streetlamps passed over him in cycling flashes of yellow. But they were, of course, moving too quickly for anyone to recognize him, even if any of the passersby somehow knew who he was. Without any incident, the car came to a stop in front of an enormous skyscraper which LaCroix announced as Venture Tower.

The building itself seemed hostile, designed for intimidation. What kind of a man flanked his doorway with these god-awful Modernist figures of what Vincent could only describe as emaciated shadow people? It was chilling, but in such an unsophisticated way, like hoisting up a head on a pike for all to see. He wondered if they were meant to represent those Sebastian had drained of blood. He tried to play off his shudder of body horror as mere aesthetic disgust. “How is it that you lived through Romanticism without absorbing a single one of its artistic principles? It was wasted on you.”

LaCroix’s eyes widened and Vincent realized too late that he’d given himself away. Until now, the Prince probably thought he was still under full domination. “Already running your mouth again? Extraordinary, how you break free. So much so, in fact, that I’ll indulge you.” He gestured to the dismal grey lobby that would have been better suited to a penitentiary. “I change with the times and the requirements of leadership. It’s called branding, Vincent, and it saves lives. You’ll find the penthouse better suited to your tastes, but there’s no reason for the masses to see how I furnish my own living space. They have a tendency to start lopping off heads when they see too much open gaudiness…or firing bullets through skulls, as the case may be.” The Prince eyed Vincent’s embroidered greatcoat pointedly, as if that had been the sole reason for Wick’s dispute with him.

But he hadn’t stolen Vincent’s voice again, and that was something. Better try for a compliment, keep him talking.

“It does make for a brutal spectacle, at least, which is its own sort of…functionality.” His eyes were fixed on the elevator’s emergency call button, and his mind on the phone at the front desk of the lobby. His own cell phone had been confiscated at some point in his unconsciousness. Who was carrying it? LaCroix, or the Sheriff?

LaCroix nodded, no doubt pleased with his own advice. That confident smile, the way his mouth curled back against his fangs…Vincent suddenly felt like he had lost command of himself again. It was so difficult to look at this man without wanting to crush him to pieces. “You’ll learn a great deal with me, Vincent. I’m offering you an opportunity, to serve the interests of the Camarilla, to rule over LA at my side…and eventually much more than that, as your regnant’s hold expands.”

An opportunity to serve. How enticing. Vincent physically bit his tongue until his irritation subsided before replying. “Do you take me for a fool, LaCroix? I know what it means to share power, and it does not interest me.”

“How unfortunate. Then you will have none. You’ve lost your privileges again.”

A violent jolt of compulsion followed, stronger than anything on the aircraft. He was a passenger in his body again for the remainder of the elevator ride. He drifted powerless into the heart of Sebastian’s domain, gliding past the collection of history paintings that had been missing from the art historical community for hundreds of years, past the gold filigree flickering with firelight and the white moon that flashed through driving rain to cast a sliver of halo against the Prince’s hair. Sebastian wasn’t joking – he was a man of taste after all, and to be at the epicenter of his power was to walk in a decadent dream.

Never had Vincent felt so completely in the power of another person. Never had he felt another person’s strength so directly, inside of his own body and surrounding him on every side with the fruits of his superior’s machinations. He was totally and completely in Sebastian’s hold, spurred to the point of some manic envy. Two centuries of power were concentrated in this room. It made him want to sing and scream out loud, to climb the walls and knife the cushions, to tear the curtains with his teeth, to fling himself at LaCroix and…and…

To outdo him. How good it would feel, to conquer the most magnificent man he had ever seen. An opportunity. Yes, an opportunity to conquer. To see you broken and wretched. To impress you, REALLY impress you, until you bow to me. You’ll look so pretty weeping on your knees when your new pet disappears back to France with all your secrets, Bast…shame I won’t be here to see it… He shook himself, trying to focus only on the return home, but the return home was tied up with a powerful vengefulness towards LaCroix. To live, to be himself, was to struggle against LaCroix. His blood was pounding wildly all through his body, livid with another man’s vital energy.

Then Sebastain’s hands were on him, guiding him gently into a chair. “Easy. It’s hitting you, isn’t it? You like my pretty things?”

Oh, Sebastian. You don’t understand at all. In a wrathful haze, he grinned. “…Oui.”

“Good then.” He straightened up and snapped his fingers at the Sheriff. “He’s coming under control. We should be alright.” They were whispering about some assignment, and the Sheriff was gone.

Vincent stared into the fire, half insensible and trembling. I’m going to devastate him. I’m going to make him hurt. I’m going to devour everything that’s his and make it MINE.

.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.

LaCroix opened his briefcase, removing the contents from his travels and settling in at his desk for the night. He was thoroughly relieved. It was really a very manageable situation. The Marquis just took a while to feel the full effects. Perhaps that made sense, given how long it had taken him to heal from the bullet wound. Regrowing a brain was such a long process. But the vitae had finally taken root, and he was completely entranced.

Sebastian’s eyes lingered on Vincent. He was shaking in some ecstasy of reverence or lust, his eyes fixed on a Ventrue crest above the fireplace. It was strangely…disappointing. To see him like this was such an insult to the Marquis who had been fighting for his freedom tooth and nail just minutes ago. The Prince couldn’t help the sense that he had crushed something irreplaceable, and that it wasn’t worth it. Brought to heel, Vincent was cute, but before he had been…

Well, anyway, he wasn’t just cute. He really was bright. It was only a matter of how best to use him. He’d make a uniquely opportune spy within the High Table if there was some way to send him back in without compromising the Masquerade. But that was doubtful, and besides, he’d make just as clever a spy within the underworld. It seemed a shame to waste him among the kine - a specimen such as this wasn’t meant for such a life.

Or he could be useful on the trail of the Sarcophagus…

“Join me for a moment.” It was somewhere between hilarious and painful, watching Vincent cross the room. He wasn’t unsteady exactly, but pulled taut as a violin string. He practically vibrated. Sebastian could hear his racing heart. Vincent’s wide eyes locked onto his face and could not turn away. There was still something terrifying in them, and he found himself wondering whether he hadn’t best calm him down before attempting conversation. “…Are you quite well now, Vincent?”

“I am…hungry.” It was said with all the strained desperation of a newborn vampire. “Please, Prince. I know you don’t need to eat, but it’s been all day and night for me. Won’t you get me something, anything?”

He smiled, indulgent. Vincent wasn’t just cute this way, he was adorable. Those pleading eyes. “Alright. One moment, and then we’ll have a talk over your breakfast.”

One moment, turned away to call the front desk. And Vincent had already retrieved his cell phone from the briefcase and run halfway across the room. It was ringing.

He swore and made after him. “Oh for - Just where do you think you’re going!?” Vincent only sped up and disappeared into the stairwell. For god’s sake, his legs were so long…

Down they spiraled, Sebastian shouting useless commands that only seemed to spur him onward. It was no use to take him by force, it would have to be old-fashioned reason. “WHOEVER THAT IS WILL DIE IF YOU SAY A WORD!” The words echoed down some twenty stories. More quietly, for Vincent’s ears only, “The Masquerade. Recall what I told you.”

Vincent went still. In the sudden silence, a voice could be heard on the other side, barely loud enough to filter out towards LaCroix. “Hello? Who is this? It’s not possible that this is the Marquis.”

Panting, staring up at LaCroix with unbridled hatred, Vincent hung up the phone. Why did that look cut him so deeply? He pushed the pain aside and continued his descent, slowly now. Vincent did not retreat any further. “Good boy. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But you have to understand that I couldn’t let you go now even if I wanted to. It’s a violation of all our laws. To save you, I had to take you away. Permanently. You cannot go back.” He came to the same step as Vincent, looking up at him now, their bodies inches apart. “And now that I have you, can you fault me for putting you to use? When you are such a sharpened tool that you frighten even me?”

Very softly, “I frighten you?”

“…Dreadfully.”

Vincent’s eyes had never looked softer, never more innocently pleased. “Merveilleux.” And he lifted Sebastian right off his feet, and hurled him over the railing.

◃ Back ⚜ Next ▹(coming soon)

Image Sources: One (background) | One (Vincent) | Two

[mooniiify]

when we were young | wriothesley x reader

synopsis: their first years at the fortress of meropede were hard, but wriothesley will always find a way to take care of his girl word count: 1.2k cw: fem!reader, kinda angsty? fluff mostly, use of y/n, not proofread sorry folks notes: came to me at like 1 am last night, i'm so down bad for this man and i don't even have him in game sigh; also this is kinda the ‘what if’ version of another story that’s currently in the works hehe

She was used to the monotonous lifestyle at this point. Three years had passed since their sentencing. She could still remember as she stood next to Wriothesley in the Court of Fontaine, listening to Iudex Neuvillete announce to their seventeen-year-old selves they would be going to prison for killing their adoptive 'parents'. 

They weren't her parents. She'd only been with them for four years and never had she seen them as anything less than monsters. She wasn't sorry for taking their lives. Neither was Wriothesley. They were okay with the sentencing. 

Three years of living in banishment at the Fortress of Meropede, hundreths of meters underground, with no access to the outside world, yet she has never been happier. She liked the motonous lifestyle. She liked her job at the Fortress, she liked helping people, but most of all, she liked seeing Wriothesley at the end of the day. 

She still sometimes longed for the freedom the outside world provided, of course. But as of right now, her eyes kept glancing at the small clock on her desk, watching as the hands of the clock move seemingly slower with every minute. 

The infirmary has been mostly quiet the whole evening. She'd been stuck with the later shift, meaning she would spend most of her night waiting in case someone came in with an injury or sickness. She wasn't the only nurse, but she was the youngest, so the others always gave her the worst shifts. She couldn't complain, not when her social status was much lower. 

Her legs were crossed, the one on top swinging lightly. She let her head fall back, letting out a sigh. Was there seriously no one getting injured today? Usually there would be a lot, especially about this time. Those Pankration Ring people--

Footsteps echoed from outside right into the infirmary. Y/n stood up at that, making her way to the stairs. Just as she was about to go up to investigate, three people appeared in front of her. 

Her eyes widened as she watched two inmates basically drag Wriothesley into the infirmary, his head hanging, his messy hair covering his eyes. 

''Oh my Archons.'' Y/n immediately moved to the side, allowing the two men to walk down the stairs as safely as they cold. ''Come on, bring him to the bed.'' 

Wriothesley groaned as the two men laid him down on one of the beds, Y/n quickly moving to his side to inspect the damage. Other than a bruise, his face looked okay, but he was clutching his side. She moved to touch around his ribcage, eliciting a wince out of him when she pressed against his lower ribs. 

She looked at the two men. ''What the hell happened?''

''I'm fine,'' Wriothesley groaned from under her, holding her wrist with one of his hands. 

Y/n ignored him, waiting for the men to speak. ''It's Pankration night,'' one of them finally said. 

That was all the information she needed. Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. ''Thank you for bringing him. I can take it from here. Go and enjoy the rest of your evening.'' 

The two men left without another word. Y/n lifted her hands over Wriothesley's body, chanelling her Hydro powers. Small streams of water appeared above Wriothesley, which she slowly lowered to his chest and the bruise on his face. She looked at his face, watching as his expression relaxed gradually the more the water healed him. 

As soon as she felt that his pain was gone, she willed for the water to disappear. Her hands fell back to her sides as she watched Wriothesley sit up, dangling his legs over the bed. Their eyes met. He gave her one of his charming smiles. ''Thank you, darling.'' 

''What were you thinking?'' Y/n crossed her arms, watching as his grin fell, realizing he was, in fact, in trouble. ''Why were you fighting again? You know how much I hate seeing you hurt.''

Wriothesley chuckled. ''You should've seen the other guy. I won!''

''This isn't funny, Wriothesley.''

''No, not funny at all, darling.''

Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. ''Where's your Vision? Why didn't you use it to protect yourself?''

''I can't go against a normal person with a Vision, Y/n. I can't look like a sissy. Besides, it's not fair,'' Wriothesley explained as he finally stood up. Y/n looked up in his eyes, not saying anything. Wriothesley moved his hands around her, pulling her body flush against his. ''I can handle myself without my Vision, Y/n.''

''I know you're strong, Wrio. I just . . . I hate seeing you like this.'' She raised her hands to his cheek, gently caressing them with her thumbs. His bruise was gone now, but the old scar under his eye remained. She traced it with her thumb, feeling as Wriothesley melted under her touch. ''I don't get it. Why do you insist on fighting?'' Wriothesley was quiet. Oddly quiet. Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. ''What is it?''

He licked his lips. ''I just . . . I thougth that maybe, if I could make extra coupons by fighting, then neither of us would have to take on as many shifts and . . . we'd have more time for each other.'' 

Y/n blinked once, twice. She felt his hands tighten around her. 

''You're the only good thing left in this world and you've been so busy here recently, I've been missing you.'' Y/n's hands dropped to his waist as one of his moved up to her face. His fingers were gentle as they ran through her hair. ''You're only here because of me. If anything, I should be making sure you're not working at all.''

Her chest felt like it was about to burst. She leaned on her tip-toes, pulling him down so their lips would meet. She felt his hand fully move to the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. His lips were warm but slightly chapped, but they were his, and she wouldn't have it any other way. 

She pulled back soon enough, watching as Wriothesley's eyes fluttered open. ''What was that for?''

''Because I love you and I hate seeing you beat yourself up for things that aren't your fault.'' Y/n pressed her hands against his chest, looking up at him with a smile. ''You have to talk to me about things like that, Wrio. I'm sure we can figure things out together, if only we can discuss it.'' 

''But I want to take care of you.''

''I know you do,'' Y/n breathed out, her smile remaining. Her stomach felt like it was doing flips. How could she be so lucky to find someone so caring as Wriothesley? ''And I appreciate that. But we have to take care of each other, Wrio. There's a reason why there's two of us in this relationship.'' 

Wriothesley hummed, slowly nodding his head. ''Okay. If you . . . really don't want me to fight, then I'll stop. We can figure this out.''

''We will.'' Y/n pulled him back down, murmuring against his lips. ''Together.'' 

i may or may not have an idea for a part 2?

[shadow0-1]

When the air is silent and all that remains is our quiet confessions to each other.

[ellenchain]

I'm playing some old missions again to update my challenges and was surprised at how good I find the 7 Deadly Sins compared to the newer content (pff) But playing Ambrose Island, I realised again how little we know about Lucas Grey's past.

Apart from the fact that Grey suddenly comes around the corner with a mission that also happens to have something to do with Providence, I'm sure it's down to IOI looking for content that fits in with the overall game. So no further questions.

But still I ask myself: Who was Noel Crest for Lucas Grey?

Because have you noticed that Grey sounds super, super sad when Crest dies? Or when he announces him? Or when he briefly talks about his past? In general, Grey was extremely vulnerable in this mission. John Hopkins does a fantastic job as always, but I really wonder why Grey is so emotional. I mean, I melt every time he says "I'll see you soon" when the mission is over. It's very sweetly purred. Longingly, even.

Crest was probably one of Grey's confidants, they worked closely together. But for comparison, Sean Rose, the guy who ran the big militia in Colorado (on Grey's behalf), also seemed to me to be a confidant of Grey. Otherwise he wouldn't give him such a task. Grey himself worked in the house alongside all the others (we remember the cellar). Intense co-operation, as with Crest. And we see Grey directly after 47 has done his deed, namely on the hill with his sniper rifle. But here, he didn't look sad at all. More like "well, now they're dead, crap, I'll have to think of something else now"

With Crest, I had the feeling that he needed 5 minutes to himself to process the death of his former... friend? I don't know, maybe I am reading too much into it.

Are there any fan theories on Noel Crest and Lucas Grey yet??

[ppulverse]

not some armies defending bh/hybe on twitter 💀 bffr