#but this is a sign to me that things are looking at least a tad bit up

[stabthecode]

So I was looking at internships, went to apply for one and immediately ran into this:

[Image id: Screenshot of a job application window showing the input fields for the Resume/CV, Full Name, Pronouns. All fields are currently blank. Under the Pronouns input field are multiple select boxes next to the following pronouns: He/him, She/her, They/them, Xe/xem, Ze/hir, Ey/em, Hir/hir, Fae/Faer, Hu/hu, Use name only, Custom. Under the list of pronouns the screenshot reads Let the employer know what pronouns you use so they can address you correctly.]

I was honestly surprised. I'm going into the engineering industry and the vast majority of the applications I've put in still have a basic drop down menu for gender with the options "female, male" or if I'm lucky "female, male, choose not to identify". One application I sent in allowed me to write in my gender identity only to later on have to choose from one of those dropdown menus.

It is very difficult to know that while I identify as genderqueer, most of the people that look at me will immediately default to female. It's difficult to know that when I say that my pronouns are they/she, many people will take the easy path out and only use she. It's even more difficult when I am trying to make my way into an industry that clearly doesn't actually see me and recognize that I'm not male or female but something different. It's so much more difficult when I know that so many of the internships I've applied for will end up defaulting to she because I put female because it's the closest damn thing that was offered.

In comparison, I almost want to cry over the basic courtesy of asking for my pronouns at the beginning of a job application form. That it is taken just as seriously as any other piece of information. Like of course you would start off by giving your resume/cv, name and pronouns.

I have a very weird relationship to the concept of "woman" that has only been exacerbated recently due to an assignment that I had to do involving a podcast specifically talking about the data deficit regarding females seen across literally every single aspect of the world. It hasn't been helped any by companies that I supposedly want to work for forcing me into their boxes that don't fit.

It's a breath of fresh air to just be straight up asked for my pronouns off the mark. It gives me some hope that maybe things are moving forward. Slowly, but forward nonetheless.

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| Baby Mine ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader || Bucky x y/n

Summary: Bucky comes home from from a mission and finds you sick. You make an appointment at the medical bay expecting a routine visit only to find out some pretty surprising news.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, minor talk of options pertaining to, morning sickness, a disgusting amount of fluff, and a small sprinkle of spice at the end just because I felt like it.

Word Count: 3323

A/Ns: First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my hiatus. It was not intended and I hit a writers block. With that being said, I do have a decent amount in my drafts and have been working on getting some new things out there!

I would like to say a special thank you to @lil-darhk who gave me some encouraging words that I really needed to hear & helped get me back on here. ♥️

This is a ONE SHOT. This is not part of my BBWWS. I am still working on that but this is something I have been thinking of for a while and just felt like writing about. I know that a pregnancy troupe is not for everyone. (Personally, I love it and I'm not sure if I will write it into my other storyline.) SO because of that....I give you this. I hope you all enjoy it because the idea of Daddy Bucky to me is just 🤌🏻💋

Waking up to the smell of fresh ground coffee was always a tall tale sign of Bucky being home. Missions can be unpredictable. He can be gone for a few days, to a few weeks, and sometimes even months at a time. Luckily, this time he had only been gone about a month and a half.

Excitement took over as you forego your usual procrastinating in bed stretch to run out of the bedroom. Opening the door, the aroma was heavenly- as if a coffee shop had replaced your kitchen overnight. But your eyes immediately fixed on Bucky who was wearing a smirk while plating two separate stacks of pancakes.

“Breakfast, doll?” His voice as smooth as the warm syrup flowing down from those pancake stacks.

Running and jumping to wrap your arms around his neck was your response. Bucky chuckled, holding both arms out wider so he didn’t drop the plates. He put them down gently onto the counter so that his arms would now be only consumed with you.

“I missed you too.” You don’t have to look up from being buried in his chest to know that he’s smiling, it’s in the lighthearted tone of his voice.

Leaning back slightly with his arms still holding you, he looks into your eyes and plants a petal soft kiss on your lips.

“How come you didn’t wake me up when you got in?” You frown slightly looking up at him.

He shakes his head slightly and shrugs, “You just looked so… peaceful. I couldn’t bare to wake you up. At least, not without sustenance,” Bucky laughs.

Shifting your eyes from Bucky to the pancakes and back, your lips tug in each corner. “Smart man.”

His cooking always felt like home. It was filling, delicious, and you could almost taste the love it was made it with. “Mm,” the small noise escapes low in your throat as you take the last bite. Looking across the kitchen table, Bucky is slumped in his chair, arms folded with a warm smile as he watches you. “What?” The question comes out as a half joke and half concern.

Shaking his head slightly the smile grew. “Nothing, doll. Just missed you is all.” Leaning forward, Bucky rests his elbows on the table continuing to stare a tad bit more than normal.

“You’re acting weird.” You say, adjusting in your seat feeling slightly awkward.

“So what have you been up to while I was away?” He completely ignored your statement, asking an easy and lighthearted question.

“Um..” you start, breakfast starting to feel suddenly heavy in your stomach. “I uh-“ your teeth start to clench down as you swallow hard at the pooling saliva in your mouth. “I went out with Nat-“ your brows furrowed, starting to have difficulty with getting the words out. Bucky’s face quickly contorts to concern as you continue to fight the inevitable. “and her sister for some…s-some drinks-“ the word makes you gag.

Almost as if you channeled some super soldier serum, you pushed back from the table and ran- praying that the pressure of your hand over your mouth will be enough insurance to get to the toilet. It barely was. Breakfast came back up violently, loudly as you kneeled in front of the porcelain king. Even when you thought there couldn’t possibly be anything else to throw up, your stomach wrung on itself, forcing up every last drop of bile.

Breathing heavily into the bowl, skin now glistening with cooling sweat, you realize that your hair has been pulled out of your face. Your eyesight, now no longer blurry, sees Bucky sitting next to you; his right hand holding your hair back in a make shift ponytail and his left hand on the nape of your neck, the coolness of his metal hand being your favorite thing in the world at the moment.

“I’m sorry…” your sob echoed lightly in the toilet. “I’ve never been hung over like this before,” you sit back on your knees, grabbing some tissues to wipe your mouth. You bring yourself to look up at him through hooded and puffy red eyes, feeling instantly embarrassed. Bucky gives you a small reassuring smile as his hand gently rubs up and down your back.

“I’ve had the Russians drink me under the table a few times too. C’mon…” He helps you off of the floor, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

A warm bath, some fresh comfy clothes and a plain cup of tea seemed to make the nausea subside.

“I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night,” you say, looking into the lightly steaming mug. “My stomach hasn’t felt right in a few weeks. I actually have an appointment this afternoon in the medical bay, but I didn’t know you would be home. I can cancel it-”

“What time is your appointment?” He cuts you off,

“Um,” you look towards the wall and squint at the clock. “Actually in 45 minutes,” you laugh softly at the realization.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He offers.

“And miss your debriefing? Why, Sargent Barnes, that’s highly unlike you.” Even with not feeling great you can’t help but give him shit. This is the normal

Shaking his head softly he lets out a small laugh. “Alright,” he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture, “but call me if anything comes up, okay? I’m worried about you.” Bucky’s voice is soft and sincere as he leans in and plants a small kiss on your forehead. His eyes hesitate, locking on yours for a moment. Leaning back in, he presses his lips to yours. “I love you. So much,”

“Love you more, Bucky.” You smile back up at him.

Sitting on the exam table in nothing but a medical gown, you swing your legs gently back and forth while gently nibbling the tip of your thumb as you wait for the provider.

You jump at the sudden knock at the door. In walks the new physicians assistant for The Compound, a young and beautiful woman who looked like she was straight out of school.

“Hi! My names Bree and I’ll be working with you today. According to the nurse who did your intake, you’re here for-“ she scrolls through your electronic chart on a tablet, “some abdominal issues. Tell me about that,” she sits down on a stool, listening intently.

“It’s.. really not a big deal,” you start, she keeps quiet waiting for you to explain in more detail. “I don’t know,” you start to fumble with a few loose strands of hair. “I’ve just felt this sort of… heaviness? It hasn’t gone away and is just always sort of there?” Your voice is unsure, feeling self conscious as you describe this silly little symptom that you felt the need to make an appointment for. “This morning I got sick. Well, I went out drinking last night, so I’m assuming I’m a little hung over.” Your words start to sound like your rambling.

“Hmm,” Bree says in response. “When was your last period?”

“Um,” the gears start turning in your head as you try to backdate events, plans that had been interrupted because of aunt flow. “About 4 months ago?” It probably wasn’t on purpose, but you could see the clinicians eyebrow raise a centimeter in question. “It’s not what you think!” You quickly try to defend, “I’m on the pill! My periods have always been irregular which is part of the reason I’m on birth control in the first place.”

“Okay,” she responds, skeptical. “And you take the pill religiously?”

“Yes,”

“Everyday?”

“Yeah…”

“At the same time?” Bree’s eyebrow inclines just a little more.

“Well,” now she has you questioning everything that you’ve said. “I always have an alarm on my phone and try to take it the same time everyday.” That makes you feel better, justified.

“Have you been sick recently? Aside from this morning, any need for any prescriptions, antibiotics?”

“I had bronchitis, but that was… god months ago?”

“Okay,” she says flatly, “so we’ll just go ahead and do a minor work up to see if we can figure out what’s going on. The first thing I want to do though, is a pregnancy test.” Even though you could feel your face change, Bree quickly added, “Routine stuff. It’s one of the bases that we always cover early on.”

You suddenly become hyper focused on the urine sample you left on the counter top, as asked by the nurse. Bree takes out a small, flat test from a nearby drawer and uses a pipette to transfer the fluid.

It could have been 30 seconds or 20 minutes, but the idea that pregnancy was even a remote possibility has your insides feeling like they’re folding in on themselves.

“Okay so,” Bree starts, getting your attention. “The test did in fact, come out positive. Since your cycles have been irregular, I’d like to do an ultrasound to see how far along you are and then we can talk about options. Just go ahead and lay back on the table, feet in the stirrups.”

"Positive?" You repeat. "But... What? How?" It comes out breathless.

"Well, sometimes antibiotics can actually cancel out the effects of birth control. We try to advise women to not be sexually active as the body might seize the opportunity to ovulate and result in an unplanned pregnancy. How about we just take a look and go from there, okay?" Bree says just a little too cheerfully as she pats the stirrups.

Following her directions is the only thing you’re able to focus on. Going through the motions of laying down, putting your feet up and opening your legs. Bree’s voice is a murmur mixed with a high pitch ringing as you look up at the ceiling tiles, counting each spect while she sets up the portable sono machine.

“Just a little pressure,” she says, guiding the wand like probe, looking at the screen. “Okay. So, judging from the size… I’d say you’re close to about 9 weeks, give or take a bit. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” She asks, sweetly. And it’s the first time you’re able to look at her since lying down. Bree patiently waits for your answer with a warm smile. You reluctantly nod your head.

The room fills with soft, muffled whooshing. “It’s so fast. I-is that okay? Is everything okay?” You’re searching her face for any hint of something being wrong. In return, Bree just nods gently as she keeps her smile, still examining the screen.

“A fetus’ heartbeat is a lot quicker than ours. Everything looks perfect actually. Would you… like to see?”

“Yes, please.” You didn't hesitate with your answer this time.

The screen gets tilted towards you and your eyes start darting all around looking for the baby. Your baby. At first you don't see anything. It doesn't look like photos you've seen on Instagram of pregnancy announcements. But then, in the middle of what looks like a black balloon, is a bean with limbs. In the center of this bean is a lively flicker. Bree uses her index finger to point to the screen.

"There's the fetus' arms and legs," she points to the extremities, "and here," her finger gently taps on the pulsing center, "is the heart."

The whooshing matches the pace of the flicker; lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. Hearing the heartbeat in synch with the pulsing on the screen causes your own heartbeat to match for a moment.

So this is love.

After a moment, Bree removes the probe and rips a paper from the ultrasound machine. "Here's some pictures for you," she hands them to you as you sit up on the bed. "I want to see you back here in three weeks for another check up... unless you want to discuss other options?" You shake your head. "Do you have any questions for me?"

“No, not right now.” You’re solely focused on the pictures now in your hand. Even though the image is burned into your brain, holding a physical copy has some how made it more real.

The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind. There was no possible way that you’re actually pregnant. Even with the new noticeable symptoms and bathroom counter littered in double pink lined tests, it still seemed so unbelievable. That’s not even the hardest part. How am I going to tell Bucky?

Just as the reality starts to set in of having to tell the other adult who is directly involved, the front door to the apartment opens.

"Hey, doll!" Bucky calls loudly from the hallway, the thumping of his boots following his voice. "Sorry that the meeting ran late. I figured we could order in tonight. What about that Thai place you like?" He waits for a response while buzzing around the kitchen, no doubt making himself coffee for the dozenth time today. "Doll?" The question echoes through the quiet apartment.

"I'm in here," you acknowledge softly from the living room couch. Bucky pokes his head out from the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief.

"There you are," he starts walking towards you. "If you tell me what you would like for dinner, I'll call it in and then-" his voice and steps stop abruptly. "Hey... you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." You answer, obviously distracted.

"That doesn't sound too convincing," Bucky hesitated, looking you over and taking a few steps closer.

"I-I have to tell you something." Your tone is soft, scared. You’re fidgeting with the edges of your sweater sleeves.

“Is it something the doctor said?” His voice is softer now, reluctant and afraid. While his piercing, cerulean blue eyes continue to search yours for the answer, wide and terrified.

“I-“

Should I have gotten balloons? Made him open a box with one of the pregnancy tests or a cute onesie inside? Bake a damn cake?

“Y/n?!” Bucky didn’t yell but definitely had to get your attention. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?!” He pleaded. Why were the words so difficult to say? Maybe because it hasn’t been said out loud yet. Or that it’s still so shocking. Or maybe that verbalizing it will just make it that more real. You turn on your heels and run to the bathroom.

“Y/n!!” He calls after you, but you know he’ll be just a few steps behind.

Picking up a handful of the positive tests off of the vanity counter with your heartbeat pounding in your ears in combination with his heavy footsteps getting closer.

“Seriously! What is going on-“ Bucky is flustered as he steps into the entryway and stops abruptly at the sight of you facing him, holding the tests fanned out.

“I’m pregnant.” There it is. You’re holding your breath, waiting to see what he’ll say. Aside from contraceptives, you’ve never had any kind of discussions pertaining to a family.

His face softens as he takes a step forward, his eyes hyper fixated on all the double pink lines. Bucky’s chest rises and falls deeply now. “You’re… pregnant? Not sick?” He asks to clarify, being cautious.

“Morning sickness, apparently”, a small laugh escapes and it surprises you. “But other than that, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

The ‘we’re’ part catches his attention. He’s looking into your eyes once again, searching. But, for what?

“Is this… something you want? With… me?” He suddenly sounds so adolescent and anxious. Who can blame him? This took you both completely by surprise. Knowing Bucky, he would support you in whatever you wanted. Whatever decision you thought was best for you, your body, your health in every aspect, he would respect and advocate for. He is being cautious with his response to the news until he knows what your decision is.

Putting the tests down, you take both of his hands into yours and take a deep breath.

“Bucky, if you had asked me this morning, I wouldn’t have known what our future would hold. But knowing what I know now… I want this baby. I want to be a mom and for us to be a family. That being said, I know that this is something that we never talked about. If this isn’t something you want, I underst-“

You’re suddenly cut off by his lips pressing into yours. It feels like a weight has been lifted as Bucky’s arms gently wrap around you to bring you closer. Kissing becomes increasingly difficult around giggles and the obnoxiously big smiles you’re both wearing.

When your lips finally part, Bucky’s eyebrows are raised in excitement. His eyes are darting around your torso as if the news would suddenly show physical changes on your body.

“I can’t believe it…” he breathes, “I actually get the chance to be a Dad-” The word comes out almost as a choked sob. My heart.

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out the ultrasound Bree had given to you earlier, holding it up for him to see.

"Look, our baby's first photo!"

Bucky takes the picture as gently as if someone were handing him an actual newborn baby. He just stares, probably confused as to what he was looking at similarly to you just a few hours ago.

"I know it doesn't really look like anything right now- but I go back in a few weeks and-"

"Are you kidding?" He looks up from the black and white photo to meet your eyes, a watery sheen coating his own. "This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life." Bucky says softly, as if to himself, looking back down at the picture. And he's smiling. A genuine, heartfelt smile.

That night was the closest he had ever held you in his arms. The two of you made up for lost conversations and started planning for your future and what it held as you laid in bed. Bucky talked about how he wanted to build a crib instead of buying one and was curious what the appropriate amount of time was to wait until you could both start telling everyone. Excitement was an understatement for this man.

"Can I go with you to your next appointment?" He asked, in a hopeful tone as his fingers traced along smooth, soft circles around your belly button. You giggle, wincing at one specific caress.

"Hey! That tickles! But, of course you can. You can come to all of them. I was... kinda hoping you would?" In return, your tone holds the same anticipation.

"I wouldn't miss it." Bucky's palm flattens against your belly as he places a kiss against your temple.

"Don't get used to that," You say looking down. "We're going to start growing and getting bigger any day now." You fake a frown, although there is a small part of you that isn't necessarily faking.

"Hmm." A low hum vibrates from the back of Bucky's throat as he shifts his body down along yours.

His fingertips skim the hem of your sleep shirt before pulling it up and exposing your stomach. The coolness of the air makes your abdomen tighten, but is soon replaced with petal soft kisses. "When you say 'grow', I hope you mean grow more beautiful by the day." Each firm press of his lips feels like its igniting your skin on fire with the newfound sensitivity. Your toes start to dig down into the mattress.

"Because, y/n..." Bucky repositions himself onto his knees, one now conveniently pressed in-between your legs. The pressure alone makes your heart rate spike and has you borderline panting. He hovers over you, "There isn't anything in this world I find more beautiful or more attractive than my girl carrying my child." He holds your gaze, intense and primal- more than you've ever seen.

"Do you understand?" Bucky asks with a raised brow. You nod hastily and he grins in response. "Good girl. Now, let's see if those rumors about hyper sensitivity are true. Judging by how you're writhing under me and the wet spot on my knee... I'm really going to enjoy the next few months."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist! Requests are open!

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @skyf-7

[safetypinxtales]

Lonely with you | Azriel

summary: it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely.

words: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, feelings of loneliness, thirsting over our boy az and his thighs, kind of just a drawn out drabble, some angst, generally just softness, Azriel with a book needs a warning in and of itself, very slight jealousy, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, PINING

notes: haven't written in years, and never befor for Azriel, or anyone from acotar, so bare with me. Not sure what I think of this, nor what the future might hold, but I had some time off uni and this idea that I just couldn't seem to get out of my head. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

part 2

You knew what picture was waiting for you in the living room of the House before you even rounded that corner. The distinct sound of pages turning, the hint of whiskey in the air, and him. 

That scent that was just so distinctly Azriel it almost made you forget that echoing emptiness in your chest. 

The sight that greeted you as you entered the room belonged in a museum, or at the very least at the front of some Day Court scribe’s lecture hall, being studied by the brightest minds in Prythian. You wanted to commission Feyre to paint it from your memories so it could be immortalized, even if just for your eyes. Because by the Gods, it was mesmerizing. 

Azriel sat – no, sprawled across one of the couches, those thick, muscled, sweatpant-clad thighs so deliciously, invitingly, teasingly spread apart. The book in his hand was not one you recognized, but then his taste in literature was slightly more… sophisticated than yours. But that just made it all so much more enticing didn’t it? The thought of this gorgeously dark, winged male consuming deep, meaningful art? It would make any sane person fall to their knees. 

The hazel of his eyes didn’t show any sign of surprise as his gaze met yours. He knew you were coming, most likely courtesy of the shadows leisurely curling around his shoulders. Cauldron, was he a sight…

… And your friend. Unfortunately.

“Are you just going to stand there all night or will you eventually move?” Right, right. How long had your feet been rooted to the floor? Judging by the humorous tone of his voice and that boyish sparkle in his eyes, probably a tad too long. 

Forcing your body to take a step, and another, you tried to think of something – anything to say. 

“Sorry, I–... I just didn’t expect you to be here is all,” liar, “I guess you caught me by surprise”. It wasn’t the best excuse in the world, but with the situation at hand it could have been a lot worse. Like, a lot. Besides, it’s not like you could have told him the truth.

Sorry Azriel, it’s just that I have been desperately yearning for you for the last couple of years and seeing you like this, looking all boyfriend-y, has me nearly swallowing my own tongue because of how perfect you look. I am just humiliatingly obsessed with every single little thing you do, as well as horrifyingly lonely to a default. In a non creepy way, of course. 

… You would rather free-dive off the dining room balcony before ever admitting that to him. 

His brows furrowed as he observed you, like he could see the lie written across your face, before humming lightly, almost as to himself. He reached a hand out to the glass resting on the coffee table and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid inside. Your eyes were trained on his mouth as he lowered the glass. Trained on the candlelight reflected in the alcohol wetting his lips. Those shiny, pouty, full–

His tongue slipped out and delicately swiped across his lower lip, licking off the remnants of the whiskey from the glass in his hand, and it took everything in you to not whimper at the sight. 

Cauldron boil you.

Needing something to ground yourself, you made your way over to pour yourself a glass of whatever Azriel was drinking and collapsed beside him on the couch, trying to roll that stubborn stiffness out of your shoulders.

”Can’t sleep either?” He asked you on a slight chuckle. 

“No, not with them going at it like bunnies,” you sighed, “how is it even possible for Cassian to… you know? I mean, not only is it day after day, but all night, non-stop? You need– I mean not you specifically, I don’t know anything about your sexual habits, just– just males in general,” oh Gods, “you– you need to rest, at some point – right?”

Azriel took in your flustered state, and pursed his lips as if to keep from laughing. His amusement did not help your case at all, only making the heat crawl further up your neck, your ears positively aflame. 

“I guess the mating bond has its perks,” he surmised, and you couldn’t escape the huff that exited your nose. 

That damned mating bond. The very one the Mother seemed to be handing out left to right lately, to everyone except you. And Azriel. But unlike you, he was a damn catch and could have anyone he’d like. 

“Am I an absolute wench for being jealous of Nesta? And Elain? And Feyre?” You whined as you threw your head back on the couch.

“Not at all,” Azriel’s raspy voice comforted you, easing the tightness in your stomach. You still felt like one though; Nesta was your best friend and you were happy for her, but still–

“It’s just so unfair! They were born like, yesterday! I have been suffering through a mostly miserable existence for over five centuries now and I have never even come close to a connection like they have,” you rolled your neck, “I am over the moon for them, don’t get me wrong, and I hate to make their happiness about me–“

“But being alone around people who… aren’t, can be very lonely,” Azriel finished and your heart clenched as you looked at him. Beautiful, kind, caring Azriel. One of your best friends, and the male you were hopelessly, devastatingly in love with. 

Knowing he, too, was hurting was painful in itself, but also slightly comforting. Knowing you weren’t alone in your loneliness. 

“You’re in pain,” he mumbled, and you opened your mouth to answer, but you couldn’t. Because it wasn’t really a question was it? “Your shoulders,” he noted, “they’re tense.”

“Oh, it’s fine, really. Nothing to worry about, just a small kink,” you tried to brush it off, but he looked at you with such intensity it made your whole body tingle.

“No it’s not,” it was like he could see right through you, “No, you have been worrying your neck ever since you sat down.” He pondered a moment before he sat up a little straighter beckoning for you to move closer. “Come on, let me help you with that.”

Your mouth fell open. 

Was he insinuating he wanted to rub your back? Your half naked, barely-nightgown-clad back. With his hands. Those magical, beautiful hands. Oh Gods.

Your attempt of a protest died in your throat at the slight raise of his eyebrows. He was not to argue with.

He marked the page he was on and placed his book down on the table in front of you, his eyes not straying from you once. Like he was afraid you would bolt if he looked away, even just for a second. 

In his defense, you very well might have.

A shaky breath released from your lungs as you put your glass down and readjusted your position on the couch until you were situated between his legs. With your back facing him, you carefully pulled your hair over one shoulder to give him better access, trying to block out the thoughts of how incredibly warm those bite-able thighs of his were.

The warm calluses of his hands on your skin set you ablaze, and as he carefully started to massage out the knots in your upper back you swore you could have melted, then and there. 

You couldn’t help leaning in to his skillful touch. You also couldn’t help the breathy groan that escaped you as he started to work on a particularly tense area. 

Or how your heart rate picked up as you heard what you swore was Azriel’s breath hitching in response. 

You basked in the intimacy of the moment, fully enjoying all of his undivided attention. 

The gesture, the moment, it all felt so domestic and comforting that the constant emptiness in your chest started to close over. Even if just for now. Even if it was all borrowed; a lovely, elusive fantasy – you let yourself feel whole. 

You barely registered his hands slowing to a stop, or the new found looseness in your shoulders. Barely registered as his hands slid down your arms and slowly tugged you back towards his chest. 

Not until you were engulfed in his warmth, his arms wrapped around you did you realize how well you fit together.

Like two pieces of a puzzle.

“Be lonely with me tonight,” his breath tickled your ear, “please.”

You knew it probably wasn’t wise. That tomorrow, when all of this would be gone, the hurt would resurface. The loneliness even heavier than before. But you couldn’t get yourself to care. To tell him no. Tell yourself no.

Instead you burrowed deeper in his embrace, closed your eyes, and even if just for tonight, you let his warmth fill the void in your chest. 

Until that void had been replaced by a vibrating, golden, glow.

[cordyce]

ao’nung is frustrated.

at least, that’s what you’ve deduced from watching him sharpen his knife for the past ten minutes straight. if he keeps going, it might get as thin as a wish bone; threatening to snap at the slightest bit of pressure. as much as you’d find amusement in the sight of that, you’d rather not be in the crossfire when it happens.

“what’s got you caught in its net?” you ask, finally, as you drop the gear you’ve been mending while ao’nung simmers.

“funny,” he mutters, but mirth is not something found in his tone. another scrape, another grating. he does not look over at you.

“i know. i’m the funniest person alive. you should be grateful you have the opportunity to bask in my presence.”

it’s a ploy—a tease. like waving fresh bait in front of a young ilu but never tossing it into the water for them to eat. your tactic with ao’nung is always the same. push and pull and prod just enough that he bites back with less venom and more demure. because sarcasm is better than spite, in all regards.

except now, he doesn’t take it. now, he simply keeps his head tucked down, his lips pressed in a hard line. whittling at his knife and spouting invisible steam out of his ears.

you stand up, make your way over to him and bend slightly at the waist to slide your hands along his sloped shoulders. his muscles go taut—just a bit—at the initial contact of your palms, but relax a second later. not to their resting state, no, but leaving the field of caught off guard at the very least. you hum, lean down further as you dip your hands over his clavicles, across the upper half of his sternum.

“what is wrong, ao‘nung?” its sincere, this time. your question. because despite the dynamic between the two of you, you really do care—jokes and jabs aside.

this silence is different. you can tell by the twitch of his ears that he’s thinking; mulling something over on his tongue before he decides whether to spit it out or swallow it down. you can never guess which one it will be, not with him. he acts on whims, never strategy. there is no speculating his next move, so you simply don’t try to.

“there has been talk among the reef.” it’s all he says; all he gives. such a shell of a man, forcing you to pry open his jaws to reach the pearl within.

it is good that you’ve always been so skilled with your hands.

“there is always talk among the reef,” you chuckle, begin to fiddle with the necklace that’s strung around his neck. hooking your chin over the top of his head, you look down to watch as he grinds his knife once again. “you know they like to keep their minds busy with silly things.”

“it isn’t a silly thing.”

“oh? then tell me, what is so dire that it could have the great ao’nung this tense, hm?”

his hands falter for the first time, a pause in his rhythmic grazing. your brows furrow at that, create a hairline crease in the middle that only smooths out as he resumes his motions. scrape, scrape, scrape again. it’s like he’s doing it in sync with his heart. if you shifted your hand over just a tad, you suppose you could test that theory.

“it is talk of you.”

quiet. a mere grumble under his breath. if you were not leaned over him like this you would not have even heard him. such an odd twinge to his tone; laced with something you can’t quite decipher. can’t quite pick up on. it isn’t necessarily anger, but something flirting along the lines of it.

“me? don’t tell me you have went around spreading rumors that i am possessed by eywa’s evil sister again. i thought you stopped that when we were kids.” you laugh through it, because the jagged edges of his timbre are making your fingers itch. “you’re going to ruin my reputation.”

he scoffs. condescending, dismissive. normally you’d take that as a good sign; a call back to his regular grating demeanor. at this specific moment, however, you find annoyance in it.

“your reputation is fine,” he tilts, gives a particularly harsh press of his knife that makes you think this just might be the time where it snaps. miraculously, it doesn’t. “so completely fine.”

“then what could they possibly find reason to speak of me for?” you press, rubbing your thumb over the cord of his necklace, twisting it around your fingers. “i have not caused any trouble lately. haven’t set fire to any maruis. why, there’s nothing that i can think of that could possibly warrant—“

“they speak of your lack of mate.”

his hands are working harder, less refined. jaw clenching, deltoids growing stiff below you. it’s all starting to air itself out, his jaws have cracked open just enough that you can finally see the pretty pink pearl that rests on the bed of his tongue. but it is not enough, not yet.

“then all they speak is the truth,” you shrug over him, keep your gaze locked on his movements. you want to be sure, before you jump to the assumptions that are creating hurdles in your mind. “there is no harm in speaking of public knowledge.”

“they—“ he hitches, twists his face up like his next words are sour on his tastebuds, “they are voicing their thoughts on potentials for you. they think.. rotxo is the best option.”

“oh, yes. rotxo would be a fine potential mate.”

and, ah. there it is. the coup de grace.

ao’nung snaps his head around towards you so fast you hardly have time to lean back to avoid getting smacked in the chin by his skull. there’s a fissure between his brows, his eyes have widened past the aggravated slits they were before. his mouth is cracked open in disbelief, of the fact that you agreed with him or another matter, you aren’t sure. either way, it is clear now what has been getting under the heir’s skin.

he's jealous. and you can't help but find that the slightest bit amusing. it's not often you have ao'nung in the palm of your hand like this; akin to a bug squirming under the pad of your thumb with no clear route of escape. you think you can play this up, just a little.

"you do not think that," he states, like he needs to speak it into existence. like if he says it then it will ring true, change your mind.

(he doesn't need to change your mind, but he doesn't need to know that right now).

"why would i not?" you hum, tip your head like you're truly contemplating it. "he is sweet. has a tender heart. and he is always so quick to help me. he doesn't even complain. i think taking him as a mate would be a good decision."

"the only thing good about rotxo is his hair," ao'nung spouts, rolls his eyes at you as his face fills up with indignation. "stupid, pretty boy goody two shoes."

"oh, you're right! and he's nice to look at," you agree, nod your head right along with it, "how could i forget?"

his cheek dips; he's sucking it in between his teeth. you've really done it, you think. setting him off has never been so easy. sure, it’s never too hard to get him riled up in the middle of a bickering match. but like this? aggravated over, what, exactly? the thought of you with someone else?

maybe you’re enjoying this a bit too much.

“he is not your type.” a bold proclamation, ao’nung spits out. grasping for straws; searching blindly. “you would not go well with him.”

“i think he is my type, actually,” you dispute, and he’s stopped all his movements now. knife long forgotten as he seethes over every word you speak. “kind. loyal. good morals. easy on the eyes. yes, definitely my type. that checks off the list.”

he purses his lips, knots up his brows. “that cannot be the list.”

“no?” you peruse, play into him. he makes this too easy, really. “what do you think is on the list, then? moody? messy? long hair? a tendency to be mouthy? being the chief’s son?”

that earns you a shove off of him; a click for him to realize you’ve been fucking with him this entire time. biting back your shit eating grin would be impossible so you don’t even try to. nor do you stop the laughter that bubbles out of you as he goes back to his knife work and curses you under his breath.

you reach for him again except this time you walk around until you’re in front of him. one hand on his shoulder, you lean down to shove the knife and sharpener out of his hands and plop yourself right into the slot his crossed legs have made. his gaze is narrowed at you, his lips jutted. you simply smile—innocent, sweet—as you slide your hands around to cup the nape of his neck.

“i don’t think rotxo could handle me,” you murmur, sickeningly saccharine in such a direct contrast from seconds before. ao’nung doesn’t budge. “and the good ones are always so boring. if he was my mate, when would i ever get the chance to get up to trouble?”

“you are trouble,” ao’nung scoffs; acting annoyed, fed up. but his hands give him away as they meet the dimples of your lower back, as they slide up your spine to hold you secure so you don’t fall backwards.

his facade of pretending to not care has never been too full proof. there’s been cracks in that glass since day one.

“your trouble,” you grin. your fingers begin to draw circles along the back of his neck, tease at his hairline. “you made me this way, you know.”

“i made you nothing,” he rebuts. “you are the one who always comes up with the pesky ideas that get us scolded.”

“ah, you’re right,” you agree with a faux sigh. “humor and brains. i guess i’m the funniest and smartest person alive. truly, you should be honored.”

ao’nung rolls his eyes, peels his hands off of you. “forget ability, i do not wish to handle you now. rotxo can have you, for all i care.”

“oh?” you quirk, begin to stand up. “should i go see what he is up to—“

“sit,” ao’nung orders before you can rise no more than a few inches off of his lap; hands gripping your waist to tug you back down. the playfulness drains from his eyes, that annoyance—jealousy—flashes across sea foam irises for just a moment. “you are not funny.”

you bite the edge of your lip, making your grin turn slanted. he is so fun to tease, to toss around. his palms are warm on the dip of your waist. sliding your hands further back, you skim your finger along the side of the braid encasing his queue. faint, light. he tries to hide the shiver it causes but you pick up on it regardless. and that only makes you grin wider.

“they will speak of me until i choose a mate,” you hum as you lean closer to him, minimize the distance between your faces. “rotxo is not the only name that will be paired with mine. they all like to place their bets, you know.”

“their bets are stupid,” ao’nung mutters; gruff and rumbling out of his chest as his attention flickers, falters, the closer you get.

being this close is nothing new. being this touchy is nothing new, either. but it’s almost like your skin is buzzing, your energies feeding off one another in the moment that sends you tumbling into a smug streak. or maybe, that’s just the power ao’nung holds over you and you’re scared to admit it.

“you only think they’re stupid because your name is being outnumbered in the betting pool.” maybe that’s a little mean, but it’s fun. your fingertips are heavier now, more directed as you trace the divots of his braid with one hand and gauge the rise and fall of his chest with the other. “if you were winning, would they be stupid then?”

“i am winning,” ao’nung conveys, so sure and lacking any sense of doubt in the slightest; a variance from a few moments before. and that, well, that actually makes you falter—for just a second.

“and how do you figure that?” you mumble out the question into the minute slot between the two of you. bated and breathy.

ao’nung hooks an arm around your waist, his other hand sliding up to grip the hinge of your jaw. not harsh, not rough, but firm. cradling you carefully but securely; solidly. your breath hitches, your fingers pause on their skimming across his queue encasing.

“because i am the only one who gets to do this,” he says. blunt and honest and certain as he closes the gap severing you.

he kisses you full and deep and warm. he kisses you like he has not eaten in days and you are the one thing that can sate his hunger. he kisses you like the ocean kisses the shore; yearning and all consuming, and rushing back once more as soon as their lips must part.

and he does; chase your lips as you pull back to catch your breath. places one, two, three pecks there before he deems it a safe retreat. his eyes are lidded, but no longer from frustration. that signature crooked, haughty smirk of his is curved into his pale lips. and instead of smacking it off, you’re considering how many more kisses it would take to wipe it away.

“oh yeah,” he chuckles, lips brushing over yours as he’s already leaning in again. “so winning.”

and you can’t help but agree.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

[niphix]

𓆩⟡ cupid’s play and forced confessions. ⟡𓆪

﹒⪩ megumi fushigiro.

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫ - now playing “From The Start” // Laufey

warning! all lowercase.

a big, fat crush. that’s what it is.

…

megumi isn’t as discreet as he’d argue he is, nor does it take much observation to notice the hearts that practically pepper his dazed eyes whenever your figure enters his sight; or whenever your honey-laced voice reaches his ears.

it was the usual - prolonged stares from across the room, lingering touches when his burning hands graze your delicate ones, sloppy excuses stated messily just to loiter around in your presence a tad bit longer, pink-tinted cheeks from just a greeting of yours that's directed towards him, always keeping you in his peripheral vision on missions and bombarding you with numerous questions regarding your physical well-being; oftentimes followed up by another five million “are you sure you’re alright?”s.

again, it doesn’t take a particularly intelligent person to recognize these signs. on that note, after yuji and nobara catch on, it’s out of the question to keep them from playing matchmaker and meddling in their dear friends' romantic business. knowing megumi all too well to know that their coward of a companion wouldn’t dare make a move, they began scheming together in secret.

occasionally, you’d hear your name being called from afar in a cheery tone by nobara, beckoning you over with a wave and claiming that “fushigiro has something to say to you~!”

you’d turn your head with a smile, seeing megumi's eyes widen for a split second at the girl’s statement, before he’d pinch his nose bridge. as you’d come closer, nobara would suddenly wear a troubled expression on her face, following it up with an anxious “shit-! i forgot i had to be somewhere!” offering no elaborate explanation before running off into the distance, leaving you alone with a fuming megumi.

he’d panic, looking anywhere but into your gorgeous eyes that look at him so sickly sweet. you’d both stand in awkward silence for a few moments, you being completely oblivious to the mess that’s running through the flustered teen’s head; oblivious to how hard he’s struggling to say anything but those three stupid words that he’s terrified of accidentally blurting out. it would be tremendously mortifying; according to him, at least.

at last, he’d finally interrupt the silence. “you... uh━” he’d hesitate, rubbing the back of his neck.

“you did well on yesterday’s mission. good━… good job.” you’d hear him mumble before promptly turning around and escaping the embarrassing scene with hurried steps, stuffing his hands in his pockets to hide the nervous fidgeting he’d pray you hadn’t noticed.

occasionally, you’d be minding your own business while listening to the trio’s banter - yuji and nobara’s, for the main part. you would smile to yourself like a proud parent watching over their silly little kids from afar. you’d momentarily turn your back to the chaotic mess of a friend group, not letting much time pass before you’d feel something - or rather someone - bump into you from behind. it wasn’t a hard hit, just a little nudge, but still enough for you to look back curiously, wondering what happened.

there you’d see a fuming megumi again, eye nearly twitching from anger and rather obvious veins appearing on his forehead. he’d quickly apologize with an ashamed bow of his head, his eyes softening up when he’d look back up at you, hearing your chuckle as you’d claim that it’s nothing to worry about. still wanting to make sure that his name is cleared for you, he’d explain himself hurriedly.

“itadori pushed me… sorry again.” would be the last thing you’d hear from him before he’d run off to chase after a proud and smug yuji, yelling that he’d punch him for real this time.

occasionally, on movie nights where you’d be the last one to enter the room where everyone would be seated, nobara - who would purposefully always sit beside megumi - would scoot to the side, claiming the last available spot aside from the seat that she’d free up by doing so.

nonchalantly, she’d pat the spot that she just left, smiling at you innocently and indirectly forcing you to sit beside megumi who’d be glaring daggers at her; not that he’d actually complain, but it made him nervous.

he’d completely forget about the movie - the movie that he chose - and instead he’d be hyper-aware of how close you were, of how your shoulder would graze his when you’d shift in your seat, of how you’d lean over him to reach for the popcorn that yuji would purposefully hold far away to tease you, and of how you’d slowly doze off halfway through the movie with your head nodding off towards nobara.

his feelings would instantly run loose without a leash. he’d feel jealousy bubbling up in his body when he’d eye your head resting peacefully on nobara’s shoulder, though afterwards he’d quickly slap himself mentally, scolding himself for wishing that you’d sleep contentedly on him instead.

it was torturous.

both for megumi to feel and for his friends to witness. he knew himself well enough to know that he was not going to dare utter a single word about his feelings to you; not on his own, at least.

as infuriatingly awkward and frustrating as it was, half of him was still grateful for the ‘help’ he received from nobara and yuji. the other half, however, wanted to believe that it was just a ‘middle-school crush’-phase that he’d forget and move on from in no time.

but the two cupids would not allow that as megumi now finds himself blindfolded, grumbling annoyed as he lets yuji drag him somewhere.

“this better be worth my time, itadori…”

he groans, sighing and questioning why he’s even playing along to his friend’s antics. after walking for a while, his blindfold is taken off and he immediately recognizes the room number. the two boys are standing in front of your room.

he doesn’t even get a second to ask questions before yuji shoves a bouquet of flowers into his hand, dramatically increasing the amount of questions that stuff his head. yet again, megumi is given approximately zero seconds to act as his eyes widen in pure terror when he sees yuji’s hand knock on your door.

“don’t fumble this, buddy.”

yuji chuckles, his free hand patting megumi on the shoulder. megumi’s pupils are still diluted, his head having processed none of this yet as yuji runs away, disappearing around a corner at the end of the hallway.

god, this can not be happening.

megumi gulps the immediate moment you swing the door open with a heart-meltingly sweet smile, humming a little “mm?”.

his mind goes blank. all the rational planning, what to say, what to do, is thrown right out the window. he awkwardly stands there, the tips of his ears burning bright red and his hand clenching around the poor bouquet.

sweat beads up on his nape while his lips part, trying to come up with something, anything, to say in order to get himself out of this situation with his heart still intact. however, he ends up deeming each possible excuse useless, biting down on his tongue as to hold in the silly words that threaten to spill out.

what is he supposed to do? to say? shit, why can’t he think properly?

“megu…?” you call out in that adorable voice of yours. you tilt your head at him, the inner corners of your eyebrows tugged up as a sweet yet uncertain smile plays at your lips, confusion written all over your face.

still receiving no reply from the stunned and flustered boy, you decide to try making it easier for him, giving him a more close-ended question.

“those flowers are so pretty~! who are they for?” you chirp curiously and point at the bundle of flowers in his hands. oh did you make everything so much harder for him than it already was, just by existing.

nonetheless, he finally gets himself together to hold them out for you.

“they’re, uh━… they’re for you…” he maffles, face burning up. when he finally gathers the courage to look you in the eyes, he instantly melts, seeing the way your face lights up and your eyes practically sparkle, holding galaxies behind them. with a smile, wider than before, you accept the bouquet enthusiastically. you stuff your nose into the middle of the floral gift and inhale the soothing scent.

“that’s so sweet, thank you! why, though?”

that’s when his brain short-circuits, again. for the love of god, can you stop making him feel like a grade schooler again? think, megumi, think. say anything.

“‘cause you’re cute.”

he blurts out, sounding far more confident than he should have been, given his current state of mind. immediately he wants to do nothing more but to crawl into a little hole and cry.

maybe say anything but that, you idiot.

well, now it's your turn to freeze up and stare at him with wide eyes. this interaction is most painful for anyone else to witness, not that it isn’t already awkward enough for the two of you.

“i━… thank you! i think… you are as well…” your voice trails off at the end, but it couldn’t ring any clearer in megumi’s ears.

you think he’s cute? you? he actually has a chance with you? he might as well just pass out on the spot, right then and there.

that thought was enough to give the confidence he needed to place all his bets, going all in.

“let me take you out sometime.” he states bluntly, sounding more like a command than an offer. 

“s━sure…!” you chirp cheerfully, acting as if your heart didn’t just skip a beat and as if you didn’t nearly choke on just the sheer straightfowardness of the young boy’s claim.

and before the tremendously awkward tension can eat away what's left of megumi’s pride - if there even is any - he stiffly turns to his side, once again shoving his burning hands into his pockets as he walks away with relieved steps, letting out a long sigh that he had been holding in. as the realization of the entire situation dawns on him, he groans, hiding his flustered face in his hands while he absentmindedly continues to walk through the hallways.

“good job, fushigiro!”

“shut up…”

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

[milfsloverblog]

Hii!! I have a Larissa x reader request. Larissa is in her late forties, has a shit ton of money (cause that woman screams money) and she's also a tad lonely, so she decides to find herself a sugar baby and that's where reader comes in, they are broke, almost finishing college and in need of quick money. I really just need this woman to pamper me with money and love and good sex, lots of mommy kink and out of the bedroom dominance pretty pleeeeeaaassseeee

Secret Benefits (NSFW)

Part 1. (Next part)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: Anon, I loved this request so much I’ve decided to turn it into a multiple chapter fic. We’re mostly setting the scene in this chapter, but I added a tiny bit of smut. Thanks for the request, enjoy!! <3

You didn’t feel very proud as you clicked on the “sign up” button on the app your best friend told you about. You typed in your information - Name, age, height, weight, eye and hair colour. It did feel like you were only a product to be bought but it was what you were looking for, after all.

You filled in the “looking for” section - women, preferably. You didn’t care much about height or weight or anything like that, really, although you hoped you would be able to at least find someone attractive. But you couldn’t afford to be too picky.

It did feel like signing up for a normal dating app until you reached the “monthly income” criteria. This was by far the most important criterion, the one that had led you to this website, and yet you didn’t know what to answer. You stared at your phone screen for a moment before eventually typing in “Minimum $3500”. It felt like a correct amount, enough for someone to take care of themselves and you as well.

You uploaded a few pictures, a couple of selfies and one where your whole body was visible. You probably would have more chance of quickly finding someone if you uploaded a more revealing picture, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not yet.

You took a deep breath and clicked on the button that would make your profile public, watching the message that popped up on your screen - Welcome to Secret Benefits, the number one sugar dating app in America.

Your profile had only been public for a few minutes when you received your first like and inbox message. A man saying he would pay you a thousand dollars a week and didn’t want anything in exchange, only to chat with you. Your friend had warned you about this kind of scam so you simply rolled your eyes and reported the profile.

Browsing through the app you quickly realised that most people on there were men over forty searching for a pretty thing to parade around with. You knew it was the whole point of this app and those kind of relationships, but still.

It felt like you had been scrolling for hours when a profile finally caught your eye. Larissa, 48. Her picture was what first caught your attention. The woman was half-turned from the camera, holding a glass of red wine in her hand. Her white hair was tied in an intricate updo, her lips painted with a crimson red that matched her nails and her blue eyes fixed on the camera as if she had caught the photographer in the act of taking her picture. It almost felt like she was looking right at you. She looked beautiful.

You clicked on her profile, hoping to learn more about the woman. You read her body description, eyes widening when you reached the height criteria and read that she was 6’3. She looked like the type of woman who enjoyed wearing heels and you felt dizzy at the thought of a two metres tall woman towering over you.

You noticed that she had picked “Unspecified” for the monthly income. You weren’t sure what that meant exactly. Was she wary about sharing her income? Strange, given the kind of app you were on. Or perhaps she was old money. She did look wealthy, the kind of woman who would have grown up in a rich family and inherited it all.

She had listed a few of her interests in her bio. Art, luxury fashion and haute couture, feminism. There was a single sentence written underneath, one that had your breath hitch in your throat.

“I call myself a hedonist, I seek utmost pleasure in everything I do.”

And that was enough to have you hooked. You didn’t care about the other thousands of profiles on the website anymore. You only cared about her. Larissa, her sapphire eyes and crimson lips, her hedonistic lifestyle and promise of utmost pleasure, and most importantly - her money.

You clicked on the little heart next to her profile picture, like your friend had told you to do. Now you were supposed to wait and see if the woman would like your profile in return. You could have sent a private message straight away, but your friend said it was better not to, it would make you look too desperate. I am desperate, you thought.

It was only hours later, when you were freshly out of the shower and about to get into bed, that your phone pinged and you quickly grabbed it to check the notification.

Larissa liked you back! The start of a beautiful story?

You stared at the notification for a minute, what were you supposed to do now that she had actually liked you back? You weren’t even expecting to get that far when you signed up.

You sat down in bed still wrapped in your towel and took a deep breath. How were you even supposed to engage in a conversation with a woman like her?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a while. Everything you could think of sounded lame and you even considered calling your friend for some advice but it would have just been embarrassing.

You: Hi there! I came across your profile and was very intrigued by your sophistication and the way you described yourself. How has your day been?

That wasn’t too bad. At least you hadn’t sent a cheesy pickup line.

The little “seen” quickly appeared under your message and you bit your lip in anticipation.

Larissa: Good evening! Thank you for reaching out. My day's been quite busy with work, but I'm always up for interesting conversations. How was yours?

Okay, she had answered. She had liked you back and she had answered. Great, it was great.

You: I'm glad you're taking the time to chat. My day's been mostly filled with classes and hanging out with my friends, a normal day in the life of a college student haha. What do you do for work?

Larissa: I’d rather keep my work private, at least for now. But I promise I’m not doing anything illegal! College student, what do you study?

Well, that was a bit strange, although you could see why someone wouldn’t want to share their work field on this kind of app, there was no doubt those arrangements could ruin some people’s lives.

You: Sure, no worries! I study marketing. It’s not always easy but I enjoy it for the most part. I’m really curious about what brings you to this app?

The message was read almost instantly but it took the woman a few minutes to answer. Was she hesitant? Searching for the right words?

Larissa: I appreciate your curiosity. I'm mostly looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement where we can both enjoy each other's company and experiences. What about you? What are you looking for on here?

A mutually beneficial arrangement, that was certainly one eloquent way to put it.

Larissa: I'm seeking someone who can support me as I navigate my studies. I live on my own and have a job on the side but it’s getting really hard to finance everything alone. Plus, I think having someone older in my life, someone with more experience, could only be beneficial. It’s all about benefits and enjoying the finer things, isn’t it?

Larissa: It is! I suppose it’s the main reason why so many young women are on this app. Tell me, what do you enjoy doing in your free time?

You: Well, I honestly don’t really get much free time. But I like to sit down with a nice book whenever I can. I enjoy going for walks and I could spend hours in the kitchen cooking and baking. What about you? Any favourite ways to unwind?

Larissa: I don’t get much free time either if I’m being honest. I’m a busy woman. I do enjoy sitting by the fireplace with a book and a glass of red, one of life’s simple pleasures. I love exploring art galleries, trying out new restaurants and I sometimes, although very rarely, indulge in spa retreats.

Spa retreats? These things cost a fortune! You were lucky if you could indulge yourself in a night out with your friends!

The two of you kept exchanging for a while. You learnt that Larissa was British, that she had moved over here for her studies. She loved travelling, had been to many places around Europe and was a big fan of French cuisine. She felt like the kind of woman you could listen to for hours without ever getting bored.

It was getting late, your eyes were practically closing themselves and you knew you would be absolutely exhausted in the morning, but you didn’t want the conversation to end.

You had been talking for nearly two hours when the woman asked if you had ever dined at Ambrosia, a restaurant way out of the centre of Jericho. You snorted loudly as you searched the restaurant on Google and realised it was a gastronomic one. Did she really think you could afford that kind of place?

You: No, I’ve never been there. But I’ve just googled it and it looks like a nice place!

Larissa: It’s my favourite restaurant in Jericho, I think I must have tried everything on the menu by now. Would you like to join me there for dinner, let’s say on Saturday night?

Saturday night? You quickly checked your schedule, you were working at the bar that day.

You: I would love to, I really would love to, but I’m working that day and I can’t miss a shift…

Larissa: If it’s about the money, you don’t need to worry. Call your work tomorrow, let them know they will need to find someone to fill in for you on Saturday.

You swallowed thickly. What if this was some joke? What if you showed up at the restaurant and she wasn’t there? You would miss your shift, and lose money for nothing. But if she did show up…

You: Fine, I’ll call in the morning. What time should we meet at the restaurant?

Larissa: 6.30 pm? If you give me your address I will have a car sent for you. However, I understand if you feel wary about giving that kind of information to a stranger.

You did feel more than wary about giving her your address. For all you knew it could be some creep hiding behind that profile. But if you didn’t take the leap, you might miss a great opportunity. So you did it, you sent Larissa your address and thanked her for wanting to send a car.

Larissa: Thank you, darling. The car will pick you up at 6. I should probably let you get to bed now, I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep during one of your classes. Thank you again for reaching out, it’s refreshing to connect with you.

You: Thank you, Larissa. Likewise, I enjoyed our conversation. See you on Saturday!

You closed the app and took a deep breath. You were insane, absolutely deranged. Who in their right mind would agree to something like this so quickly? You groaned and pulled the duvet over your head. You’d think about this later, all you wanted at that moment was to sleep.

-

Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. Your friend had asked you if you’d had any luck on the app yet and you lied, telling her that no one seemed interested in you yet. Maybe you would tell her about your meeting with Rissa once it’d be done. Maybe.

You had exchanged a few more messages with Larissa the next day, just to keep in touch and let her know that you were looking forward to meeting her, and so was she.

The doorbell of your flat ringing woke you up early on Saturday morning. You quickly threw on some pyjamas and went to open, your eyebrows shooting up when the courier handed you a big cardboard box.

“What the hell?” You whispered to yourself as you placed the box down on your coffee table.

You grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and carefully cut the tape, holding your breath as you opened the box. There was a small note on top of something wrapped in gold tissue paper.

I picked you an outfit for tonight, I had to guess your size using your pictures but I’m pretty certain it will fit. I suggest wearing a pair of black heels with it. See you tonight, darling.

-Larissa

You had to read the notes a few times to make sure you weren’t just making things up. She had picked you an outfit, really? Did she think you couldn’t dress up on your own? Well, to be fair you weren’t sure you had anything chic enough in your wardrobe, but still.

You carefully opened the tissue paper and your breath hitched as you unfolded the black slip dress that she had picked for you. The silk fabric felt incredibly soft under your fingertips and the lace trim on the neckline was beautiful.

“Simone Rocha.” You read the tag out loud. The name did ring a bell somewhere in your mind, was that a designer dress? Well, at least now you knew the woman was serious about taking you out for dinner tonight.

You were about to close the box when you noticed there was something else in there. You picked it up, eyes growing wide at the sight of a burgundy thong. It was beautiful. Made out of lace and embroidered with floral details, it probably cost more than your whole underwear drawer.

You bit your lip looking at the two items of clothing in your hands. Maybe you could get used to this lifestyle.

-

The car sent by Larissa arrived at your place at 6 pm sharp. You quickly put on your heels, fixed your lipstick, and took a last look at yourself in the mirror. The dress fitted you like a glove and you had rarely felt that beautiful in a piece of clothing, you looked expensive.

Hundreds of thoughts were rushing through your brain as you sat in the back of the car and absentmindedly looked outside the window.

And suddenly it hit you - would Larissa be expecting sex from you? Your eyes widened at the possibility. You had not talked about this. Sure, the woman had said she wanted someone to spend time with, but spending time with someone could mean a lot of things!

You were almost thinking about changing your mind and going home when the car pulled over and the driver let you know that you’d reached your destination. You took a look at the building outside and swallowed thickly. There was no going back now.

You thanked the driver and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You were halfway to the restaurant door when you heard your name being called, causing you to spin on your heels.

“Larissa?” You asked as your eyes landed on the woman walking towards you. She looked just like her picture - tall, elegant, beautiful.

“Yes!” She smiled and nodded.

Noticing that she looked you up and down, you allowed yourself to do the same. She was wearing an emerald fitted dress that perfectly hugged her waist and hips. Her legs had to be the longest you’d ever seen, they seemed to go on and on until you finally reached the silver heels that were on her feet.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled back, feeling a bit awkward and not knowing what to say.

“Likewise.” Larissa answered and pulled the door open to let you in, her hand falling on the small of your back as she followed you inside.

Everything inside the restaurant reeked of wealth. The high ceiling, the polished wood floor and the leather seats. You were out of place and you felt like everyone around you knew it.

“Miss Weems, good evening!” A waiter flashed the woman a bright smile. “Your usual table?”

“Good evening, Adam. Yes please, the usual.” Larissa nodded and her hand on the small of your back gently pushed you, signalling for you to follow the waiter.

You sat down at the table and could immediately tell why it was Larissa’s favourite table. It was at the back of the restaurant, in a quieter space, and it had a perfect view of all the other tables.

The waiter brought the menu almost immediately and made a few suggestions as he poured two glasses of water. You could feel the older woman staring at you as you opened the menu and flipped through the pages. Everything was expensive, a whole three-course meal in this place would cost as much as your biweekly grocery budget. It was insane.

“Anything tempting you?” Larissa smirked, a strange glint in her eye.

“Um…Yes, yes there is a few things that sound really good.” You nodded and pushed an awkward smile.

“The dress suits you perfectly. You picked the perfect shoes to go with it.”

A blush crept up your cheeks hearing the compliments and you pushed out a shy “thank you”.

“Are you wearing everything that I picked?” Larissa asked, her head slightly tilting to the side.

Her eyes briefly dropped to your chest - no bra, that was the right choice for this kind of dress. Larissa was pleasantly surprised. She had purposefully chosen not to include a bra in the package but she wasn’t sure if you’d wear one of your own.

“Yes,” Your cheeks turned a deep red, not far from the colour of the thong you were wearing. “I’m wearing everything you picked. Thank you, by the way, I loved your selection.”

Larissa’s nostrils flared and she let out a satisfied hum, looking up when Adam reappeared by your table.

Larissa went first, there were far too many French words in her order for you to understand properly, but you enjoyed hearing her accent. It was like honey dripping from her lips. When you snapped out of your thoughts, the waiter was looking down at you expectantly. You opened your mouth to place your order only to be cut off by the tall woman’s voice.

“She will have the seared foie gras as an entrée, followed by the filet mignon - medium rare - with grilled asparagus, and the passion fruit mousse for dessert.” Larissa said, her sapphire eyes looking at you above the menu.

Your mouth dropped open. First, she had picked your whole outfit down to your panties, and now this. I want control, she had told you in one of her messages. You hadn’t really understood what it meant at that time, but you did now. You would never admit how turned on you were as you closed your menu and handed it back to the waiter who gave a polite nod and walked away from your table.

“You’re staring, darling.” Larissa pointed out, making you close your mouth and look away for a second.

“Sorry, I-“

“You weren’t expecting that?”

“Yeah…”

Larissa let out a soft chuckle and reached out, crimson nails taking hold of your chin to make you look at her.

“When we meet, if we meet again, I would like to be in charge of those things.” She simply said.

“In control, you mean?”

The woman’s nostrils flared again and she gave a small nod.

“Yes, in control. I do enjoy knowing you’re wearing something that I picked for you, that you will be tasting what I want you to taste.”

There was something almost erotic in the way she said it, something that sent a shiver down your spine and had your eyes dropping to the woman’s lips, watching them curve in a smirk.

“I wanted to ask-“ You mustered the courage to say. “If you would be expecting…more than just my company.”

“Sex?” The word sinfully rolled from her tongue.

“Yes.” You let out in a whisper.

“Would you like to have sex with me?”

Maybe.

“No.” It instinctively slipped from your mouth. “This is not the kind of arrangement I’m looking for.”

“Well, then I’m not expecting sex from you, no.” Larissa simply answered. She seemed sincere, like she really had not been expecting anything more than your company.

What if you had said yes, though? Would she have sex with you if you ever changed your mind? You swallowed thickly at the thought and picked up your glass, taking a couple of sips of water.

Larissa asked about your day and if you could explain what your studies consisted of, which you happily did. You told her about economics, and how you had learnt about analysing consumers and competitors. You were sure that it was boring, having to listen to these things when you weren’t involved in marketing, and yet Larissa’s eyes never left you. She gave a nod here and there, and asked more questions when something wasn’t fully clear to her. She seemed genuinely interested in you, and it felt nice.

“Thank you, Adam.” Larissa smiled when the entrées were placed on the table.

You looked down at your plate, it was beautifully presented and smelled incredible. What was it again?

“Seared foie gras,” Larissa said as if she could read your mind. “Enjoy, darling.”

“Thank you, enjoy!” You answered and picked up your fork to try the foie gras. You remembered having tasted it once, years ago at a wedding. But it didn’t taste this good in your memory.

Larissa watched your every move. She watched you push the fork inside your mouth, how you closed your eyes when the food filled your tastebuds. The foie gras was exquisite, the woman knew it, and she relished in the pleased hum that escaped you.

“What do you think?” She said, eager to hear your thoughts.

“It’s delicious, thank you for picking it.” You answered honestly, causing Larissa to let out a shuddering breath. Was she getting off on this?

The rest of the meal went smoothly. Larissa seemed determined to keep most of her life private, only answering a couple of your questions, often with well-thought answers that wouldn’t give out too much. It seemed like she enjoyed hearing you talk about yourself, though, for she asked you question after question throughout the evening.

“Thank you for tonight, Larissa.” You said when the two of you walked out of the restaurant. She had paid for the whole bill and, even though you had expected it, it still brought a blush to your cheeks.

She wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer against her, walking with you towards her car. She had convinced you to let her drive you back to your flat, although it hadn’t taken much for you to agree to it.

You sat down in the passenger seat of her Chevrolet and stayed quiet as Larissa turned on the engine and drove away from the restaurant. A silence fell between you, it was a bit uncomfortable until the older woman turned the radio on and a familiar new wave song filled the car.

Larissa softly hummed along to the tune and her hand moved to rest on your leg, just above your knee, her thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. You didn’t think you would love it as much as you did, but her hand was warm against your flesh and it simply felt right.

“I think we’ve arrived.” Larissa said as she pulled over in front of your flat.

“Mm? Oh, yeah, yes!” You nodded taking a look outside. You had been lost in your thoughts for the entirety of the ride.

Larissa leaned over and pulled something from the glove compartment before handing it to you. It was a small golden envelope with your initials handwritten on it.

“For your missed shift.” She smiled and placed the envelope in your hand.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. Now go, get some rest.” She purred. “I will text you later.”

“Goodnight, Larissa.” You bit your lip, hesitating for a second before eventually placing a kiss on the woman’s cheek.

“Goodnight, darling.” She squeezed your thigh and watched you step out of her car, waiting until you were inside the building before she drove away.

You closed the door behind yourself and let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. It had gone…surprisingly well. Larissa was truly charming, she was intelligent, eloquent, and wealthy. And she was breathtakingly beautiful.

You stepped out of your heels and walked through your flat, dropping the envelope on the kitchen counter before you made your way to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.

Thoughts of the older women flooded your mind as soon as you stepped under the hot water jet. Was she home already? What was she doing? Had she enjoyed her evening? You were pretty sure that she had. More than once you had caught her pupils dilating as you thanked her for what she had picked for you, whether it was the food or the clothing. Was she thinking about you right now like you were thinking about her?

Would you like to have sex with me? - her voice echoed through your mind and you whined, dropping your hand between your legs. There was a sense of urgency in the way you fucked yourself as you thought of Larissa being in control of you, your food, your outfit - God, you’d probably let her take control of your whole being if she asked for it.

“Fuck- Larissa!” Her name rolled from your tongue as you reached your climax, leaving you panting heavily against the shower wall. It was depraved, you thought, fucking yourself thinking of a woman you had just met.

The same thought crossed Larissa’s mind as she slowly pulled her fingers out of herself, pushing them between her lips to lick them clean. It was depraved, but you had looked so good in the dress she’d picked for you and you had been so thankful all night long.

The tall woman opened a kitchen drawer, pulled a cigarette out of it, and lit it while she poured herself a glass of red with her other hand. It usually was either one or the other, but tonight she really needed both. Larissa was hooked, she couldn’t help herself, she loved taking care of a pretty thing.

You grabbed the envelope from the counter on your way to bed, opening it once you had settled down under the duvet. Two hundred dollar bills fell on your lap, making your eyes widen. This was almost double what you’d have made for your shift tonight. You bit your lip and put the money back into the envelope before shoving it inside your bedside table. Maybe you could get used to this, spending time with a beautiful woman and being paid for it. What was that thing she said? Ah, yes, to seek utmost pleasure.

———————————————————————

taglist: @raspburrythief @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09@catechristiesstuff @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @azu-zu @barbarasstar @witchesmortuary @vigelvictoria @m1lflov3rrr @dumbasslesbi @crow-raven-crow @fridays-coven @lilfartbox1 @makkaroni221 @snakeskin-world @shawncantwrite @eveymay @gwens0girl @aemilia19 @s-c-rambledegggs @the-bagel24 @lvinhs @thefutureisus2020 @marcelinececiliarose @gela123 @a-queen-and-her-throne @dani885-xox @rando-mango @jessi-v @rosiexweill @raya0jpg @iheartmilfies @tbsoe @olivianevrakisownsme @wheresmyboo @my-silver-spring @hillary-nicks @ablsk @natasha29romanoff @kittyxtallmilfs @tallvampirelady12  @spacetoaim22 @canyoufeelmyheartsayinghi @bigwanise12 @moonyboyjay @i-love-nerdy-stuff @sapphicsticate-blog @1-800-milfdilf @isastrwbxy @bluepandastarfish @tarabeck15 @musicallovinggal @scarlettssub @jasperobsidian-blog @slightlymalicedme @anoymous614372 @i-write-sometimes-maybe @brienne-the-brave @slytherinthepms @non-binary-frogking @wife-of-gwendolinechristie @goodnightboi @anjo-iludidoefudido @imnotafruitt

[signedkoko]

Signed with Love - Helluva Cast

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤

Characters - Blitzo | Fizzarolli | Loona | Millie | Moxxie | Stolas | Striker | Verosika | Wally Wackford

Series Parts Hazbin Cast - Here! Overlords & Sins - Here!

Dear, Hey, Whats up

Oh what the hell, just be my valentine, we both know its about time I just fuckin ask.

I can't promise anything lavish, but what I do have is a kitchen and a comfortable couch. Maybe you can try showing me how to bake and we can eat what we make while watching some shitty romcoms.

Whatever makes you happy,

Oh come on, you know who wrote this.

Heeellloooooo!

I know you are usually the one to ask, but this year I wanted to change things up a little! Be my valentine?

While we could go somewhere crowded and wait forever for food, I thought maybe this year we could stay home, order a bunch of takeout, and spend time together?

And of course, I love you,

"Froggie"

Don't freak out,

I swear this isn't a ransom note, I just wasn't sure how else to ask you to be my valentine.

You know how we both wanted to go to the lovesick festival but ti was sold out? Well, don't ask how but I got tickets. Now we can go watch idiots get drunk and pass out in front of their girlfriends, and enjoy a bunch of our fav bands.

Outfit theme: Hot as fuck?

X Loona

Hi sweetie!

I know technically it's your turn for valentines this year, but I know you've been busy and I wanted to surprise you!

My parents called and told me they need someone to house sit while they are away for the week, so we could enjoy valentines on the ranch and I can show you my home! Especially the food and festivals I always tell you about.

Happy Valentines ❣

Millie

Hi dear ❣

Maybe it's getting old by now, but for yet another year I would love to have you as my valentine.

I don't know where I'd be without you, you make my hellish work at least a tad bit bearable and inspire me every day. I've already had to erase several rambles, so I'll save the rest of the sweet talk for the date. Just be ready in formal attire for 6, because we have a show to catch!

I'm sure you'll look amazing ❣

— Moxx

To the sweetest one I know,

I've been inspired by the books I've been reading to handwrite a letter to you, so you have something to keep for memory sake.

To have you by my side for another valentines is a dream come true, last year you pulled together such an amazing evening that I can only hope to outdo tonight. I would like to take you to see the stars, I know you've always asked and I believe it is about time.

Thank you for being mine,

Prince Stolas

Howdy darlin'

While originally I wasn't going to be home on time, I made sure to finish up this mission early so I can be there with ya for valentines. I'd call, but I know you swoon for romantic gestures, dontcha?

I'll handle all the details of our outing, just relax and don't worry your pretty head about a darn thing.

Can't wait to get home and see you again,

Who else?

Miss me?

I had to head out for a gig early, so sorry I couldn't catch you at the door before I left! I hope this note will suffice in the mean time.

Since I can't bring you, I have a limo headed to pick you up around five, that should give you time to get ready for the concert! Your pass is with the driver, and you've got front row seats, kay? I better see you cheering for me ❣

Happy valentines day,

Mayday 💋

Greetings, I say I say,

It's not everyday sheepish imps such as myself get such a heavenly opportunity to court a sweet thing like yourself!

For you, and you only my dear, I will spend such a lucritive holiday with my one and only. Should you accept, I am pleased to inform you that we have been invited to Ozzie's! Isn't he the kindest?

x x x x x x x

W. WACKFORD

Authors Note - Okay be honest with me WHO ARE WE ACCEPTING A LETTER FROM?? I gotta know,,, This is the last of the valentines series, I hope you all enjoyed!

[zo3mess]

Laundry girl

Summary: Laundromat is usually empty so late at night except for Adrian, until it isn’t. But there is no reason for him to get nervous around his new laundry buddy, right?

Warnings: mentions of violence, mention of death, mention of period blood, foul language and that’s all? If you notice something that might be triggering, just let me know. Also female reader and no use Y/N as far as I remember.

Word count: 3.8K

Extra songs for this fic

Masterlist of my works

Note: My ongoing brain rot with Vigilante, inspiration from the song Laundry Girl from Ludo (I politely stole a lot from their lyrics) and need to practice my English before test somehow escalated into this. This is a mess, nothing makes sense idk. Honestly, I have no idea why I decided to make it public, but hey, bad content is still content right? English is not my first language, so if you see any grammar mistakes or weird words, just ignore them. However every criticism is welcomed and appreciated.

Oh, the sweet contrast of late spring. Days warm enough to let bare skin be caressed by heating sun, yet cold nights leave shivers down the spine, a fleeting reminder that the carelessness of summer is not entirely there yet. Exactly on one of those nights, Adrian found himself in a 24-hour laundromat down the street from his small apartment. Neon lights from the sign were illuminating dark streets as well as the faint lights from inside. He didn’t like that smell that lingered in the air. Fragrances from detergents that are far too strong and mix in an unpleasant whiff, plus the disinfection and the smell from forgotten socks that got stuck somewhere between a wall and washing machine. No, thanks. He could buy his own washing machine, which would be much more practical, but why make anything easy when you can make it difficult.

When Adrian entered the familiar environment, he sighed at the strong smell hitting his nose. Temperature in the laundromat was slightly warmer than the one outside, but not enough for him to take off his hoodie. Adrian settled his bag with dirty clothes on a scraped metal table in the middle of the cramped room. There was one thing he liked about this laundromat, even though it was open almost nonstop, no one was ever there late at night like he was. Usually. Sometimes few drunks were sleeping peacefully in the corner, desperately seeking just a tad bit of warmth, but as long they didn’t do anything, Adrian had no reason to pay any attention to them. Tonight was different, his regular loneliness and peace was disturbed by another person entering the room. However screeching of old doors, quick gust of cold air and heavy tired footsteps did not alert him at all.

His mind was too focused on a single task before him, getting rid of dried blood that was plastered on his black undershirt. The one he wears under his chest plate, one that was stitched up too many times from all the slashing and tearing. Will he ever buy a new one? Of course not. Not until he finds a shirt that looks and feels the same as this one. Adrian cursed the guy that got his suit in such disheveled state. That bastard deserved a bullet to his head even before he managed to get Vigilante’s suit all messy and sticky with blood.

,,Do you need help with that?” you ask with a soft voice, a smile on your face while you look at the stranger in front of you expectantly ,,I don’t want to call myself a professional, but I can pretty much clean every stain. Or at least I haven’t been defeated so far,’’

Your question caught him off guard, his hands wincing a little. Green eyes glancing up at you with startled expression. When did you get here? Were you watching him the whole time? Crouched up above his shirt, scrubbing away with bile soap, tip of his tongue stuck out in concentration. You leaned across the table, examining his work. ,,Ketchup?’’

,,Blood actually,’’ Why would it be ketchup? He doesn’t even like ketchup. It does not taste like tomatoes at all! Goddamn lying sauce. ,,I got a really bad nosebleed. I get that a lot, that’s why my clothes are always bloody.’’ No other reason of course.

,,If your clothes are always bloody you should have no problem with cleaning them right? But I gotta admit blood is a hell of an enemy when it dries and sits on the fabric for a while. Just put it in cold water to soak off, that should do it.’’

,,Why do you know so much about cleaning blood?’’ Adrian asks with suspicion in his voice. Eyebrows furrow under his glasses and his eyes stare at you intently. Paranoia creeping up on him again.

,,Well I don’t know if you noticed but I’m a woman. Periods teach you a lot. I’m not some blood-stained killer I swear.’’ You say the last sentence with a wide smile, shaking your head before returning to your own work. Throwing dirty laundry into the washing machine without even glancing back at Adrian. He was standing there with fingers tapping on the metal table, burning a hole in the back of your skull with his stare. Yeah, you better not be. He thinks to himself.

He forced a smile and went back to scrubbing, he did not have the time to soak it off, he needed it ready for tomorrow, preferably without blood. You paid him no mind and pushed the button to start the cycle. With a sigh you took out a small book from the laundry basket you brought with you and sat down on a screeching chair nestled between other washing machines. If you have to sit it out here you might as well do something productive.

,,Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” his voice made you flinch and you glanced at him absentmindedly ,,I love that movie!”

,,Book’s even better.” You acknowledged his giddiness with simple words. The truth is you enjoyed reading books after you watched movies that were based on them. Sometimes they were better, sometimes worse, but they always expanded the story and the universe.

,,Reading is for nerds plus it can’t be that much better.” Doubting Thomas, of course. Adrian quickly waved off the idea that books can be better than movies.

,,There is extremely many things that did not make it in the movie, not gonna mention directive changes. But go on, live your life without all the great details.” You returned to your reading, barely registering quiet mumbling coming from Adrian’s direction.

,,What are you doing here anyway? I come here almost every Saturday and I am alone here.” He won’t drop it, curiosity gets the better of him most of the time, why would this be any different? It is suspicious that another girl is washing her laundry in the middle of the night. The fact he is currently getting rid of blood from the undershirt he wears out to kill criminals is an entirely different story.

,,My washing machine broke and I don’t have spare money to buy a new one. I’ll be coming here until my next salary.” The other option is attempting to fix it yourself, that would be a death sentence for the washing machine and you too.

,,But why so late? It’s way past midnight.”

,,Couldn’t sleep.” You just shrugged. You did not care if he believed you or not, it was true. Your new neighbors were blasting music practically all evening, it was better to wait it out elsewhere. ,,It seems we will be meeting each other more often. I didn’t catch your name.”

,,It’s Adrian.” His voice was hesitant, suspicion rising and falling with each word you said. He’s not sure if you are a poor soul with dirty laundry or a spy hired to watch the infamous Vigilante. How would you even know his secret identity? He had no idea, but sometimes it is better to account for all possibilities. You nodded at his answer and told him your name in return. Little something he burned into the back of his mind.

The more time you spent together in the chilly room, words drowned out by buzzing washing machines, the more you got along. Starting off with awkward small talk, through petty debate whenever books are better than movies, all the way to wishing each other goodnight as well as Adrian wishing you had a monster under your bed and parting ways. Only if he knew monster wasn’t the one creeping up on you in your sleep. Thoughts of tonight busying your mind.  

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

The second time he met you was two weeks from the last encounter, just the way he mentioned previously. This time you were there first, already occupying one machine with white clothes while the other part of your laundry sat in a basket nearby. You quickly shot him a smile and he greeted you in return.

,,You’re here early.’’ Adrian commented almost under his breath as he put full duffel bag on the table and began sorting his clothes by colors.

,,Yeah well, no reason for it really. Maybe curiosity got the best of me and I got here earlier just to see if you would came like you said you would.’’ It seems that old habits die hard. Unknown to you, Adrian was always on time in his routines. Even if he wanted to do his laundry on a different day or at a different time, his body would urge him to do things in the exact same way.

The conversation went on quite smoothly, like good old friends meeting. Usual chatter about their days, unnecessary details of “total baller” breakfast from Adrian’s side, gossip about migraine-inducing coworkers from yours. Adrian attention was glued to every word you said, piece by piece putting together a bigger picture. He can’t even remember the last time someone actually wanted to talk with him and not just wave him off with dismissive answers.

,,- And then she put a fucking poster on our shared fridge. That stupid one with cat on a tree with “Hang in there” under it. And I thought our office could not get any more stereotypical,” you were throwing your hands around, visibly stating your annoyance at your coworker Debbie. ,,I don’t want to “Hang in there” I would much rather hang myself and I swear to God I will hang her in janitor’s closet if she puts another poster on the fridge or tells me a cheesy joke about how much she hates her husband, it’s not funny.”

She’s joking, Adrian, don’t sweat it out. There is no way she could kill anyone. His inner thoughts creep up to him again. From time to time, he would appreciate if his Vigilante mind left Adrian alone. ,,So uhhh… You don’t like cheesy jokes?” Yeah, great save, do not mention hanging Debbie.

,,I like jokes, just not stupid ones. To be honest I can’t remember the last time someone told me a funny joke. I guess it is a curse of modern times, humor changed.” You shrugged your shoulders and walk around the crumpled room, looking around and taking in details you missed on your first visit.

,,I could tell you a funny joke. I know plenty of them!” Adrian’s enthusiasm made you stop in your tracks. He’s just standing there, a wide smile forming on his face, fingers fidgeting with hem of dirty shirt that laid in mountain of laundry on the table in front of him.

Even if you told him no, Adrian has decided to recite every joke he knew. Some of them were horrible, some of them were… better. Yet it did not made you laugh. It was a fun game to pass the time, he told you lousy jokes and after each one he patiently waited for your reaction with puppy eyes. You, on the other hand, had tried so hard to not even let a corner of your mouth turn upwards. The bigger satisfaction it brought the more he stammered as he tried to remember another joke. Adrian could not let himself be a loser in this situation. He will not give up.

Not laughing at his jokes should be illegal. And that would make you a criminal. In that case, he would not feel bad if he had to take you out as Vigilante. And maybe if he got rid of you, he wouldn’t feel that irritating need late at night, body itching to go to the laundromat near his apartment to see if you couldn’t sleep either. If you’re scrubbing spilled wine from your shirt with cheap detergent before throwing it in a washing machine with the rest of your clothes. If you’re waiting patiently not only for your clothes to dry but also for that funny stranger with curly hair and a dorky smile to show up. Maybe then his mind would calm down again. He doesn’t need any more distractions in his head.

,,Knock knock,’’ he starts again, determined to win this imaginary joke war.

,,Come in,’’ you retort while chuckle is threatening to slip from your lips. Adrian’s arms slouch down his body, enthusiasm transforming into… Annoyance? He so desperately wants to see you smile, why can’t you comply? People usually laugh at his jokes, or more like they laugh at him. No matter the reason, people occasionally laugh in his presence alongside constant eye rolls. You haven’t done either and it is messing with him.

,,Knock knock,’’ a firmer repetition. He’s not going to get discouraged.

Determination is admirable in certain situations, in others it just leads to doom.  Like that one time when Adrian was chasing a thief down the street, low on bullets, ringing in his ears, lungs burning, but he could not forgive himself if that rat got away. All his attention was set on the dark figure way ahead of him that he did not notice a car when he sprinted across a badly lit street, ultimately knocking him down. Heavens were on his side that night, nothing serious happened except for a few nasty bruises and unrelenting remorse that haunted him following weeks. But the good kind of determination? That’s gonna win him a smile from a pretty girl in the laundromat.

,,Who’s there?’’ this time you decided to go along with his joke. These types of jokes are… foul, but you just want to see where he will land with it.

,,Honey bee,’’

,,Honey bee who?’’

,,Honey bee a dear and get that for me please?’’ Adrian says it with a wide smile and excitement in his voice. He points at your laundry beads that boost the scent. ,,It smells so good when you open it, can I try it?’’

You laugh just a bit. Fucking finally. Now Adrian felt like at the top of the world. He made you laugh, no matter if it was just a pitying laugh to get him to shut up, he decided to believe you actually found him funny and no one could take that from him. You noticed the dreamy look that plastered his face, especially when you let him borrow scented beads. Part of you cherished the fact he liked the ones you washed your clothes with every time and part of Adrian cherished the fact that now his clothes will smell like you before it wears out. That his sleeping shirt will carry part of you on those nights that he doesn’t see you here.

Wait, when did that happen? Smell of another person on his clothes should weird him out, it should give him goosebumps all over his pale skin. Why does it sound so comforting this time? Why does he want to keep part of you close? The last time he felt something similar was when his brother Gut died. They weren’t super close, but his death hit him like a train and he quite literally became a trainwreck. Adrian sat in his brother’s childhood room for hours, taking notes of all the small details, remembering the exact position of each and every piece of furniture. And at times when he felt close to breaking into tears, he took out his brother’s shirts. The familiarity and memories brought comfort. Comfort that disappeared as fast as it came.

This time he was not mourning death of someone close to him, this time he did not miss the feeling of adrenaline that he felt with Peacemaker when they shot appliances in forest or when they killed criminals together before he got locked up. This time Adrian felt a need to be close to someone he met just a few weeks ago, someone who barely knew him and had not gotten the chance to be taken back by his weirdness.

These thoughts and confusion followed him home that night. Not even the cold air could not break him out of trance. The way you laughed, the way you softly wished him goodnight when you parted ways, skin illuminated by purple neon light hanging above laundromat, and the way his now clean laundry smells like you since he begged for your scented beads. Pull yourself together Adrian.

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

,,I don’t understand how you might think Fargo is better than the Office or Better Call Saul for example. Saying it is the best show ever made is crazy.” Friendly banter about TV series was accompanied by clicking of your flip-flops as you made your way towards your apartment complex just a couple blocks away from the laundromat. Adrian had insisted that he walks you home this time, apparently he was afraid you might “fall asleep on your way home” since you two spent almost the whole night in the laundromat.

Not just doing laundry, you also brought your book, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and read out loud for him to hear the difference between book and movie. While you waited for your clothes to dry you two sat on uncomfortable chairs, you with book wide open, pages visible for Adrian to peek from behind your shoulder whenever he wanted. Though most of the time he spent with his eyes closed, face leaning on a stock of washing machines next to him, listening to your reading like a bedtime story. Even after your laundry was done you decided to stick around, competing who flicks quarters farthest, catching peanuts in your mouth and testing echo in every washing machine. Until you finally decided to head home and get at least few hours of sleep, by that time it was past 5 a.m.

Sun was lazily rising, yellow painted the sky but few dark clouds were spoiling the otherwise beautiful picture. The smell of rain was in the air, you both knew there was a storm coming on a calm Sunday morning. Few joggers passed you in a hurry. Early birds. Psychopaths. Not like Adrian wasn’t psychotic at least a bit, but he wasn’t that mad to get up so early to run in still-cold weather.

,,What do you think is the best show then?” he calmly asked and nudged your shoulder with his own, encouraging you to answer.

,,Well… I think the best show is The Kids in the Hall, undying classic.” You knew your walk slowly but surely reached its end. You could see your main entrance, the fact you were reaching your home was setting you aflame in the worst way possible. Nonetheless, your eyelids grew heavy and you could not stop yourself from yawning every few seconds, an unavoidable need to fall into your bed and surrender to sweet slumber.

,,That show is like 100 years old! Dinosaurs watched it!” Adrian shook his head with laughter. You didn’t find his jokes funny but you loved this out of all the shows. Unbelievable.

,,Hey! If you call that show old, it is like you’re calling yourself old! Should I call nursing to pick you up?” You stopped in front of your apartment complex, not entirely sure Adrian realizes this is where your hangout ends. You spin around to face him and quickly jab him in the chest with your finger.

,,Ha ha, very funny. But really? So many good shows and you pick this one? And call me out for liking Fargo? You have horrible taste.” He couldn’t let this go now he saw how adorable you looked when you were angry. What is the worst that can happen if he teases you more, right?

,,Shut it, Adrian. I’m serious.” You said that so calmly it almost took him aback, however he could see the fire burning behind your eyes. It only riled him up more.

,,You can’t make me-“ You grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down swiftly. The best solution to shut him up was to press your lips against his. A firm, simple kiss that sent electricity through your body. You felt a muffled yelp that escaped Adrian’s mouth when you surprised him in such an affectionate manner. And at that moment, when your lips touched his, for the first time in a while his mind was quiet, yet his soul was singing. Time stopped, eyes were tightly shut, heart hammering inside, begging to jump out of his chest, one of his hands found its place on your forearm in uncertainty and took a step closer to get his body closer to you.

You, on the other hand, were fully aware of what was happening. The feeling of gratification that you “won” an argument was the last thing on your mind. The only thing you could think of was acting up on your secret wishes that swam through your head every time you went to the laundromat to see him.  Suddenly aware of everything, you felt the heat that radiated from Adrian’s body, warming you up in cold air, a few raindrops making you shiver as they fell on your skin. Or were you shivering from the closeness of this intimate act? If anyone asked you would not be able to answer. It did not matter anyway, the only thing that mattered was you kissing him.

The kiss lasted only for a few seconds, but you would both swear it was an eternity. When you pulled away, slowly and delicately, Adrian still had eyes closed, hand hanging in the air where your arm used to be. You realized his mind was completely shut off. A smile formed on your lips at the thought of shutting Adrian up this way every time he brings up some stupid nonsensical squabble. You left him standing there as rain started to fall on his hair, diamonds in those dark brown curls. And when he finally came to his senses and decided to open his eyes… You were gone. Coldness on his body where you were pressed together, sparks lingering on lips, sweet perfume filling his nose, those should be indicators that it was very much real, but his mind was not certain. How could it be, when the stupid brain ceased the second his dreams came true.

You quickly ran upstairs to your apartment, running up to the window in your kitchen and from behind a curtain you watched confused Adrian, who was walking in the opposite direction. What other choice did you leave him than to head home and wonder. Wonder about what you were doing when raindrops splattered on the sidewalk, sounding like your flip-flops. Wonder if you’re already sleeping safe and sound in your bedroom like he will when he reaches his home. Wonder if you kiss him again once you see each other next week in the laundromat. Wonder if the laundry girl was real or just a dream.

[restinslices]

Hello! I just read your recent post on the lin Kuei trio trying to bring back the reader's memories after it has been tainted and was wondering if you could do part 2 where the trio finally succeeded in restoring the reader's memories?

I haven’t seen those movies in awhile but I googled it and apparently only therapy can help? I went off what Google said. No gifs cause I got lazy. I ain’t even finna lie to you

Bi-Han doesn't show it, but he's in so much pain 

It's not because everytime you see him, you try to kill him 

If hating him for the rest of your life meant that you'd be happy, he'd take it 

But you're not happy. It's not a bad breakup and you hate him but at least you're living life. No. You have insane PTSD from the torture you endured 

When he's told that the only way to help you is therapy, he's a tad bit irritated 

Therapy takes too long. He wishes he could fight some enemies, use some magic, then boom. Everything's okay 

Speaking of those enemies though, he's definitely tracking them down and killing them 

He finds it difficult to watch your therapy sessions so he distracts himself with duties 

After a few failed tests, you're finally able to be in the same room as him without trying to kill him 

When he sees you look at him with love instead of hatred, all his tension is released 

Your memories are still a little wonky but you're healed enough to know that they're manipulated 

He's more than happy to tell you what really happened and make new memories with you 

He's more soft afterwards because he's afraid of triggering you 

It takes a lot of work but he's willing to do all of it if it means you'll be okay with him holding you again 

Seeing you be so terrified of him is like a living nightmare 

It's such a difficult situation because there's no easy way to help you 

It's not like a broken bone. You've been made to fear him and your memories are tainted

Therapy is the only thing that can help you 

It takes a while, and he hates it 

He's told to avoid face to face contact with you during your recovery 

So he watches you sneakily 

He watches you rediscover your memories day by day

When you ask to see him, he's a bit nervous, but he knows that that means progress has been made 

He lets you set the pace of the conversation 

Whenever there's silence, he doesn't try to fill it. He knows you need the time to gather your thoughts 

Your hand is shaky when you reach for him. He wants to try and close the space but he doesn't. He lets you take your time reaching for his hand 

When you finally touch it feels like weights have been lifted off his shoulders 

You're not 100% healed but you're making great progress. You being able to stand being around him is such a huge thing to him 

He helps you whenever you get confused and is extremely patient with you 

Definitely believes you'll make a full recovery 

After the first encounter and you trying to kill him, nobody could blame him for becoming depressed 

You were extremely volatile towards him 

Anytime you saw him you immediately tried to attack him 

When he's told therapy is the only thing that can help you, he wants to be hopeful but it's hard to 

Therapy takes time and there's no guarantee it'll even work 

He sends you gifts during your recovery. Sometimes he won't sign it so you're more willing to accept it 

Exposure therapy exhausts him, but he keeps doing it for you 

One day though your demeanor is different 

You don't rush at him or tell him to get out 

You're quiet and still. He lets the silence stay 

“I don't know what's real and what's not anymore”

“You're trying” he'd say. “That's all that matters. And I'll help you”

It gets quiet again 

You walk over to him, and instead of attacking him, you pull him into a tight embrace 

It takes him a moment to understand what's happening. Once he does, he hugs you back 

“You loved me. Real or fake?”

“I love you, and it's all real”

You two just stay like that for a while. He has no idea what's going on in your head, but in his he's ecstatic 

There was hope. As long as there was a hope, even a sliver of it, he wouldn't give up on you 

He stays by your side the entire time. Watching you slowly but surely go out of your way to be around him excites him 

He has tons of pictures and he shows you them and explains what happened whenever you get confused 

He's delighted to have you back 

[bardicindignation]

Wild, Spaghetti on the Wall Theory Time

Braius Doomseed is NOT a paladin of Asmodeus.

Based on Subclass choices, vibes, and the Sam with the out of nowhere curveball character trend that we all know and love. Sticking the rest under a read more bc this got...long.

I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out! Sam always has a curve-ball in his back pocket with the characters he plays from Scanlan to FCG, we all know this. It's possible that the back pocket deal is gonna be a last-minute betrayal bc, yk, Asmodeus but! BUT!!! Braius can cast Moonbeam, and since, according to his character wiki he's at least a ninth level paladin, he doesn't yet have the 10th bard feature that allows him to pull spells from other classes even when you're not College of Lore (he's a Tragedy Bard). This means that he's either Oath of Watchers or Ancients, and while Watcher's could make sense for the fight against Predathos regardless of what god Braius follows...that's a lot of paladin levels to have been brought out just since the gods were aware of the situation (like, a couple weeks I think?) and neither super seems like an Asmodeus associated Oath. (As opposed to, say, Crown or Conquest, or Vengeance, or Oathbreakder.) Plus, Tevan had no fucking clue who he was, and it seems like one of Asmodeus's lieutenants might be appraised of a high level follower of his Lord being tasked with going directly after Asmodeus. But Joy! You might say. Oath of the Watchers is pretty Neutral, and he could have just ! What about the sign he god from the ichor on the wall? Why would the god of Lies tell any of his followers shit? And if not Asmodeus who the fuck is Braius following??? Ok, so, first off, let's break down the Oath. I really, really, think that it's gotta be Watchers if Braius is really a follower of Asmodeus bc Ancients is not only heavily nature aligned (not something that the Lord of the Hells is at all associated with) but the language of the description of the Oath also seems heavily aligned with good (I mean just look at the tenents) and...y'all. I don't think Braius is a Watchers Paladin. First off, Sam never once asked (to my memory) about who was within 10 ft of him at the start of initiative, when Watchers would have given all of those people a bump on their initiative. Now, this could be 'new character who dis' except. Except. Sam did consistently ask Matt if people who were within 10 feet of him who were being targeted with Delilah shit were getting hit with spell damage.

Here's the Aura of Warding from the dndwikidot page on Oath of the Ancients:

"Beginning at 7th level, ancient magic lies so heavily upon you that it forms an eldritch ward. You and friendly creatures within 10 feet of you have resistance to damage from spells." Oath. Of. The. Ancients. Bitch. (also we learned that the name Doomseed came with the oath. Naaaatuuuuure. Also also, doesn't say who the doom is for) So next up, the symbol message...what the fuck was up with that? Just bc it was an Asmodeus symbol doesn't mean he's the only bitch who can interact with it...and it was specifically not coming from the structure of the symbol itself, just the run-off. This is not a super strong point, but Asmodeus is not the only god of trickery...but more on that later. Tevan Klask doesn't know who the fuck Braius is! Look, the Lord of the Hells is a lying-ass bitch. We all know this. It's entirely possible that he keeps his people out of the loop on each other. But he's gotta know that Tevan has a line to the people going in after Ludinus the most and it feels a tad weird that Hot Devil Man would have no knowledge of a high level paladin of his Lord doing the same damn thing.

Also, Braius didn't react, like, at all to Tevan getting banished by Ludinus which feels...a little weird. So. So. If not Asmodeus, then who? What other Trickery, Nature, romance (the flirting is constant which isn't necessarily a firm indicator but c'mon) alligned deity is out there with not only what is possibly the strongest connection to whatever the fuck is going on with Predathos, but also has direct experience with followers of one 'deity' masquerading as another which could have been extremely effective without actual divine intervention? That's right, it's the motherfucking Moonweaver!! Just going by her title, it's entirely possible that this bitch was ultimately responsible for trapping Predathos in the first place, and we've heard suspiciously little of her in C3. Her cleric domains include both Trickery and Nature, and she's heavily associated with deception, misdirection, lover's trysts, and moonlight.

Yk, like with a Moonbeam. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

(My second, last minute theory is that Sam's still playing a follower of Avandra who also has Moon, Trickery, and Nature under her domains. This would be extremely funny to me. Wait fuck I'm still saying Moonweaver for my first choice but the wiki is telling me that The Changebringer is the Archenemy of the Lord of the Hells...fuck. Fuck Sam did you do this Sam let me in your brainnnnn.)

[darkdemeter]

Y/N “WOLFIE’S” PANEL

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

(Platonic) Avengers cast x GN/Female/Male Reader Feat. on the panel: Elizabeth Olsen, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie & Robert Downey Jr.

A/N — So this was delayed at first because I'd kinda gotten second thoughts, then did a bit of research (just watched some of the cast in interviews and stuff). And then I thought "fuck it, write it." So I did just that. Though I'm not counting on this being "top tier" and very well may be the only time I do this sorta thing. Because I have come to realise when writing this... I CANNOT write celebrities, so great kudos to those who can, and also they make it look so easy!

WORD COUNT — 1.7k

READER DISCRETION — Nothing that should be potentially triggering— maybe slight insecure reader? Nothing really, just that little "did I do good?" y'know? — just Y/N with the avengers cast— Y/N being a little blushing, embarrassed mess

SUMMARY— You meet your fellow cast members on the panel for Comic Con, the debut for the final instalment to Habits of Mother Nature's Will releasing that weekend at the premiere.

You can read the columns here — HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL II HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL II: AFTERMATH

You never thought you would hear anything louder than the sound of applauding fans and cheers as your name was announced by the panel moderator.

You swaggered onto the stage, your outfit was casual but styled in a way that could pass for formal dress easily. Your hair styled to what you favoured most. 

You raised your arm up and waved to the crowd who roared with such vigour, you silently admitted to yourself it was a tad bit intimidating. But you were excited for this panel. To be beside your cast members who you had bonded with over the course of production, and to finally meet those who loved the project as well. 

The Avengers series had been a cinematic hit and when you signed the contract, had anyone told you that the three part short series would have been a major hit for audiences, you would have scoffed.

Your co-stars each turned and greeted you with grins as they waved you over. “There they are!” Chris announced into his microphone with a wide grin.

 You were assigned to sit between Lizzie and Chris. Anthony sat on Lizzie’s other side. 

“Where you been, Y/N? We missed you,” Anthony questioned you with a pout, hands forming a heart over his chest. You chuckled and held up your other hand that held a cup of coffee.

“I needed my fix, leave me alone,” you grumbled. Lizzie squeezed your shoulder lightly with a shake of her head, ushering the others to stop picking on you.

“And you didn’t bring me one,” Anthony tutted and Seb called after him, “the betrayal.”

The crowd laughed and cheered.

“So we were just about to get to the fans' questions, Y/N, and I don’t doubt a lot of them have questions about your character in particular,” the moderator said to you and you nodded. 

“Prepare yourself for marriage proposals, Y/N. There is always at least ten for each of us,” Robert said, his voice deep and calm over the mic system. 

Your face went bright red. “Well…” you wanted to swear out of habit, but you held your tongue, your head fell forward. “Dammit.”

More laughs came from the audience. The microphone was set up and any fans who had questions were directed to stand in the queue.

The first fan was a young woman, probably about college age. You leaned forward, your arms folded on the table and made your clothes pull against your frame and you looked intensely focused on the fan. Engaged with what they had to say.

The very act made quite a few people swoon and scream, only your eyes flickered to your cast mates with a raised brow.

“I think the proposals have increased quite a bit now,” Chris said with a smirk. It didn’t help relieve the flush in your face when a few whistles of agreement followed his statement. 

The girl giggled nervously into the mic in front of her and you refocused your attention on her. “Hi,” she said through her giggles and you nodded, hand lifting slightly to wave. 

“Hey, how are you?” you asked and she nodded, “good thank you. I just want to say personally I’m a huge fan of the character, C/N, and I just wanted to ask you how you felt when you got the role to portray them?”

You raised your brows under the weight of the question. You smiled and thanked her for the question. “Hmm, well, I’m not gonna lie it felt scary that I wouldn’t be able to portray the character, but the script writer and director - along with my cast members - they really helped me where I felt I lacked in providing the performance that C/N would. So yeah, thank you for that question, and I’m glad you enjoyed my take on the character, other than that it was a lot of fun.”

She beamed from ear to ear and nodded eagerly. She thanked you profusely and expressed her excitement to see Aftermath in cinemas. Elizabeth patted your hand with a smile. “You did good,” she uttered away from the microphone and you nodded in thanks.

Another fan walked up and greeted the cast. “So I want to know, who would win in a fight against each other: Bucky or C/N?”

“Uh, the correct answer, obviously, would be Ironman.” Robert’s interjection made the crowd fall into a frenzy of hysterics. You grinned, the act natural and your own that you made signature component for your character. 

“Remember who killed your parents,” Sebastian taunted and Robert smirked down the table his way. “Uh,” Sebastian began as he leaned back in thought for a moment, “I kinda want to say Bucky. I don’t think C/N could bring themselves to hurt him. So I think he’d use that to his advantage.”

When the fan inquired about your opinion, you shrugged with a tsk. “I think C/N would only win if someone hurt Wanda.” Your answer made the fans giddy, the uproar of cheers enough to bring the roof down like an earthquake. 

“I have to say that the fight sequence was so intense, I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. The cinema I was in was in such a state, I thought it was gonna get shut down,” the next fan began with a giggle. You and your fellow co-stars couldn’t help but chuckle and smile. It really did make you happy to know that you had done well to provide fans with such excitement. The Avenger films were great and adored by the fanbase, your only wish was that you wouldn’t let the dedicated members of the production and the fans down. 

“The fight choreography was brilliant and I wanted to ask what you could share about what went on behind the scenes? Like, how was all of that done?”

Oh, that was a loaded question. “Well…,” you chuckled, “let me first tell you that the entirety of my character fighting in their ‘wolf form’ was me. I did all the motion capture for that–” The room was filled with applaus. “Thank you. Yeah, my stunt double thought it would be funny to visit their family overseas and leave me to do all the motion capture. So I have them to thank for the harness that was riding my ass for the next couple of days,” you answered, though everyone could tell you only meant to tease, that you didn’t mean anything ill about it all. 

The experience of doing all the intense choreography was actually one of the most fun aspects you’d ever done in any of your productions thus far. 

Anthony laughed into his mic then. “I kid you not, we all have a video around twenty minutes long of Y/N doing the motion capture from the gag reel. And it’s hilarious,” he sighed at the end and earnt a laugh from the crowd. 

“It wasn’t easy, man,” you whined, “but– but when I had to do scenes that required a more realistic build, I was saved the embarrassment and actually we had my dog, D/N, do all the motion capture for that.”

A photo of your German Shepherd appeared on the screen above, your arms encircled around them, their head tilted and long tongue hung from their mouth. 

“They’re so cute!” a fan in the crowd shouted and you chuckled. “Damn adorable, I love them. I had to be on guard, I was scared Chris would take them home.”

Chris leaned over in his seat, hand slapped to his chest with a toothy grin as he cackled to himself. “I love that dog so much, what can I say?”

The fan thanked you for your time and walked back to their seat. The next fans were two girls, again around the age of college students walked up together. “Hi!” one of them greeted and the other looked incredibly shy, her friend held her close around the shoulders. 

“Hey there, how are you?” you asked again. You always asked how the fans were, a habit that was just natural. Human. Kind. 

“We’re good thanks. Uh, so this is my friend, Taylor,” she said and indicated to the other girl next to her. She waved and mumbled a meek hello into the mic. Your cheeks folded out into a smile, adoring the girl’s shyness. It was adorable. “And it’s her birthday and I want to ask if you could give her a little birthday present as your character, C/N, please? And with a cherry on top, add your wolf voice?”

Your tongue danced over your teeth as fans left, right and centre cheered and hollered. You could tell it was as much wanted by them as the fans asking for it themselves. “Just out of curiosity, who else is here for their birthday?” you asked and quite a large amount clapped in answer, a view yelled their response.

“Okay, so you can consider this a gift to you guys as well.” You sat forward and rolled your shoulders, getting into the mind of your character. 

“Happy Birthday, Taylor.” You stopped to let the fans burn out their screams before you continued. “Told you, marriage proposals all of them,” Robert commented just as you went to speak and you broke out of character for a moment, face palming your hand. 

“Go on, Wolfie, you gotta appease the fans,” Robert uttered with a wave of his hand to usher you on.

“I hope you have a wonderful birthday. Wanna play fetch some… sometime in the park?” Despite the momentary hiccup, unable to contain the embarrassed giggle in your throat as your face brightened, you finished. 

Even some of your castmates imitated getting flustered, even Lizzie herself fanned her face. Taylor hid her face in her palms and her friend thanked you. 

The other beauty of your performance was that the sound editors had little to do with mixing your vocals for the werewolf voices, you had a knack for making it naturally guttural and animalistic. 

Anthony snickered playfully. “So I think we can agree that Y/N “Wolfie” has taken over the panel. Can we get a shout or clap if you enjoyed Y/N’s performance of C/N?”

You don’t know how it was possible, but that was the loudest you’d heard the fans. 

[eddiexmunsonlover-archive]

One Step Away From You (Chapter 10)

BSF!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

Follow my new blog for future chapters & fics @eddiexmunsonlover

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Chapter Summary: You and Eddie attend the concert you gave him tickets to for Christmas. The concert and Eddie's birthday celebration bring up feelings that are getting harder to ignore. WC: 3.9k Warnings: MDNI. Explicit language. Underage drinking. Implied and assumed fatphobia. Descriptions of anxiety and emotional overwhelm. Lots of angst. I know, it's torture. I know this is a tad shorter of a chapter, but the end felt like a good place to separate it from the next chapter, which will be bigger and longer. Might even be the chapter we've all been waiting for, perhaps? And we've gotta have a bit more angst before we get there! Series taglist: @eddie-is-a-god @siriusmaraudeers @amandahobblepot @littlexdeaths

Thursday, January 16th, 1986

You study yourself in the mirror, contemplating your concert outfit with a level of uncertainty. You’ve decided to go bold, show a little more skin than usual. It is a rock concert, after all. 

Scandalously high-cut black shorts, fishnet tights, combat boots, a WASP shirt cut into a tank top, and your newly patched jean jacket to keep you warm from the winter air outside. Hair big, curled, and teased. Face fully beat. 

You look damn good, and you know it. You feel confident too as you look at yourself from different angles in the mirror. There’s no doubt you’ll be turning heads tonight, whether it’s from a place of judgment or lust.

For Eddie, it’s the latter. From the second you step out of the trailer, his eyes nearly bulge out of his head as they take you in. He quickly picks his jaw off the ground, clearing his throat as you near before you can notice the way he’s ogling you. He can’t erase the heat that’s gone right to his cheeks, however. At least he can blame the harsh winter air on that.

“You look… stunning, sweetheart.” He throws on his usual boyish smile, hoping it’s enough to hide his true reaction. You return the compliment with a shy smile, looking down at your outfit.

“You think so? You don’t think it’s too much or… too little?”

“No no no, you uh, it’s perfect. Trust me.” His reassuring smile calms your hesitation as you quickly follow him to the passenger side of the van. 

He holds the door open for you as usual, cursing himself and whatever cruel god there is when his eyes catch sight of your ass as you climb in. He huffs in frustration as he rounds the van to the driver's seat, wondering how the hell he’s going to keep it together tonight with you looking like this. He knows one thing for sure, it’s going to be a long one.

You spend the drive to Indianapolis blasting your WASP tapes, hyping yourselves up for the show. Big grins as you sing and bang your heads together to the beat. Excitedly sharing what songs you hope the bands play as the mile markers on the highway fly by. Before long, you see exit signs for downtown Indianapolis. 

From the passenger seat, you let your eyes roam along the buildings littering the city, people walking along the sidewalks. Spotting the concert goers within them walking toward the arena. Friends, couples, strangers. You wonder what their lives are like, thousands of different people converging in one spot for the same purpose.

The van comes to a halt amongst a sea of cars outside the arena, bright lights shooting off the building and illuminating the parking lot. You and Eddie practically skip the distance from the van to the line outside the doors. After a short wait, you’re inside and amongst crowded halls of people roaming the arena. The merch table catches your eye, you pat Eddie on the shoulder. 

“Wanna get some merch before the show starts?” He gives you a wary look as he sees the line for the table. “We’ve got time, plus once we get out there you’re not gonna want to leave the floor.”

You know him too well. He finally nods and you’re off. 

You both look over the plethora of different tour shirts for WASP and KISS, contemplating which ones you wanna get. When it’s finally your turn, you pick out your shirts. Before Eddie can fish for his wallet, you quickly pull out yours and hand the attendant the cash.

“Uh, wha- Hey, I can pay for that”

You give him a soft smile as you pass his new WASP shirt to him.

“Your birthday is next week, Eds. Consider it an early birthday gift.”

“You’re too good to me, sweetheart.” He throws his arm around your shoulder, leading you away from the merch table and back into the crowd.

As you walk through the crowded halls and wait at the bar for drinks with Eddie’s arm draped over you, your wandering eyes catch onto ones staring at you in judgment. Normally, you’d be unfazed, it’s far from the first time strangers have stared at you in a less than friendly way. But as you meet the eyes of multiple girls, pretty and skinny, you can’t help but feel like they’re not just judging you, they’re judging you standing next to the smokeshow that is Eddie with his arm around you. Assuming you’re with him. Wondering why the hell he’d be with a girl like you. 

It’s no surprise to you that outside of the small town of Hawkins, Eddie would be seen for the attractive guy he is, especially within the scene. That notion is not extended to you however, plus-size body not fully accepted even within the confines of a crowd of outcasts by society’s standards.

When Eddie hands you a cup of beer, you quickly begin taking sips. Hoping the alcohol will calm your anxieties as you move your way back through the crowds, making an effort to not meet the eyes of anyone but Eddie’s.

As you make your way onto the floor, Eddie quickly takes your hand in his. Leading and weaving his way through the crowd with you in tow, falling in close step behind him through the hundreds of warm bodies already filling the floor ahead of the show’s opener. The crowd is overwhelming enough to your senses that you don’t think much of your hand in his, a typical action friends take together at concerts, after all. When he finds a spot close enough for you to see with enough space to move, he pulls you up next to him. 

Shoulder to shoulder, sipping on your beers as you listen to the soundcheck. Anticipation fills your bodies until the sound of chatter from the surrounding crowd silences at the first note of the first song of the night from WASP, quickly turning into a loud cheer that you and Eddie join in on. You’re quickly immersed and pulled in as the bass and drums reverberate through the air and into your body. The colorful flashing lights, leather clad band members in ass-less chaps and high heels. The show, alcohol, and Eddie’s loud singing next to you fully flushing out any anxiety and worry from your mind. You’re fully living in the moment; jumping, headbanging and singing your favorite WASP songs together. 

When you look next to you and see Eddie smiling wide as he shouts the lyrics, you’re filled with an indescribable feeling. 

Satisfaction, fulfillment, happiness. 

Knowing you were able to give Eddie this opportunity to see one of his favorite bands and seeing the joy it’s bringing him.

Love.

His gleaming eyes turn to meet yours in excitement, pulling you back into the moment with him as the last song of the set begins. Screaming at the top of your lungs when the band finishes, wishing the crowd a farewell before the roadies take over to change the stage over for KISS.

You take deep breaths with Eddie as the energy fades.

“That… was metal.” he exhales, ending with an excited giggle as you bump your shoulder into his. Sweat making your bangs cling to your foreheads. You slide off your jacket, wrapping it around your waist to help you cool down before KISS’s set begins, the first time either of you have ever seen their show.

They open with Detroit Rock City, immediately lighting up the crowd. You and Eddie bob your heads around, laughing as you dance around each other, singing along to every word. You feel so light in this moment with him, so carefree.

You make me feel like I am fun again.

Neither of you know every song in the setlist, but you dance around and headbang to them like you do. Just fully enjoying the experience. 

At one point, you feel Eddie’s skin on yours. You look down to see his hand around yours, fingers entwining. 

They fit so perfectly together. 

The simple action with the high tempo of the music quickens your heart rate. He’s not even looking at you, his eyes glued to the band performing on stage, his hands sliding between yours so naturally, as if it’s second nature to him despite never doing it before. You inhale deeply through your nose, attempting to catch your breath and calm your heart, hoping he doesn’t look at you and notice how frazzled his touch has made you. 

As soon as his hands parts from yours to clap at the end of the song, your heart craves his touch again. It’s a craving so fierce, so overwhelming you don’t know what to do with it.

A craving that’s quickly subsided when his hand moves to your bare shoulder, pulling you flush against him as he leans his lips to your ear.

“You’re my best girl, you know that? Thank you for this.” 

You don’t know if it’s the little bit of alcohol in his system, the immersive energy of the show making him delirious, but you don’t think he realizes the gravity of his words as his hot breath fans over your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. You close your eyes as your chest flutters, collecting yourself before you smile up at him.

“Anything for you, Eds.”

His words and the lingering sensation from his touch on your skin stay present in the back of your mind for the rest of the show that passes by too fast.

Before you know it, KISS plays their last encore song of the night before the lights on the stage darken, and bright lights illuminate the floor. Sticky with sweat, Eddie takes your hand in his again as you fight the crowd out of the exits. Groaning at the relief of the cold January air on your hot skin as you break from the crowd and into the outside parking lot. 

You share your favorite moments on the drive home, reliving the excitement of the night as his WASP tape plays quietly in the background. The overwhelming energy of the night begins to take its toll on you as heaviness takes over your body, lazily watching the mile markers on the highway countdown your way back home.

The roar of the van quiets as Eddie parks in Wayne’s driveway. You turn to each other with a soft smile before you groan with a stretch, pulling a soft laugh from him. He walks you the short distance to your front porch steps. When you turn to face him again, he’s smiling down at you before his arms quickly wrap you up. Your head rests against his chest, the calming sound of his heartbeat against your ear. Everything about him is so addicting, intoxicating. It makes having to part from him and his embrace that much harder.

“Thank you, again.” he whispers.

Your eyes meet one another as you part, his fingertips lingering on your arms as you smile at each other. 

“You’re welcome, Eds. I’m glad you had a good time.” 

You stay like that for a moment, not speaking a word but so much conveyed in your eyes nonetheless.

This is my moment. 

He considers taking his chance as he looks at you. Doing what he’s wanted to do for so long, just kissing you here and now. Before he can muster up the courage, you sigh softly.

“Guess I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow for school?” you mutter, already dreading the sound of your alarm clock in the morning.

His gaze breaks away from yours for a brief moment as he nods, muttering a “See you tomorrow” before watching you walk up your steps and into the trailer. Mentally kicking himself for letting the moment pass and not taking his chance. Everything in his body pushing him to do it, only to chicken out again. 

His hands find their place in his jean pockets as he crosses the street, kicking spare rocks in his slow stride.

You hang your head as the water pours over you, seeping into your hair and soaking your body. Relishing in the relaxing sensation of the warm water beating against your tired body, washing away the hairspray and sweat from the night. In the quiet isolation of the shower, your mind replays the events of the night, lingering on the moments of newfound intimacy Eddie showed you. 

Eddie’s always been one to push boundaries in good fun, always quick to wrap you in a hug to show his affection or when you’re feeling down. 

Tonight was different. It seems like he was touching you more than he wasn’t, a hand lingering on your shoulder or waist, fingers entwining around yours… that one was new.

You convince yourself he was just caught up in the moment, being a protective best friend in a big, rowdy crowd. Grateful for the experience you’ve given him.

But the thought only makes you feel worse, putting a tightening grip on your heart.

His words.

You’re my best girl.

He has no idea the effects those few words would have on you. Stinging your eyes at what could be, what is, and what never will be. 

The mental fight you’re having with yourself adds a heaviness to your chest and a building pressure in your head. 

You lay your head against the shower wall as your mind rapid fire relives the moments with Eddie tonight, the last 4 months, the past years. You feel yourself begin to crack. Feelings and memories flooding your system. All the emotions you’ve bottled up the last few months building enough pressure to blow the lid off, everything you’ve held in spilling out of your eyes. Your tears mix in with the shower water as they stream down your cheeks.

As much as you want to fight it, you know that’s exactly what’s led to this moment. You give in, sitting with the pain, crying all the tears you can until the water runs cold. 

As you crawl into bed for the night, you hope it was enough to be able to move on tomorrow as if nothing happened. Closing your puffy eyes and letting exhaustion overtake you.

Friday, January 24th, 1986

Eddie’s birthday

You watch as the ice in your glass cup of Coke melts, hoping you don’t appear as bored as you feel. Wouldn’t want to put a damper on the boys’ fun, not on your boy’s special day.

Limited options in Hawkins have left you celebrating Eddie’s 20th birthday at the Hideout with Gareth, Grant, and Jeff. Fake ID’s and Eddie’s previous employment as a barback have kept the drinks coming.

It’s not the worst place, but the stuffy, stale air and faded, peeling walls leave much to be desired. You’re sure with a bit of alcohol, you wouldn’t even notice. Like Eddie and the boys, carrying the hype from tonight’s campaign to the bar with them. Lively chatter filling the space, you make a few comments here and there, but you’re not fully in it. 

You hate feeling this way on Eddie’s birthday, but the drunker the boys get, the more irritated you become. You promised to be the sober driver tonight. Your history with your Dad has always made you easily frustrated around drunk people when you’re sober, but you throw on a smile for him. Refusing to bring down his celebration.

He’s leaning against the jukebox, bobbing his head to the drums as Cum On Feel the Noize by Quiet Riot begins to play. When he turns, his eyes immediately land on you. Your stomach drops as he dances over to you with a smile, already anticipating the next words out of his mouth.

“Come on, sweetheart. Get off that stool and come dance with me!” You sigh and give him an unimpressed look to which he returns with a pout, effectively making a smile tug at your lips. You roll your eyes and walk towards him.

“You’re lucky it’s your birthday” you mumble joining him as his smile beams at you. You move your body side to side, bobbing your head with him to the beat. The other boys singing along loudly to the chorus from their bar stools grab your attention, making you laugh before you start singing along too. It doesn’t take much convincing from Eddie until they’re joining you on the empty floor. Jumping around each other and singing your hearts out, no doubt looking like a bunch of fools to the handful of middle aged regulars at the bar, but none of you care.

A few rounds later when it’s clear they’ve reached their limit, you’re corralling the drunken boys out of the bar. Eddie leaning onto you with his arm around your shoulder before you load them all into his van. When you climb into the driver's seat, he adorns a shit-eating grin as he attempts to buckle his seatbelt.

“Hehe, I get to be the passenger princess tonight.” 

As irritable as you feel, you can’t fight the grin from pulling at your lips before you bring the engine to life and pull out of the Hideout parking lot. 

You grab your pack of cigarettes, quickly lighting one and inhaling the smoke as the sound of blabbering from the 3 boys in the back fills the van.

Ahem.

You look to your side to find Eddie giving you puppy dog eyes with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Would you be so kind?”

“Oh, where are my manners? Anything for you, princess.” You enthuse dramatically, bringing the lighter to the end of his cigarette.

The flame illuminates his dimples and the smirk forming them. Even drunk off his ass, he’s so damn cute. 

With his cigarette lit, you pull your attention elsewhere. Keeping an eye on the road while you thumb through his collection of tapes in the center console. You find the perfect one, quickly sliding the Queen tape into his radio, fast forwarding to the exact time Bohemian Rhapsody starts. Earning a chorus of “OHH”s at the easily recognizable piano notes in the intro. The five of you sing at the top of your lungs as you barrel down the nearly empty Hawkins streets. Laughing until your stomach hurts at the boys’ best attempts to hit the high notes. 

After dropping off Garth, Jeff, and Grant, you find yourself pulling into Eddie’s driveway.

“Well, I’ve got one last thing for you, birthday boy.”

Though already nearly nodding off, he gives you a lazy smile with raised brows. You get out of the van and hurry to the other side to keep Eddie from stumbling up the stairs to the trailer, hand keeping a tight hold on your plush waist. You bring him to lean against the kitchen counter before moving to the oven that hid the cake you’d made earlier while Eddie got ready for Hellfire.  You light the candles as quickly as you can before slowly turning to reveal it to him. His eyes widen, a one-sided smile on his lips as you bring the cake to rest on the counter in front of him, singing Happy Birthday. His eyes glance between the cake and you as you sing, warmth filling his gaze and his cheeks.

It takes him a few tries, but he blows out all the candles before he looks to you again.

“Happy birthday, Eddie” you give him a soft smile before he pulls you in for a tight hug. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. For everything” he mutters into your hair, arms wrapped tight around your waist. You expect it to be brief, but his hold doesn’t budge. 

“No need to thank me, Eds” 

He’s drunk, so you let him hold you longer without thinking much of it.

“I love you so much” he whispers, voice deep and sincere. The alcohol causes his body to sway side to side, his grip on you pulling your body with him.

His words shoot right through your heart, and you’re thankful for his hold on you, keeping your face out of view as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Not the way I love you.

You take a deep breath, settling your nerves and voice before you return his words.

“I love you too”

You let him hold you for a few seconds longer before it becomes too much to bear.

“Come on, have some of your cake” you pat his back, pulling his attention back to the cake sitting on the counter. His grip on you loosens as he turns back to it with a drunken smile.

You grab a knife, fork and a paper plate, cutting him a slice. He wastes no time digging in, leaving remnants of chocolate icing covering his lips.

“Mmm, you’re such a good baker” he groans, closing his eyes and reveling in the taste. Normally, you’d smile at the compliment, but you can’t bring yourself to as you watch him.

“Hey… you’re not gonna have some?” He asks when his eyes open and he comes back to his senses through the alcohol.

“No, trying to cut back on sweets. It’s your cake, anyway.” 

“Bulllllshiiit. You’re perfect the way you are” he insists, slurring his words with unchewed cake in his mouth. The counter he leans on being the only thing keeping him upright.

“Thanks, Eds… but really, I’m fine.” You give him a muted smile. It’s enough in his drunken state for him to shrug in response, quickly diving back in to finish the last few bites. 

“Alright, I think it’s time we get you to bed. Come on.”

He doesn’t argue with you, only wrapping his arm around your shoulder again as you lead him down the hallway to his bedroom.

You flick on his light as he stumbles in, fighting to pull off his vest and leather jacket. You begin to move to help get him into bed but he doesn’t stop there. Pulling his Hellfire shirt over his head and throwing it across the room carelessly. Revealing his bare chest, a tattoo you’ve never seen decorating his left pec.

When his hands fumble with his belt, you quickly look away, trying to distract yourself with the posters on his wall as you feel warmth creep up your chest and into your cheeks.

When you hear him groan and his feet shuffling against the carpet, you take a chance in looking back at him. With barely open eyelids and sporting only his blue checkered boxers, he falls onto his bed with a huff. You pull his covers over him, huffing a sigh as you look over his probably already sleeping figure.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

When you’re met with silence, you flick his lights off and spare one last glance at him before leaving and shutting his bedroom door behind you. 

You quickly cover his cake and grab your purse before making your way across the street to your trailer.

Heaviness hanging in your chest. It’s a far from unfamiliar sensation at this point. It’s the same heaviness that hasn’t left since the concert a week ago, now only intensified tonight with his drunken words and embrace.

Freshly changed into your pajamas, you spare a glance out your bedroom window to the trailer across the street. Only one thought lingering in your mind.

I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

[multific]

Snow Storm

König x Reader

He caught your eye on day one.

How could he not? The man was huge.

Being a new member of KorTac, but a very experienced soldier, you joined the team a couple of weeks after they formed.

It also didn't take long for these people to become like family to you. Every single one of them you were close to. And you loved to fight along with them. 

And now, you were on a mission with them.

You hated the cold. 

Well, that was a lie, you liked the cold, but you hated to be outside in the cold. 

But you had a mission to complete.

And you knew you cannot have the cold ruin this for you, you were on a roll, already saved the others three times. You needed to move.

Then everything went up in flames, chaos. 

You were separated from the others, only through the radio, you were able to tell them your position.

"In a fucked up very cold forest, surrounded by snow and ice, can't see a landmark."

"You must have ran into the woods, stay there, we will get you." said Aksel as they all headed your direction. 

Great.

Trying to hide in a white forest while wearing nothing but black... not ideal.  

"Cobra?" called a familiar voice and it wasn't even through the intercom. 

"König?" you soon saw him emerge from behind a tree.

And indeed it was him. You had no idea he was there with you.

"The others are coming our way, did you also get lost?" you asked as you walked over to him, snow crunching under your boots.

He wasn't lost, he followed you after the explosion. 

You didn't expect him to answer, but then you noticed something behind him in the tree line.

"Sir!" you yelled into your radio. 

"Yes, I see it, try and find shelter, that is a bad storm, we will---- tomorrow--- but----"

"Sir, the line is really bad. Once the storm is over we will find each other. König's with me."

"Stay---safe!"

The line said before it completely broke off.

"Did you see anything where we could take shelter?" you asked König before he nodded and turned around, he started to walk as you followed him.

A small wooden house.

"Great, because every horror movie said 'Go into the scare house in the woods.'" you signed and he slightly laughed.

But you didn't have a choice, the storm was coming, fast. You headed inside.

This place was long abandoned. That much was very clear. 

It was not only filthy but also run down. At least it had a stable roof and a fire place.

You smashed up a chair while König started the fire.

It was really really cold.

"Are you cold?" he asked and you nodded. 

"Are you not?" he shook his head, no. Of course a giant like him wasn't cold. He was probably a walking radiator!

Oh.

A walking... radiator.

He tilted his head as he looked at you.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You-You must be warm right? Like... you are so big, you must be a walking heater..."

"W-What are you suggesting?" 

"Cuddling, before I freeze my fingers off." you said it like it was the most natural thing. As if your insides didn't flip when you said that. You were embarrassed, but you were more afraid of the cold than a cringy moment.

At that time, maybe later you will regret this.

But he didn't say anything and you feared you went over the line. You didn't want to lose him, so you were ready to apologize when he nodded and opened his jacket, allowing you to get inside. 

You moved so fast, you nearly knocked him over.

He moved so you would be closer to the fire, hopefully getting the warmth you needed.

And as you settled by his side, you knew you were right.

He really was a heater. You moved just a tad bit closer to him when you felt him freeze, you knew about his anxiety, you knew how he was.

Suddenly, you moved back, pulling away from him, he was looking at you.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to make you this uncomfortable." 

As you sat down across from him, you saw him panic. He reached out for you, hands shaking.

"Bitte, komm zurück zu mir." (Please, come back to me.) You knew a little German, but you were no expert.

"Umm. It's okay, König, really, I will be fine. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared." his reply was fast. You were rather surprised he replied with such confidence. 

You looked at him, perhaps you offended him more by moving away than by even suggesting the idea.

Like a lost kitten, you slowly moved back into his open arms, his huge body once again surrounding you. His arms locked you in, as if he was scared you'd run away again if he let you. 

Buy you didn't.

His warmth took you in like a nice warm bath after a long day, and suddenly the old and cold house was not so bad.

You smiled as you started to slowly doze off.

"You are really warm, it's nice." you said before closing your eyes, head on his chest.

He must have thought you fell asleep because he started to run a finger down your face. It started from your brow, down your temple to your cheekbone. When he touched the top of your lip, you almost pulled away, but he spoke up.

"Ich Liebe Dich." he said, and it was your time to freeze. He didn't notice as he finger continued its path, but your mind was foggy.

Love?

Did he really just say that? Your German was limited yes, but you understood that one very well.

"Only say things like that if you mean them." you said as you opened your eyes. Your eyes lock with his, his filled with fear. "Did you mean it?" you asked as he tried to pull away, probably ready to run away from you but your grip on his shirt was strong. "Because I love you too. And I need to know if you mean it or not." his head whipped towards you, so fast in fact you worried he would give himself whiplash. 

"You do? You love me?" he asked, and you nodded, cupping his cheek along with the mask he always wore. 

And he nodded the slightest nod. He knew, in your line of work, relationships were hard. Impossible for some. And yet, here he was, wanting nothing but to be yours and for you to be his.

"Great, than as soon as we get out of this storm you can take me on a date." you said as you placed your head back on his chest, ready to finally sleep this time.

He was surprised at how easy-going you were. He confessed his feelings and you reciprocated them, he never expected for that to happen, but he was not about to complain.

As you finally fell asleep, as the storm outside still was at its peak, he couldn't sleep, all he could think about what he should plan for your date.

And as he was thinking, he pulled you even closer if that was possible.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @paola-carter​​ @stunkbiggu

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

[sunny-mercya]

No second chance

Bruce Wayne x Male Reader

Masterlist

Bruce and you had been together for 5 years and one day, without really telling you any reason or discussion it, he had broken off your relationship and two days later you had been thrown out, from a place you called home and being moved into a apartment.

At first you were confused, couldn't comprehend the situation at all. There hadn't been any signs before, that you both had begun to fall out love. Sure, occasional arguments and little bit of jealousy here and there but nothing too drastic to get it to this point.

Then the realisation had settled in, once you stood all alone in your new "home". You cried that night, ugly sobbing echoing through the rooms.

Now, three years later, the amount of time you had needed to tell yourself that it wasn't your fault, and Bruce had the audacity to ring your doorbell and asks if he could come inside.

Begrudgingly you let him in, the look he was giving you, so remorseful, had made you a tad bit curious. You lead him into the kitchen, asking if he wanted some tea or coffee and when Bruce mutely nodded, you prepared some tea just as silently as how brooding man, you once loved and perhaps still do, was.

Setting the streaming cups down and taking a seat yourself, you pondered if you wanted to ask or simply wait, till Bruce would say something on his own. You decided for the first.

«So, what brings you here Bruce? Do you need some advice from me of how to end another relationship?» you couldn't help it yourself to say this, to make such a jab, feelings you long had buried begun to resurface again.

Bruce flinched slightly at this, gripping the cup a bit too tightly and not daring to really look at you at all.

You narrowed your eyes a bit, brows furrowing. He looked different, more aged and roughed up. Those stubbles on his chin not really fitting him at all, giving a sense of low hygiene management. Eye bags and messy hair. Your once buff man, now thinner than you would liked it.

«The boys miss you [Nickname], I miss you.»

Bruce watched how your face scrunched up into confusion first and then into anger.

«You telling me after three fucking years, after you literally kicked me out of a place I called home, that you miss me? Sure thing, that's such bullshit I'm hearing here.»

«I had my reasons, I can't tell you them, but my love never had vanished–»

«Of course you had reasons! Keeping secrets again from me like before! Don't you like trust me in the slightest? A relationship is there to relay on one another!»

You swore, when Bruce is about to ask you to come back and to be forgiven, you will kick him out.

As if the boys had missed you. Another lie it was. If they had, they would have keep contract through the years, but there were none.

You sighed, had calmed down a bit. Not wanting to alarm your neighbours with your rising shouting and them calling the cops.

«Bruce, honestly, I'm not sure why you here at all. I moved on, I'm seeing someone and I'm happy again.«

Bruce knew asking for your forgiveness or a second chance, wouldn't be easy. He wanted to try at least, but hearing those news, that you were seeing someone else now, did leave a bitter taste inside of him.

«You should go Bruce.»

And Bruce did go as asked. Unspoken apologies on the tip of his tongue and no goodbyes being said. You had made it clear that it was over, completely. That you had moved on.

Bruce simply need to accept this.

[surshica]

Stay Home !

synopsis : yn was caught in the meteor incident instead of chishiya taking her to the boderlands when he was at work — a surpise visit.

genre : angst — fluff

A/N : my first one shot HAHA; this was kinda shit but yeah…ANWYAYS i trued i saw fruit basket tiktok and thought let’s make a one shot, and it’s kinda shit and rushed but 🧍‍♀️

— CHISHIYA x FEM!READER

inspo

‘and in my eyes, there is a tiny dancer watching over me.’

you could never sleep properly, there was an urge to leave this hell of a whole called the borderland. the mere thought of you on the verge of death didn’t startle you; the thought of chishiya leaving alone did. you made friends at the beach and very much foes. you enjoyed the company you had from kuina arisu and usagi. you were alone now. maybe it wasn’t a good idea to separate from the group.

running from the king of spade was though, you weren’t sure if you truly did want to risk your life to get into some car. you were more headstrong and empathetic yet stern at the beach. that made you let out a small chuckle. after playing many diamonds and heart games the itching burn made you want to leave more.

the black jacket you found comfort in had gotten dirty so you tossed it getting a new one, the skirt had been flowing in the winds slight breeze, your hair had been the least of your worries to keep maintained, messy yet you still felt beautiful. you were kicking the pebbles on the ground, a frown formed on your lips. chishiya was the only person you could think about there was nobody else, you knew your family were fine since they were out of japan but chishiya. every night you wished for you to get out of this place faster.

the sun beaming down made you hiss slightly, a sting coming from your swollen slept deprived eyes. covering the sun with your arm. you squinted your eyes to see arisu and what looked like niragi. a frown formed on your lips quickly yet quietly walking your way to arisu. “what’s happening?!” you yelled at arisu, he simply pointed to the gun next to you. nodding you grabbed it waiting for the right time to shoot niragi.

the burning hatred you had for this man was unreal. all the things he did to women was disgusting, he was the biggest reason you want to kill someone. niragi’s laugh boomed loudly in the area, a scowl escaped arisu’s mouth as you just inhaled sharply being aware of your surroundings.

you tried shooting when he was laughing but you were a tad bit too far to the right, your face twitched in annoyance. “seriously?! is that the best you can do? that’s so disappointing and..” “sad.” the pause in the sentence gave you time to calm yourself. “come on!” “shoot me!” “or are you too much is pussys to do that?” niragi licked the metal part of his gun like it’s his. arisu was very much shaking, you shot arisu a look that told him to calm down or we can die here.

“arisu im going to need you to pull yourself together or this can be the end of us!” you whispered yelled, arisu looked at you his uneasy breath was obvious; he was redeeming himself though. the air was filled became thicker and musty, niragi’s laugh was very much vibrating the air as he carelessly shot the cars. you rolled your eyes, he was seriously getting on your nerves and you just wanted to kill him.

the sound of feet walking alerted you, losing up the gun you put your hand on the trigger, pointing to the direction. you were about to shoot until you noticed the short brown hair, “usagi?” your question sounded more like a statement. arisu turned his head to happy to see usagi.

he wanted to drop everything to go to her but he knew he couldn’t, “what’s going on here?” usagi questioned looking at you arisu and niragi with guns point at eachother. “well isnt this interesting” niragi let out a wicked smile shooting two bullets towards usagi.

“USAGI WATCH OUT” arisu screamed towards her, the girl couldn’t move fast enough; her leg was injured. a gulp was viable and the sign of anguish watched over her. “fuck it.” you snarled under your breath running over to usagi stepping in front if her. a bullet above your chest and the other one in your stomach, arisu took the chance to shoot niragi in the stomach before running over to you.

the fall to the ground was rough but you couldn’t subside it from the pain of being shot. usagi’s face grew worry on it as she held your head in her hands. tears brimmed her face, “why would you do that..” hee eyes examined your body, you had a fox like grin on your face. “something told me i should” your breathing stopped slightly before you exhaled deeply, “plus i wouldn’t want the lovers to be separated~” you couldn’t help but crack a joke at the moment.

usagi slapped you lightly on the shoulder, you looked over to arisu, “i don’t know how critical these are..” you paused giving him a smile, “but please different the queen of hearts for me.” arisu nodded before resting your head on a jacket he found in the ground; grabbing usagi as they headed to different the queen.

you can feel more and more blood come out, some worry washed over you letting out a small laugh, the laugh turned into small crys. tears formed your eyes as the pain worsened, hands were shaken but you couldn’t help but laugh. as night approached your eyes grew slightly heavy. you didn’t know if it was because you were tired or because you were losing too much blood.

your bangs stuck onto your forehead as the sweat mixed with the cold air, breeze washed over. you looked up to the sky to see fireworks. a smile washed over your face, you can finally go home, you can see your chishiya. tears fell down your cheek; you did it. “niragi if you are sadly still alive,” yn grew a grin as tears rolled down her cheeks, “i hope you go to hell.” she closed her eyes as the darkness consumed her.

ılıl﹔ ◌ 𓂂 ˳⁺ 🦢 ꯭ ⊹ ⋆ ࣪

chishiya had clocked in for work grabbing himself a coffee, a black coffee. he didn’t mind it but it was definitely not his favorite. he only drank it to keep himself awake, the bitterness washed over his tongue making his face scrunch in disgust.

finishing the small cup he tossed it out heading over to his next patient, he had plans with you today, they were going to go on a picnic together but chishiya got busy per usual resulting in you just going to the cafe.

chishiya sped through patients hoping it could make time go faster but it just didn’t. he headed back to the hospitals cafe to get another coffee, he felt tired. as he grabbed his new cup of coffee he looked towards the now loud commotion  building; walking over to one of the nurses who had been watching in distress. “what happened?” his rasp liked voice had made the nurse jump in surpise before looking back at him.

“oh they’re the poor unlucky souls that got hit with the meteor.” her frown was evident, sadness in her eyes. “when was this?” his eyebrows furrowed as he scratched his head, “it happened around 5 minutes ago..” her lips agaped before closing it and shaking her head looking down at her phone.

he took his phone out his pocket to see if you had texted him back but you never did, a displeased look washed over him. you were never one to leave him on delivered for more than five minutes heck even ten, but almost twenty? he figured something was up. as he looked up he noticed a figure that looked oddly fimilar to him, as he looked closely the person had the same matching necklace as chishiya.

his breathing bitches, the lifeless body laying on the stretcher. the medics hurrying the bloody bruised girl to a room to hook her up. chishiya felt his feet start walking towards the girl. the walking went to a sprint, the sprint went to a full on jog. his hands weren’t even in his pocket. his phone was clutched in his hand with a picture of both of them on his lockscreen.

looking from the outside chishiya could see a boy’s lifeless body and yours. his eyes rested on the heart monitor that stopped beeping and went cold for a minute; his eyes winded slightly. breathed hitched. his lips turned into a downward frown. he didn’t want to believe what he saw, he wanted to think it was fake. he didn’t want to believe you were gone from him.

he was intently watching from the windows, he ignored even the slightest hi’s and hellos, his eyes were fixated on you. after countless defibrillator attempts they were finally able to get your heart back on track. they hooked you up quickly before exiting to other patients rooms. as the doctors and nurses left he slipped his way into the room closing it on his way in.

the curtain for the other patient was closed so it didn’t matter to him, he didn’t care for them he cared for you. he looked at the monitor before looking back at you. his hand brushed the messy strands off your face, his hand intertwined with yours. he placed small kisses all over it.

he was mumbling sweet nothings to your sleep body, this was way of hoping you would wake up soon. he had closed his eyes calming himself. he didn’t like stress, he felt your hand slightly twitch making his eyes flare right open.

ılıl﹔ ◌ 𓂂 ˳⁺ 🦢 ꯭ ⊹ ⋆ ࣪

your eyes opened slowly as a bright light beamed through the windows and the ceiling, hissing at it you quickly close your eyes. opening them back slowly you felt someone’s hand holding onto your, looking to the right you can see him and in his glory.

a small smile formed on your face as you put your other hand on his cheek, “chishiya..” a roughed voice escaped your lips, you didn’t know if this was real or if this was still the borderlands. you quickly look down to see your bandaged wounds; your head slowly looked back up at the happy chishiya.

“i was wondering why you didn’t text me back” he smiled moving your palm to his lips placing a soft kiss. “well i didn’t expect me to die yet” you countered back. chishiya let out a soft short laugh. you were still debating if this was truly real or just a dream. a single tear rolled down your cheek as you felt chishiya’s loving kisses warm your hand.

“how long was i out?” you questioned, you spent basically 4 months in the boderlands so she’d like the time here as well. “your heart stopped for a minute..” your eyes has widened slightly as the words, lips agaped. closing your eyes you let in another small breathe before looking at chishiya.

“i have so much to tell you chishi..” you moved your hand around his neck pulling him closer, nose touching eachother, your smile was brighter than he could ever remember.

“i’m sure you do..” his cat like grin formed onto his face—leaning closer he kissed you ever so slowly. a gentle slow kiss that had so much passion in it. you smiled into the kiss, oh how much you missed his touch. you pulled him closer to you lightly to deepen the kiss.

the kiss was short yet sweet, his hand still connected to yours. he licked his lips as his eyes stared into your tired ones, “next time stay home” a small like smile formed on his lips. “alright doctor~”

tags !!

@nanamora @saiewithakatana @chiishiiya @bowscale @theinfaethablefig @luv4kuina @eissaaaa @fiona782 @eshtravagent

[lvlyynim]

bestfriend!mark who’d remember your usual drink and pastry order so he’d have an excuse to crash your study session in the library.

bestfriend!mark who always has a spare charger in his bag whenever your phone is running low.

bestfriend!mark who would lull you to sleep with a few plucks from his guitar and soft singing.

bestfriend!mark who keeps small gifts you gave him and stores them in a cupboard box, calling it his memories box. (from the first movie ticket you two went together to the polariods of you and him)

bestfriend!mark who has a crush on you ever since 9th grade, you skipped school to take care of him when he was sick.

“don’t you have that very important history test? the one you spent weeks studying for”

“oh shush, you’re more important than that stupid test. now shut it and drink this”

bestfriend!mark who has a drawer full of his shit in your closet cause he’s constantly over at your place.

bestfriend!mark who would stay up all night stargazing with you from the small balcony.

bestfriend!mark who nearly burned down your kitchen, trying to make a sunny side up.

“you are never ever entering my kitchen again. at this point mark, you’re setting yourself up everytime you grab a pan”

“at least this one is better than the rest-”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT”

bestfriend!mark who always know when something is wrong and shows up with your favourite snacks and his hoodie.

bestfriend!mark who sents you sunset pics daily saying it reminds him of you. he’s also your personal weather forecaster.

bestfriend!mark who orders fast food and eats them with you in his car, in an empty parking lot.

bestfriend!mark who holds your hand in crowded places out of fear of losing you in a sea of people. (also your hands will stay interlocked for the whole day)

bestfriend!mark who’s your biggest supporter and constantly encourages to face your fears, reminding it’ll always work out in the end.

bestfriend!mark who dyed his hair blue after losing his bet with haechan (and it was probably the best thing to happen cause it suits him, to the point where you can’t stop staring at him)

“you look great with blue hair”

“hm? dang really?”

“mhm probably my favourite colour out of the all other ones”

“damn you liked it that much huh? is that why you keep staring at me?”

“shut up and finish your food”

bestfriend!mark who rubs his hand up and down your back whenever you two hug.

bestfriend!mark who stays sober if you two go out for drinks or during parties so he could take care of you in case you do too many shots.

bonus nsfw cuts

bestfriend!mark who jerks off to a photo of you almost every night before being consumed by guilt and shame. (and does it again the next night)

bestfriend!mark who shamelessly checks out anytime you wear something a tad bit revealing. (his favourite : you in skirts)

bestfriend!mark who finally had the chance to pour his feelings out to you and fuck you senseless afterwards.

“you have no fucking clue how long i’ve wanted this” you let a broken sob, feeling as if his cock is gonna split you in half with how deep he is. how big he is.

mark just chuckled at your disheveled state, legs pinned to your body, eyes rolled back in euphoria, body littered with his mouthwork.

“taking me so good baby, so fucking good” he’s losing it by the second. with how you’re clenching around him, he’s not gonna last long. your high pitched moans is a telltale sign you’re in the same boat as well.

mark was a gone man when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed him deeper into your dripping cunt. leaning a whine of your name, he came hard. you took advantage and pushed him onto his back, straddling him.

wind knocked out of mark’s lungs seeing you bouncing on his cock, desperate for your own release. mark was choking on his sobs, his cock overstimulated to the point where he could cry any moment now.

“ba-baby please ngh please come please”

“fuck mark, i-i’m cumming”

it didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to snap, orgasm washing over your body with a long whine of mark’s name.