#Emma's is something that sounds really nice

[lost-in-fandoms]

number 59, lying curse/forced to lie about something for max and daniel 👀🫶🏼

From here. Hi emma <3 creative juices are more like a very dense slush, so this is a bit clunky.

"You should go."

Daniel blinks, staring at Max. His face is doing something weird, a mix of a confused and angry frown, eyes big and panicked.

"What?"

Daniel was sure the afternoon had been fine. They had played padel together, something nice to break the ice after months of not seeing each other, just to discover there was never ice to break. Max had invited him back to share some take-out, put on a movie.

And then he had gone downstairs, to get a package from the concierge, and had come back up looking weird, and now...

"I said, I want you to go," Max repeats, shaking his head afterwards, as if trying to get the words off himself.

Daniel is so fucking confused he almost forgets to feel hurt for a moment. Almost.

"Max, what the fuck? Did I like, kick a cat or something?"

He can't have, the cats have been hiding for the whole time Daniel has been here, which he had tried really hard not to be offended about, especially when Max had off-handedly mentioned fucking Charles had been able to pet them.

Max is still shaking his head as he reaches out to grab his hoodie, as if trying to keep Daniel where he is. But then he opens his mouth and...

"I don't want you here, I want you the fuck out!"

This is fucking weird, and hurtful, and Daniel doesn't even care if Max's eyes look suspiciously shiny, because he's not here to feel like fucking unwanted or something.

"You invited me here, asshole," he bitterly points out. "Sort your shit out, man, and then call me. If you even want to."

He has to pry Max's fingers off his hoodie to turn around, has to ignore the pained sound he makes, scrambling behind him, repeating just go! as if Daniel wasn't leaving already.

"Yeah, I get it, I get it. Fucking hell, Max, glad to know you're still a bitch when you want to be."

He doesn't turn around to say goodbye, but takes the satisfaction of cutting off Max's words by slamming the door behind himself.

[piraterefrigerator]

It's all fun and games until they teach Killian to set up contact ringtones

[emmaspolaroid]

too much to liiiive too much to die forrrr

[xoxochb]

— about anything ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

★ - “wanna listen to the sound of you blinking wanna listen to your hands soothe listen to your heart beating listen to the way you move”

warnings: this is really short pairing: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite a/n: this is entirely random but I wanted to write something simple today :)

for once, the hermes cabin was utterly silent. you had left your cabin early this morning because you’re siblings believed it was acceptable to spray loads of perfume at ten in the morning while you still slept. so, you had taken it upon yourself to leave cabin ten and spend the day in your boyfriends cabin. however, he was absent, you assume because he had counselor duties to attend to this morning unfortunately. so you waited. with your cup of coffee and your jane austen novel, you cozy yourself atop his bed, wrapping the blankets around your frame to shield your skin from the cold air-conditioning of the cabin. for two hours you had waited in silence, all the other hermes children had left for reasons you would guess were their own duties to attend to, so the cabin had been left to just you

bored, you close your book and let your head fall onto the pillow, and as you were ready to fall into slumber you hear the cabin door open. you allow your eyes to flutter open to see who had entered, and lucky you, your eye catches your favorite mop of dark curls progressively getting closer. you smile widely and sit up as luke takes a seat beside you on his bed

“hey. did I wake you?” he asks silently to preserve the quiet tone of the moment

you shake your head slowly, letting yourself fall back into the bed. “no, I just laid down”

luke murmurs a gentle ‘oh’ before laying down alongside you underneath the blankets. both, similarly, you wrap your arms around each other finding instant solace in the serene situation. you pull his head to your chest, his ear right over your beating heart

“what were you up to today?” you whisper. before responding, luke snakes a hand under your shirt, rubbing up and down your skin

“training… more training…”

you nod understandingly and stop yourself from continuing the conversation. you knew that his training was draining and had made the consecutive decision to let him rest. but— he whispers a silent plead for you to speak about your day until his eyes close shut

“I didn’t do much, I just kind of… read a lot. when I left my cabin this morning it smelt like perfume, I got a migraine so I came here hoping you hadn’t left but you were gone so… I took a small nap and I woke up feeling fine then I read emma for a bit and I had my coffee because you know me and my coffee addiction. then I was going to take a second nap while I waited for you but then you came in— so that was really my whole day”

luke hums in response, presumably on the verge of falling asleep from your honey-sweet voice

“that sounds nice. besides the migraine”

“definitely,” yoy laugh lightly, twirling your fingers through his hair to lull him to sleep at last “now rest. I’ll be here when you wake up”

you feel him smile upon your skin. “I won’t fight with you on that”

and he surely did not, moments later obeying your instructions

[st4rtar0t]

Describing your love trope with your future spouse as a writer

Pick a picture

MASTERLIST ☆ PAID SERVICES

LONG POST AHEAD!

Pictures belong to their rightful owners, I only own the content of this post.

Picture 1

Arranged blind date

I stared at my reflection, the dress clinging to my frame in a way that was both flattering and unfamiliar. It had been months since I’d worn anything other than sweatpants and old t-shirts. My heart pounded as I thought about the evening ahead. What had I let Emma talk me into?

“Trust me, y/n,” she had said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You deserve someone who treats you right. This guy is perfect for you.”

I wanted to believe her. After all, Emma knew me better than anyone. She had seen me through the worst of my relationship with Adam, watched as I shrank into myself, convinced I was unworthy of love and respect. She had been my rock when I finally walked away.

Now, she was determined to help me move on, even if it meant dragging me into the world of blind dates.

“You look stunning,” Emma said, stepping into my bedroom. Her smile was warm and reassuring. “And you’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”

I nodded, trying to steady my breathing. “What if he’s... I don’t know, another Adam?”

Emma shook her head firmly. “He’s not. Trust me. I’ve known him for years. He’s kind, funny, and he’s been through his own share of heartbreak. You two will understand each other.”

Taking a deep breath, I followed Emma out the door and into her car. As she drove, I gazed out the window, my mind a swirl of anxiety and hope. The city lights blurred past, a cacophony of life that felt distant and unreal.

We arrived at the restaurant, a cozy little place with warm lighting and the comforting aroma of home-cooked meals. Emma squeezed my hand. “He’s waiting at table five. Go on, I’ll be right here if you need me.”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Here goes nothing.”

As I approached table five, I saw him. He was looking down at his menu, but there was something about him that immediately put me at ease. He had an air of quiet confidence, and when he looked up and our eyes met, he smiled. It was a smile that reached his eyes, genuine and warm.

“y/n?” he asked, standing up and offering his hand.

I took it, surprised by how natural it felt. “Yes. And you must be Michael.”

He nodded, his grip gentle yet reassuring. “It’s really nice to meet you. Emma’s told me a lot about you.”

I laughed nervously, taking my seat. “All good things, I hope.”

“Only the best,” he said, his eyes twinkling with kindness. “She’s very fond of you.”

As we started talking, I found myself relaxing. Michael was easy to talk to, his sense of humor lightening the mood. He shared stories about his work as a graphic designer, his passion for painting, and his dog, Max, who sounded like a real character.

“So, Emma tells me you’re quite the photographer,” he said, his tone genuinely interested.

I blushed slightly. “I dabble. It’s just a hobby, really.”

“From what I hear, you’re pretty talented,” he replied. “Maybe you could show me some of your work sometime?”

I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’d like that.”

The evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was enjoying myself. Michael was attentive, respectful, and genuinely interested in what I had to say. It was a stark contrast to the indifference and criticism I had grown accustomed to with Adam.

As we said our goodbyes, Michael looked at me with a hopeful expression. “I had a great time tonight, y/n. Can we do this again sometime?”

I smiled, feeling a lightness in my heart. “I’d like that very much, Michael.”

As I walked back to Emma, who was waiting with a knowing smile, I realized something. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to open my heart again. And maybe this time, I’d find the love and respect I truly deserved.

⁠—⁠☆

Emma hugged me as soon as I reached her. “See? Told you it would be fine.”

I hugged her back, gratitude welling up in my chest. “Thank you, Emma. For everything.”

She grinned. “That’s what friends are for.”

And for the first time in a long while, I felt hopeful about the future.

Picture 2

Friends to lovers

I stood outside y/n’s apartment, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. The city was quiet tonight, the streetlights casting a warm glow on the sidewalk. I had been here countless times, but tonight felt different. Tonight, everything was about to change.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door. Almost immediately, I heard her footsteps approaching. The door swung open, and there she was, her smile lighting up the entire hallway.

“Hey! Come on in,” she said, stepping aside to let me pass.

I walked in, my heart pounding in my chest. “Hey, y/n. Thanks for having me over.”

We settled on her couch, the same spot where we’d shared countless conversations, laughter, and even tears over the years. She handed me a cup of tea, her eyes sparkling with the warmth I had come to cherish.

“So, what’s up?” she asked, taking a sip of her own tea. “You sounded a bit urgent on the phone.”

I looked at her, really looked at her, and realized just how much she meant to me. Her kindness, her strength, her infectious laugh—all the little things that made her who she was. It hit me like a tidal wave. I was in love with her. I always have been.

“y/n, there’s something I need to tell you,” I began, my voice trembling slightly.

She set her cup down, her expression turning serious. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. “y/n, you’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember. You’ve been there for me through everything, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “I am your best friend. I will always be there for you no matter what happens. Now tell me, what is bothering you?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment. “But that’s the thing. I don’t just see you as my best friend anymore. Somewhere along the way, my feelings changed. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, there was a silence that felt like an eternity. My heart was in my throat, fear and hope battling within me.

“oh…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I pressed on, needing her to understand. “I know this might come as a shock, and I don’t want to ruin what we have. But I had to tell you. I can’t keep pretending that what I feel for you is just friendship.”

Her eyes searched mine, and I saw tears forming. Panic surged through me. Had I made a terrible mistake?

But then she smiled, a radiant, beautiful smile that took my breath away. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that for so long.”

Relief washed over me like a flood. “You... you have?”

She nodded, tears spilling over her cheeks. “I’ve loved you for years. I was just too scared to tell you. I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

I reached out, brushing a tear from her cheek. “You’ll never lose me, y/n. You’re everything to me.”

She leaned into my touch, her eyes filled with love and vulnerability. “I love you.”

The words were like music to my ears. I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly. “I love you too, y/n. More than you’ll ever know.”

We sat there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the world outside fading away. All that mattered was this moment, the love we had finally confessed, and the promise of a future together.

As I held her, I realized something. Love had been right in front of me all along, in the form of my best friend. And now that I had found it, I was never letting go.

Picture 3

Opposites attract

I watched him from across the room, the way he moved with such effortless grace and confidence. The party was in full swing, laughter and chatter filling the air, but all I could focus on was Ethan. He was the epitome of extroversion, charming everyone around him with his easy smile and quick wit.

I, on the other hand, was more comfortable in the shadows, observing rather than participating. I preferred a good book to a loud party, a quiet evening at home to a night out on the town. Yet, here I was, drawn to someone who was my complete opposite in every way.

Ethan caught my eye and waved, making his way over to me. My heart skipped a beat, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling inside me.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. “Why are you hiding over here all alone?”

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just taking a break from all the excitement.”

He laughed, a rich, contagious sound. “You know, you’re the only person I know who comes to a party to take a break from it.”

I smiled, feeling a little more at ease. “Well, someone has to keep an eye on things from the sidelines.”

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with that mischievous spark I was starting to adore.

“Sure,” I said, surprised by how much I wanted him to stay.

We sat down on the edge of the patio, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the crowded house. For a moment, we just sat in comfortable silence, the sounds of the party fading into the background.

“You know, Y/N,” Ethan said, breaking the silence. “I’ve always admired how you can just... be. You don’t need all this noise and attention to feel happy.”

I looked at him, surprised by his honesty. “And I’ve always admired how you can light up a room just by walking into it. You make everything look so easy.”

He smiled, a softer, more genuine smile than I’d seen before. “It’s not always as easy as it looks. Sometimes, it feels like I’m just playing a role. But with you... I feel like I can be myself.”

My heart swelled at his words. “I feel the same way, Ethan. With you, I don’t feel like I have to hide.”

We continued talking, sharing pieces of ourselves we hadn’t revealed to anyone else. I told him about my love for painting, how it was my way of expressing emotions I couldn’t put into words. He opened up about his fear of being alone, how he surrounded himself with people to avoid facing his own insecurities.

As the night wore on, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t expected. Despite our differences, or maybe because of them, we fit together in a way that felt right. His outgoing nature balanced my introversion, his confidence bolstered my shyness, and his warmth melted my reservations.

Ethan reached out, taking my hand in his. His touch was gentle, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through me. “Y/N, I know we’re different, but I can’t help how I feel. Being with you makes me want to be better, to be more.”

I looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and sincerity there. “I feel the same way, Ethan. You make me feel... alive, like anything is possible.”

He leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “So, what do you say we give this a try? Us, I mean. I know it won’t always be easy, but I think it could be something amazing.”

I smiled, my heart full of hope and excitement. “I’d like that, Ethan. I’d like that a lot.”

As he pulled me into a gentle embrace, I realized that sometimes, the most unexpected connections can be the most beautiful. Despite our differences, or maybe because of them, we were falling for each other, and I couldn’t wait to see where this journey would take us.

[the-thing-withfeathers]

let me do this (w.a)

a/n: short little wednesday drabble that i quickly wrote on my flight back. this one’s for emma cause she asked nicely.

pairing: wednesday addams x female reader

—

you knew she was busy with the investigation, and you were fine with it.

it was definitely hard though. you weren’t safe from her suspect list, but despite her brutal interrogation tactics, you stayed.

you had no intention of wanting to end the relationship, you knew she was just trying to be cautious. you couldn’t blame her for that.

some days hurt more than others, when she was particularly suspicious of you. you were just as much of an outcast as everyone else. sometimes your name would come up with leads and when she knocked at your door, you expected affectionate company rather than her prying questions.

but then again, you loved her. and you stayed.

you were curled up in her bed, she had gone out to follow a lead. but you wanted pieces of her, you wanted to feel her presence.

you stirred at the sound of the door opening, her boots lightly thumping against the ground.

“wednesday?” you muttered as you pushed yourself up, trying to get a glimpse of her. you managed to sit yourself up at the edge of the bed, the light from the hallway grazing your skin.

she dropped her bag on the ground and beelined for the bed like a zombie that has recently sound her footing.

your gaze softened, she looked exhausted. it must have been a bad turnout, you could see the energy leaving her body.

“mm…” she grumbled, plopping down on the bed. you watched her as she just sat there, there was nothing behind her eyes except tiredness.

you had to do something.

you stood up from the bed and got on your knees in front of her, your fingers undoing the laces of her shoes.

“you don’t have to…” she forced out, her voice hoarse.

“zip it.” you commanded. you knew she would be against this. wednesday hated being the one taken cared of. she hated how vulnerable she must look in front of you. but you didn’t care, she needed this. so you cut off any chance she had to protest.

she remained silent.

she knew that once you put your mind to something, there was no going back. you two were alike in that way, except you led with your heart more than she did. she admired you for it even if she never says it.

you tugged her boots off her feet. first the left foot, then the right. she sighed in relief as her feet were freed from the constraints of her shoes. you saw her stretch her legs slightly as you put her shoes by her closet.

while you were there, you pulled the doors to the closet open. you carefully selected her sleeping clothes, you knew she liked specific ones the most. you walked back over to her, setting them down on the bed.

she reached over to them but you inched them away.

“wednesday. please, just let me.” you said, firmly but pleading with her. she retracted her hand.

your fingers gripped the hem of her shirt, lifting it above her head. you paused before undoing her bra, making eye contact with her. she nodded and gave you permission. you unclasped her bra and let it fall onto the floor. you slipped the pajama shirt over her head, watching it fall over her body.

you repeated the process with her pants, leaving a soft kiss on her stomach as you raised her sleeping shorts. that sent goosebumps up her neck. she didn’t expect it but she wasn’t disappointed. in fact, she found herself wanting more.

you sat her back down on the bed, walking to her dresser and grabbing her black brush. you hesitated at first, she had stopped you twice now, but you had to try. your fingers held onto her braids, carefully undoing the bands that held them together. you untangled them gently. her soft, sily hair threading through your fingers with ease. you knew she maintained her hair well, but feeling it— really feeling it, it felt angelic.

you turned her to her side and sat behind her. pulling her let-down hair towards yourself, letting the strands rest on her back. you held her brush and combed it through her raven locks. she ‘mm’ed in approval, her eyes fluttering shut at the wave of relaxation she felt.

“feels good.” she said, almost a whisper.

“i’m glad.” you responded in the same tone of voice, parting her hair into sections that you could brush through. the initially separation partitions started to come together. you brushed her hair away from her neck, leaning in and planting a soft kiss there. you ditched the brush and snaked your hands around her waist, continuing your soft kisses.

god, she looked beautiful like this. her hair down, her face bare, and her body covered in soft cotton. you wanted to savour this moment for as long as she would let you.

“better?”

“much.”

“lay on your stomach.” you told her, she followed your request and situated herself on the mattress. her eyes were closing, her body ready to drift off to slumber. she released a soft moan at the feeling of her pillow. you straddled her back, one knee on each of her sides. you planted your palms against her back, applying pressure. she groaned as a response, this felt way too good.

you pushed your thumbs against her shoulder blades, watching as the tension in her shoulder started to fizzle. soft hums escaped her lips as you pushed against her muscles, unraveling the knots that had formed under her skin.

“where’d you learn this?” she asked, wanting to converse with you a bit more. she knew she had been neglecting you recently, her mind failing to stop running with thoughts of her investigation.

“uh…” you paused for a second, pressing down on the small of her back. “youtube.” you chuckled softly.

“oh, this must’ve been a really good video then.” she stretched slightly as you dismounted her back.

“it was! i don’t actually remember how i stumbled upon it though.” you plopped yourself down on the opposite side of the bed, keeping a reasonable distance. “it was one of those videos that randomly pop up out of nowhere!”

wednesday had never been the cuddling type. she often slept with her hands crossed her chest like a corpse inside a sarcophagus.

but tonight— tonight was different.

she couldn’t get enough of you, and the guilt was eating away at her. she missed you. she couldn’t say it outloud but she missed you terribly.

how could you sit through all this neglect and still be so good to her?

your head was turned away, your arm resting under it. your other arm was draped across your stomach. her tired eyes eyed your chest.

she shifted towards you and slowly planted her head on your chest. you looked like you could have gotten whiplash with how fast you turned to look at her.

“sorry.” she mumbled, “didn’t mean to startle you.” she said through a yawn. you shook your head.

“you didn’t startle me.” you said. “we just… we never… we don’t…”

“i know. and i’m sorry about that too.” her hand wrapped around yours, followed by a soft kiss pressed to your knuckles.

she was sorry? for not cuddling with you?

“you don’t have to be sorry. i know you’re not into this.”

“i want to be… i mean… with you. i’d like to be like this with you.” her eyelids were starting to close again but she wasn’t done yet.

“i’d like that.” you nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

but that just wasn’t enough.

with her last remaining strength, she hoisted herself up a bit more and captured your lips in a passionate kiss. there was some form of fire behind that lip-lock, restarting the oxygen-choked flame that your relationship had suffered over the past few days.

you needed her. but you tried to pull away, concerned at her tired state.

“no…” she pulled you closer again. she kissed you again and again and again until her body gave out. and yet, she craved more.

“wednesday.” you uttered. she tutted her lips at you.

“let me do this.”

[stardustsymphony]

the letter || theodore nott

part one. part two.

summary: in third year, you and your family moved to america because of your mother's transfer, after her death, you and your father came back for you to complete your studies at hogwarts three years later. like a lot of girls in your year, you had been crushing over theodore nott since first year. but he had never reciprocated those feelings for you, hell, he's not even fully aware you have those. but that was okay, you were fine by just admiring him from a distance— until you couldn't.

◦ ✿ ◦∘ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ∘◦

The King's Cross station was just as you remember; bustling with chatter, alive and full of joy and tearful goodbyes. You drummed your fingers on the handle of your trolley, the rings on your fingers making a soft, almost inaudible clink, clink against the metal. 

Your dad turned to look at you, bidding goodbye and a promise to meet soon to an old friend. "You ready, bug?" 

Bug.

That's what he and your mom used to call you, though he hardly uses it now. It was because you were the youngest in the family. 

"Yeah," you said, a swarm of butterflies in your stomach saying otherwise. "Just excited." A half truth. You were excited and nervous. 

He patted you on the shoulder and you looked at him. Though he had become a father at a young age, in his early twenties, as you looked at him, it suddenly hit you how old he looked. 

The wrinkles in the corner of his eyes, the eyes that would never crinkle laughing at something silly his wife told him. The smile lines on his face, that would forever serve as a reminder as to what he had lost. The lips that were moving, talking to her, telling her something, the lips that would never kiss his love again. 

This is the face of a man who had lost the love of his life, you told yourself, feeling a wave of a very strange yet familiar emotion wash over you as you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest much like how you used to do when you were young. 

Your father stopped mid sentence, his mouth hanging open as you suddenly crashed into his chest. Gently, he wrapped his arms around you, cupping the back of your head with one hand. 

As the Hogwarts' Express whistled, he pulled back and you noticed his ocean blue eyes were glistening. He blinked and gave you a smile, patting your cheek. "Go now, you'll miss the train." 

"I'll miss you." you said, stepping away from him and you couldn't care about how much you sounded like a child at that moment. 

"I'll miss you too," your father said, dabbing the corner of his eye with his sleeve, sniffing slightly. "But I'll see you at Christmas, yeah?" 

"Definitely." 

◦ ✿ ◦∘ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ∘◦

Your nervousness eased slightly when you found an empty compartment with your old friends, catching up on all the missed years. The friends you made in America were nice, but they hadn't seen you when you got your first pimple, or when you went through the braces phase. Or seen you obsess like crazy over one specific boy in your year, Theodore Nott. 

“He's got, like six new girlfriends in the past three years,” your best friend, Emma, was saying. “Can you believe that?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Six?” you asked, a very familiar heat coming up your cheeks that only happened whenever you talked about him. 

“Ridiculous, right?” 

Yes, it was a bit ridiculous, but you really couldn't blame him. He was pretty and handsome and rich and he was using it to his advantage, if you were in his place, you would have done the same. 

Though you told yourself multiple times that you were over him, somewhere deep down you couldn't help but wish that his next girlfriend would be you. 

Hours later, you didn't realise how much time had passed until the train came to a stop, pulling you and Emma out of the conversation you were having. 

You both jumped out of the train, already changed into your robes and your hands linked together as you made your way towards the carriages. You pat your pocket, an anxious habit now, to check you have all your things, when you realise you can't feel your wand. Confused, you patted your other pocket and the slight crunch of the empty candy wrappers was felt. 

“What happened?” Emma asked. You both had stopped now, as you continued patting down your robes, looking around your feet for your wand. 

“My wand,” you said. “I think I left it on the train.” You nodded towards the carriages. “You go, I'll be right back.” Before Emma could say anything, you were jogging back, getting strange looks from the other students. 

You entered the train, dodging and slipping through the crowd as you searched for your compartment. Once you found it, you slid open the door –only to come face to face with none other than Theodore Nott staring down at you. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as his eyes –warm, pretty brown eyes, –met yours. You were glad your hair was covering your ears, because they sure as hell were turning red. 

Your heart raced as if it was in a marathon, and your mouth had suddenly snapped shut. 

It was a known fact that he was the few of the tallest boys in your year, according to what Emma told you, but damn, he looked much taller in person. 

“Is this your wand?” he asked, holding up your wand. 

Hearing his voice, after this many years, and hearing him speaking to you, specifically, for the first time, made your stomach flip. 

Your eyes flickered from his face to your wand. “Yeah,” you said, your voice cracking a bit. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, it's mine.” 

He nodded, not breaking eye contact at all, and handed it to you. His fingers lightly brushed against your hand, his touch as soft as a whisper, and your whole body tingled. 

“Thanks.” 

“Hmm.” 

◦ ✿ ◦∘ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ∘◦

It's been a few months since the term started, and you were happy to say you were settling in your new and familiar surroundings quite well.

The age-old interaction with Theodore was still burned into your brain, the soft brown of his eyes flashing in your mind whenever you closed yours. The whisper of his touch burns your whole body whenever you think about it at night. His voice ringing in your ears in the silence of the night, and in the chaos of the classes.

You had told yourself multiple times that you were over him, but you were running out of excuses as to why your eyes kept drifting towards him whenever he entered the classroom, or answered a question, or literally even breathed. 

You had seen him talking to millions of people, it seemed like he knew everyone at school –everyone except you. 

You were not the type of person who'd get jealous of anyone, least of all a stranger. But it was hard to ignore the clenching of your jaw, the burning in your chest whenever you saw a girl talking to him. They made it look so easy, when in reality it was anything but. 

A pair of fingers snapped in front of your face and you jumped out of your thoughts. You faced Emma –the owner of the said fingers –and raised an eyebrow at her,

“What?” 

She gave you a look and held up three envelopes, and waved them under your nose. “You've got mail!” She said excitedly.

You snatched the bunch out of her hand, the first one being from your dad. “You get mail everyday.” You pointed out. “Nothing exciting about it. They're all probably from dad.”

They all were, in fact, not from him. 

One of them was from him, as he had taken it to heart when he had said he'd write to you every single week. 

The second one, surprisingly, was from a girl from your year who was a Ravenclaw. You both weren't the best of friends, talking to each other only when it's necessary. From a third perspective, your friendship was a bit toxic, only reaching out to each other when one needed help about something or wanted to talk about books. 

You looked towards the Ravenclaw table, searching for her –Anna. Your eyes found her almost instantly and she nodded towards the letters in your hand, then pointed at herself and held up a finger as if to show ‘one’.

Open my letter first. 

You frowned. Why would she send a letter to you? You slipped your finger under the seal on the back of her letter and flipped it open. As you did that, your eyes fell on the third letter. 

You froze as you saw the sender's name. You could literally feel the blood in your vines stop and your heart speeding up. Your mouth fell open in shock, your mind going completely blank. 

Theodore Nott. 

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taglist: @tomriddleslove

send me a request if you want to be added to the taglist! also, a special thanks to @tomriddleslove for proofreading and being the first person on the taglist!

[gothic-thoughts]

Pinky Promise

Ghostface x Black Fem Reader Drabble

Bimbo!Reader

CW: peeps named Emma caught a crazy stray im sorry 😭

TW: murder mention

Word Count: 952 (give or take)

After waking up at 2 am, you drag your groggy body out of bed, wrap a little blanket around yourself, and slip on your slippers, preparing for the cold air in the hallway. As soon as you open your room door, your phone rings, the sound of your favorite song muffled by the blankets. Confused, you walk back to the bed and rummage through your comforter until your phone falls onto your mattress with a soft thud. The screen was lit up, showing ‘Unknown Caller’ on the screen to which you tilt your empty head and pick it up.

“Uh, hello?”

“Well hello there, pretty girl~”

You chuckle, immediately flattered by the man’s tone and compliment: “Um, hi...? Who is this?”

“You have such a pretty voice over the phone, (Y/n). Sounds sexier than I expected.”

You pause, freezing your steps in the hallway, “Wha- I... wait, how’d you know my name?”

“Oh, I know a lot of things, baby.”

“Really?”

“You may not see me but I see everything.”

“Oh, like a god?”

The man chuckled, mocking your stupidity, “In a way, yes. And you know what, gorgeous?”

“What?”

“Since you asked me how I knew your name, that means you’re not as dumb a bitch as Emma said you were.”

You gasp softly, “She said that?”

“That and more. Your girl Emma gave me an earful; going on and on about how ‘all you do is be pretty’ and that ‘you've got nothing going on’.”

“She... wouldn’t say that—”

“You were nothing but a stupid bimbo to her. She may be right, but the least she could do was say it to your face, don'tcha think?”

“Well, I mean...”

“Emma isn't a very nice person, is she?”

“No, I mean, yes! She’s my best friend!”

He chuckled into the phone, loving how much he was frazzling your singular brain cell with rapid-fire information as you made your way into your kitchen, giving him a better view of you.

“Is she now? I think she was pretty fucking messy, in more ways than one.”

Your grip on the blanket around you tightens, “What do you mean?”

“Well I’m only calling you as per her recommendation, sweet cheeks. She thought she could trade her life for yours, but I quickly informed her that’s not how I roll. And believe me, she had a lot more to say before I split her open tits to thighs.”

You freeze in the middle of the kitchen, jaw-dropping as you lose your breath, your eyes stinging with tears. He chuckles at your faltering breaths while you rack your small brain for why else he could be calling. Your hand trembles against the phone as you frantically look around your kitchen, hoping to find an obvious camera before deciding to close the kitchen curtains.

“Mm, so there are neurons firing in that skull.” He laughs, watching you panic on his monitors, “Do you know why I’m calling?”

“To.... to kill me too...?” The words leaving your mouth make a tear roll down your cheek.

“Now why would I do that, pretty girl?”

“I don't know!” The stress and confusion make you burst into tears. “I swear I don’t know, just please don't hurt me.”

“Aw, there's no need to cry, beautiful, I just want to ask you something.”

“What, that’s all?”

“Mhm; I just want you to tell me what your favorite scary movie is.”

“What? I-I-I—”

The man sighs. “Come on, you don’t need brains for this, baby, this is easy. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Um, Halloween... t-the Rob Zombie one.”

“That's a remake, you know.”

“Y-yeah, I rewatch it all the time.”

“Interesting. What do you like about it?”

“Um, Michael's backstory makes you feel bad for him and then I like his long hair when he's older.”

The man chuckles in your ear, “So you like big guys with long hair huh? You like masks too?”

“I guess, maybe, I don’t know...”

“So, let's say a handsome guy with long hair walks into your room wearing a mask: what would you think?”

“How would I know he's handsome if he's wearing a mask?”

“You'd ask him to remove it?”

“I guess I'd want to know what he looks like.”

“Mm, so you don’t like masks, that’s a shame."

"N-no, please, I do! I do, I do!"

"Save it. So if it was me, in your house, looking for you, all big and tall like Michael: how would you feel about that?”

You whimper, thinking he meant he was already in your home, lurking. “I'd be scared.”

He smirked. “Why’s that, sweetheart? I thought that was your type; I've been a nice enough guy, haven’t I?”

“But you... You killed my friend...”

“She who didn't like you, and since she got what was coming to her, why are you scared?"

“I-I don't know. Uh w-why else would you be calling me if you weren't gonna... gonna—”

“What you're feeling right now is nothing compared to what I do to people I hate."

"Y-you... You mean--"

"You're safe with me, baby. All you gotta do is not call the cops.”

You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, choking up sobs. “You promise?”

“I promise, you wanna know why?”

You take a deep, shaky breath to try and compose yourself, “Why?”

“I like you, (Y/n). I love how fucking clueless you are— so interesting for someone without a single thought in their head. I never know what you're gonna say next. You keep me engaged— entertained: I like that.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. And that voice? That body? Ugh, you have no idea the things I'd do for you. You're helpless, and you're mine now. I’m gonna call you every night just to hear you speak, ya hear me?”

“Okay... Okay, if it means you won’t hurt me, I guess...”

“I already promised, didn’t I? You don’t have to worry that pretty little head about that. All you gotta do is keep me on the line.”

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(a/n): wrote abt ghostface, still managed to make it abt Michael 😩😩 how I even 😭

[81buttons]

'Childcare, skates and kisses'

F1- OS

Franco Colapinto x reader

Summary : Where Franco and you have to spend a day together with your niece

Warnings: So, I kinda realize Idk anything about kids’ ages, so maybe she’s too young for the stuff she’s doing, but whatever, you just play along… lots of fluff ‘cause I really need it. It’s just Franco with kids it’s cute, it’s sweet, that’s all. And maybe a little flirty hint (because, well, it’s Franco) & English is not my first language so sorry :) and i already gave a name to your niece sorry

I’m posting this fic 'cause I’ve had the idea since Vegas. Just to be clear it’s not saying Franco should have kids or anything—he’s still young... It’s just a cute story and it works well since I found out a few days ago that I’m an auntie for the first time,  hiiii !!! To a little niece, so the inspiration came naturally !

NB: Y/B/N = your brother's name

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Franco parked in front of your building, slamming the door of his car with a sigh. He was tired, still a bit out of it from his last trip for a GP, but happy to be back with you after a long race weekend. All he wanted was to curl up in your arms, enjoy your smile, and maybe have a quiet evening together. He knocked softly on the door and waited. A few seconds later, the door opened… but instead of your usual smile, a little girl around five years old, wearing a unicorn pajama, with messy little curls and holding a stuffed animal way too big for her, stood there, looking up at him with a bright smile that reminded him of someone.

— Hi! Who are you? the little girl asked cheerfully.

Franco stammered, clearly confused:

— Uh… hey? And who are you?

He looked behind her, trying to figure out what was going on, but all he could hear was the sound of a cartoon playing in the living room. Before the little girl could answer, you appeared quickly, holding a towel to dry your hands.

— Oh, babe, you’re here! Sorry, I didn’t hear you knock, you said with a soft laugh.

You walked over, lifted your little niece into your arms, kissed her cheek, and gave Franco a quick kiss hello. But Franco, still frozen, couldn’t resist teasing.

— So… do you have something to tell me? Like… we had a baby and you forgot to tell me? he said, raising an eyebrow playfully.

You burst out laughing at his shocked face, and your niece giggled in your arms.

— Silly. This is Emma, my niece. Remember, I told you my brother needed me to look after her today?

Franco sighed, pretending to be relieved:

— Oh, okay. Because I was wondering how I could’ve forgotten something like that. She’s a mini-you, it’s kinda creepy. I thought it was a tiny version of you.

You set Emma down and invited her inside. The little girl, curious, didn’t take her eyes off Franco.

— Are you Uncle Fran? Emma asked excitedly.

Franco raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, amused.

— Uncle Fran? That’s what you call me now?

— I might’ve told her a little about you… She was super excited to meet you, you admitted with a smile.

Franco bent down to look Emma in the eye and pretended to be serious.

— So, you must be… Princess Emma, the mini-version of your auntie Y/N. Nice to meet you, young lady.

Emma burst into laughter and reached her arms out for a hug. Franco, touched, picked her up.

— I hope you didn’t inherit your aunt’s temper, or we’re in trouble.

— No, I’m funnier than her, Emma replied with a laugh.

— Hey! Traitor! you protested, pretending to be offended.

Franco laughed out loud, and you all walked into the apartment. He noticed a tray of cereal, fruit juices, and toast on the table.

— You could’ve told me. I would’ve brought some candy or something, he said.

— Since when you need an excuse to eat candy? you replied, rolling your eyes.

Emma sat down in a chair, but as soon as Franco sat next to her, she climbed onto his lap.

— I want to eat on Uncle Fran’s lap! she declared.

Franco raised an eyebrow, amused.

— Well, princess, you don’t waste any time, do you?

While you made a cup of coffee, you shot a playful look at Franco.

— “Watch out, don’t let those pretty eyes and angel face fool you. She’s going to get you to do whatever she wants,” you warned.

As if to confirm your words, Emma started laughing with an adorable smile. Franco was done for. 

He burst out laughing, beginning to hand her pieces of toast while listening to her chatter about Frozen, the butterflies she learned to draw at school, and her love for unicorns. You watched the scene, amused, as Franco seriously engaged in her conversations, even giving his opinion on unicorns.

When Emma finished her bowl of cereal, she looked up, eyes sparkling.

— Uncle Fran, is it true you’re a race car driver and go super, super fast?

Franco paused dramatically.

— Hmm… who told you that?

— Auntie Y/N, she said mischievously.

Franco looked at you with a teasing smile.

— Oh yeah? You talk about me to everyone, huh?

— Not really. Just to people who care, you replied with a playful look.

Emma tugged at Franco’s sleeve.

— Do you go as fast as Lightning McQueen?

Franco nodded, amused.

— Exactly, mi amor. Like Lightning McQueen, but better.

— And do you always win?

Franco leaned in close, whispering like it was a secret.

— Of course. I’m the best.

From the counter, you burst into laughter and couldn’t help but tease.

— Not always, huh? Sometimes Uncle Fran gets overtaken.

Franco placed a theatrical hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt.

— What’s all this slander? I’m a champion!

Emma, with admiration:

— I think he’s the best!

Franco winked at her and tickled her, causing her to burst into giggles. You watched them, touched by their immediate bond.

You rolled your eyes, but a fond smile played on your lips.

“Alright, champion, since you’re so perfect, could you do me a favor?”

Franco looked at you, a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

“Hmm, depends. What’s the favor?”

You walked up to him, holding a brush and a little flower hair elastic.

“Could you do Emma’s hair while I finish getting ready?”

Emma, hopping with excitement, added:

“I want braids today! Like Elsa!”

Franco raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Braids? You want me to do braids?”

Emma jumped off his lap and ran to grab a blue snowflake hair clip. From across the room, she yelled:

“And my Elsa clip too!”

You crossed your arms, mischievous.

“So, champ, ready to take on the challenge?”

Franco sighed dramatically.

“Fine, okay. But if I mess up, you won’t hold it against me, right Emma?”

Emma trotted back, handing him the clip before sitting down obediently in a chair. Franco stared at the brush in his hands like it was a complicated object.

“So, do I start by brushing? Is that the thing?”

A smirk formed on your face as you sipped your coffee.

“Congrats, you’ve already got the basics down. Keep going, genius.”

Franco began brushing Emma’s curly hair, but the knots made it tricky.

“Ouch, Uncle Fran!”

Franco panicked slightly.

“Oops, sorry, sorry.”

He struggled to separate the strands to make braids, but nothing stayed in place. Passing through the living room, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene.

“Everything okay, champ? Getting through it?”

Franco grumbled in response.

“This is tougher than a gp, your thing.”

You burst out laughing, watching him struggle.

Emma, still cheerful:

“You’re funny, Uncle Fran!”

After several failed attempts, Franco gave up on the braids and went for two pigtails.

“Well, Emma, I think pigtails suit you better than braids. Don’t you think?”

Emma nodded, eyes shining.

“With my Elsa clip?”

Seriously, he pinned the clip to the side and let out a sigh of relief as he admired his work. You came back into the room and inspected the result.

“Well, it’s not perfect, but I’ll admit, you did okay.”

Franco shrugged, pretending to be modest.

“That’s called natural talent”

After breakfast and the hair episode, you suggested a trip to the park. Emma jumped for joy at the idea. Franco, though clearly tired, agreed with a shrug.

“Alright, princess, let’s go to the park. But if you tire me out too much, it’s Aunt Y/N who’s going to have to carry me back.”

You crossed your arms with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll end up carrying Emma AND her backpack.”

Emma, already bouncing near the door:

“Yeah, Uncle Fran!”

Franco shot you a teasing glance.

“You see? I’m the favorite here. Sorry, baby.”

Amused, you grabbed your bag while they got ready to leave.

The trio arrived at the park on a beautiful winter’s day. Emma immediately ran towards the playground but quickly turned around.

“Uncle Fran, come with me!”

Slouched on a bench next to you, Franco sighed.

“She’s got too much energy, that little one.”

You chuckled softly.

“Come on, Uncle Fran. Show her you’re the king of the playground.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Franco stood up.

“Fine. But if I get hurt, you’re massaging me tonight.”

You smiled, teasing.

“Watch out for making a fool of yourself instead.”

With a wink in your direction, he went to join Emma, who was eagerly waiting for him…

Emma climbed up the slide and called out to Franco.

“Uncle Franco, look at me!”

With his hands on his hips, Franco responded,

“I’m watching, princess. Show me what you’ve got.”

Emma slid down laughing, arms in the air. Franco clapped loudly.

“Bravo! But you know, I’m the champion of the slide. No one can beat me.”

Emma looked at him, surprised.

“Really?”

To prove his point, Franco climbed up the slide. With his height, he was clearly too big for it. From a distance, you burst out laughing as you watched him get stuck halfway up.

“Need some help, Uncle Fran?” you shouted teasingly.

Struggling to move, Franco replied,

“No, no, I’m fine!”

Emma, cracking up, encouraged him.

“Uncle Fran, you’re too big for the slide!”

Finally, Franco managed to slide down, landing in the sand, covered in dust. He stood up, proudly brushing himself off.

“There you go, mission accomplished!”

You gently teased him.

“Yeah, really impressive…”

Walking over to you with a mischievous grin, Franco said,

“Jealous? Want to try it, baby?”

You shook your head, amused.

“No thanks. I like to keep my dignity.”

After a busy morning, you all sat down on a blanket while Emma played, building castles in the sandbox.

You said to Franco, a bit admiring,

“You’re really good with kids.”

Franco shrugged, pretending to be modest.

“Of course. Kids love me. I’m irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking.

“Still as humble as ever. You know that doesn’t work if you’re the one complimenting yourself?”

Franco winked at you.

“You’re lucky, Y/N. I like your brother, but I like his little princess even more.”

You let out a playful laugh.

“And now I have to deal with two kids…”

You both burst out laughing, interrupted by Emma, who came running toward you, super excited.

“Look at my castle, it’s so pretty, right?”

After their trip to the park, you all returned to the apartment. Emma, full of energy despite the already busy morning, didn’t seem ready to calm down.

“Uncle Fran, can we play a game?!” she squealed, bouncing up and down.

Sinking into the couch, Franco gave her a tired smile.

“A game? But I’m an old, tired man…”

Emma placed her hands on her hips, her face determined.

“You’re not old, Uncle Fran! You’re just lazy!”

You burst out laughing, sitting next to Franco: “She got you there,” you teased.

Franco raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

“Lazy, me? Alright, little princess, what game do you want to play?”

Emma clapped her hands, excited.

“Hide and seek!”

Franco raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, but I’m warning you, I’m the king of hide and seek. No one’s ever found me.”

Emma crossed her arms, determined.

“We’ll see about that!”

And so, the game began.

Franco slowly gets up, stretching exaggeratedly, before signaling to Emma.

“Alright, it’s you who counts, little spy. But no cheating, okay?”

Emma closes her eyes, placing her hands in front of her face.

“I’m counting to ten. Get ready, Uncle Fran!”

Franco gives you a quick glance, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Watch closely, baby. I’m about to prove I’m the best,” he whispers.

You roll your eyes, amused.

Emma starts counting out loud.

“One… two… three…”

Franco quietly runs through the apartment, looking for a hiding spot. He hesitates between hiding behind the living room curtains or in the bathroom bathtub, but finally decides to lie down behind the couch.

Emma finishes counting.

“Ten! Here I come!”

She opens her eyes and looks around.

“Hmmm… where’s Uncle Fran?”

She walks through the living room, checking behind the curtains, then turns to you.

“Auntie Y/N, do you know where he is?”

You give her a teasing smile.

“Maybe. But I won’t tell you.”

Emma squints her eyes, as if she suspects something.

“You’re kidding! That means he’s close by!”

She runs into the living room, circling the couch. Franco, lying on the floor, deliberately lets part of his shoe stick out.

Emma lets out an excited shout.

“A-ha! I found you, Uncle Fran!”

Franco pretends to jump in surprise.

“Noooo! How did you do that?!”

Emma bursts out laughing.

“I’m too good!”

Franco stands up, lifts her into the air, and spins her around gently.

“Okay, okay, you’re the best. But now, it’s your turn to hide.”

Emma runs off to hide, her laughter echoing through the apartment. Franco turns to you.

“She’s probably going to pick an obvious spot, right?”

You shrug with a smile.

“Maybe. But pretend to have trouble finding her, or she’ll get upset.”

Franco nods, playing along, and starts searching loudly.

“Hmmm… maybe she’s here?” he says, deliberately checking under a cushion.

“Nope.”

He moves toward the kitchen and opens a cupboard.

“Or here? Still nothing… Where could she be?”

Emma, hiding under the table with a tablecloth hanging all the way to the floor, tries to hold in her laughter. Franco walks past the table, then stops, glancing at you.

“This is impossible. She’s evaporated,” he says dramatically.

You join in on the game.

“Maybe she snuck back home.”

Franco pretends to panic. Emma bursts out laughing, giving away her hiding spot. Franco suddenly turns his head.

“What?! That sound?!”

He quickly crouches down, lifts the tablecloth, and finds Emma, who’s laughing uncontrollably.

“A-ha! Gotcha!” he exclaims, grabbing her.

He lifts her onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, making her laugh even harder.

After several rounds of hide-and-seek, Emma, tired, settled onto Franco’s lap on the couch. She was playing with his hair while he held her gently. Sitting next to them, you watched the scene with a soft smile.

You rest your head on Franco’s shoulder, happy to see him being so sweet with your niece. This simple but perfect moment of closeness reminded you once again why you loved him.

A little later, Franco insisted on making something, even though he wasn’t exactly a master chef.

Franco, rummaging through the fridge: “Let’s see… Eggs, cheese, ham… Perfect, I’m making you an omelette.”

You cross your arms, a teasing smile on your lips.

“An omelette? How original… Should we call a food critic to rate it?”

Franco taps his chest, feigning offense.

“Babe you’re talking to a master of simple, efficient cooking. I can make meals with an even emptier fridge. Get ready to be impressed.”

You hold back a laugh.

“You don’t make them, you order them.”

Franco rolls his eyes, amused.

“Yeah, well… We do what we can, okay?”

Emma, sitting at the table, watches him with admiration.

“I want an omelette with lots of cheese, Uncle Fran!”

Franco turns to her with a smile.

“Of course, princesa. Anything you want. But if Auntie Y/N keeps doubting my chef skills, she’ll get a tiny omelette.”

You shake your head, amused, and decide to set the table while Franco prepares the meal.

After lunch, Emma enjoys a yogurt, but your phone rings. It’s your brother. You pick up immediately.

“Hello? Oh, Y/B/N, are you okay?”

On the other end, your brother sounds stressed. He explains that he’s stuck at work because of an unexpected emergency and won’t be able to pick up Emma as early as planned.

“Can you pass me the phone, please? I need to explain it to her.” your brother asks.

You look down at Emma, who’s playing with her spoon, and hand her the phone.

“Emma, it’s your dad. He wants to talk to you.”

Emma eagerly takes the phone.

“Hi, Daddy! Are you coming soon?”

In a soft but apologetic voice, her dad explains that he won’t be able to come because of work. Emma nods, but her smile fades.

“Okay, Daddy…”

She hands the phone back to you, clearly disappointed.

Seeing the little girl sad, Franco sets his napkin down and kneels next to her.

“Hey, princess. Why the long face?”

Emma, her eyes downcast:

“Daddy was supposed to take me to see Santa and have a big hot chocolate. But he can’t come…”

Franco thinks for a second, then claps his hands.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. What if me, Auntie Y/N, and you go see Santa together?”

Emma looks up, her eyes sparkling.

“Really? You’d come with me?”

Franco, with a big grin:

“Of course! And I promise we’ll get the biggest hot chocolate we can find.”

You cross your arms, teasing:

“And I’m supposed to carry all the gift bags, right?”

Franco raises an eyebrow.

“Obviously. Who else?”

Emma bursts out laughing, her mood completely lifted.

A few hours later, you arrive at the mall, lit up with Christmas decorations and twinkling lights. Santa is sitting in a big red chair, surrounded by fake presents and a giant Christmas tree.

Emma, jumping with excitement while holding Franco’s hand, looks at you eagerly.

“Uncle Franco, do you think Santa will recognize me?”

Franco, with a serious smile, replies,

“Oh, of course. Princesses like you, he never forgets them.”

You can’t help teasing the little one.

“And maybe he’ll ask you why you didn’t listen to Uncle Franco when he told you to eat your vegetables at lunch.”

She stares at you, horrified.

“No! Uncle Fran, did you tell him?”

Franco bursts out laughing.

“No, mi amor, I’ve got your back. But next time, eat your veggies, okay?”

She nods vigorously, clearly relieved.

When it’s finally her turn to meet Santa, Emma climbs onto his lap, her eyes sparkling. You take out your phone to capture the moment, while Franco, next to you, can’t take his eyes off her, touched by the sight.

“She’s really adorable. She looks so much like you.”

You shoot him a playful look.

“At least she doesn’t have your ego, though.”

He pretends to be offended but just smiles, absorbed in watching Emma happily chat with Santa.

A little later, Franco insists that you all go to the mall’s café. He orders a hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream for Emma, a coffee for you, and a hot chocolate for himself.

He shows his cup to Emma with a smile.

“See? Even big guys like me love hot chocolate.”

The little one bursts into laughter.

“With lots of whipped cream, like me?”

“Exactly.”

You watch them, amused, rolling your eyes but unable to hold back your smile.

As you leave the mall, Emma, holding Franco’s hand and hopping with joy after her huge hot chocolate, spots an ice rink set up outside, surrounded by twinkling lights and Christmas music.

“Ohhh, Auntie Y/N, Uncle Fran, look! An ice rink! Can we go, please?”

You furrow your brow, eyeing the ice. “Oh, um… I don’t know, Emma. It looks slippery, and dangerous, and…”

“But, Auntiiiee… I just want to try, just a little bit!” She gives you that irresistible puppy-dog look.

Franco, next to her, grins slyly. “Come on, love. Let her have some fun. She’s small, and there are helpers to guide them.”

You sigh, already knowing you’re going to give in. Emma knows exactly how to make you crack. “Alright, fine. But only if she has all the safety gear.”

“Yessss! Thank you, Auntie Y/N!”

Once at the rink, you find a helper ready to assist the kids on the ice. Emma, equipped with skates, a helmet, and elbow pads, looks like a little doll in her pink puffer jacket and matching gloves.

She awkwardly glides on the ice, laughing out loud and sometimes holding onto the barriers or the helper. Franco, by your side, watches her with a fond smile.

“Look at her. She’s adorable. A real champion.”

You smile, touched. “Yeah, and so brave. I could never do that.”

Franco turns to you, a teasing smile on his lips. “Never? You mean you’ve never skated before?”

“I have, when I was little. But I was awful. I kept falling. And I’m not about to embarrass myself today.”

“Baby, that’s part of the fun. Besides, I’m here. I’ll hold you up. I promise.”

You hesitate, looking at him. “Franco, no. I’m definitely going to fall.”

He insists, a charming smile on his face. “If you fall, I’ll catch you. I’m your safety net.”

You roll your eyes, but Emma, from the ice, starts cheering you on.

“Auntie Y/N! Come skate with us! It’s so fun!”

After a lot of persuasion, you finally agree to put on skates. Franco holds out his hand to help you onto the ice.

“Oh my God, it’s so slippery. I’m going to die,” you murmur as you put one foot on the ice.

Franco laughs softly. “Baby, it’s an ice rink, and I’m right here. Relax.”

You grab his arms immediately, refusing to let go. “I’m warning you, if I fall, I’m killing you.”

“If you fall, we’ll fall together. It’ll be romantic,” he teases.

With a lot of effort and you clinging to him like an octopus, you move slowly on the ice. Franco chuckles as he guides you. “Baby, you know you’re supposed to move your feet, right? You’re just hanging onto me.”

“I’m moving my feet, you liar! It’s just… Aaaah, that guy’s going to run into us!”

A fast skater passes by, and you panic, losing your balance.

As you slide backward, Franco tries to catch you but loses his balance too, and you both end up on the ground, laughing uncontrollably.

“I told you I was going to fall!” you say between laughs.

“Yeah, but you could’ve avoided dragging me down with you!” He laughs too, lying on the ice.

Emma, having seen the whole scene, approaches slowly with the helper’s help.

“Auntie Y/N! Uncle Fran! Why are you on the ground?”

You try to get up, still laughing. “Because your Uncle Fran is terrible at skating.”

“Hey! You fell first!” Franco retorts, helping you get back up.

He rubs your back, concerned despite his smile.

“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Just my ego.”

“Your ego can take it. But let’s call it a day, okay?”

You both make your way to the edge of the rink while Emma continues to skate joyfully with the helper. Your cheeks are still red, and you glance at Franco.

“I hate you for making me do that.”

He plants a kiss on your temple, smiling.

“No, you love me.”

“Hmm… Maybe. But don’t expect me to get back on that ice.”

Franco smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you both watch Emma laugh and skate, full of energy.

After their crazy day at the mall and the ice rink, Franco, Emma, and you finally make it back home. Emma’s cheeks are still rosy from the cold, but she’s buzzing with energy, even after everything. Franco’s got her in his arms, and she’s wiggling around happily.

“Uncle Franco, do you think we can have some candy before dinner?” she asks, eyes wide with hope.

Franco grins, teasing. “Candy? Well, you know, candy are only for good kids mi amor. Are you sure you’ve been good today?”

Emma pulls the most adorable pout. “Yes! I’ve been good!”

You can’t help but laugh as you take off your coat, watching their back-and-forth. “Franco, stop messing with her, she’s been perfect all day. Plus, you’re the first one to cave when she gives you those puppy eyes.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, still playful. “Hey, it’s not my fault she has your look. How am I supposed to resist?”

While Emma settles in the living room with some toys, you and Franco get started on dinner in the kitchen. You’re chopping veggies while he’s distracted, digging around in the fridge. But it’s clear his mind’s not really on food. When he shuts the fridge door, you can feel him right behind you before he even says a word.

Without looking back, you call out, “Franco, I know you’re there. Don’t even think about it, I’m busy.”

“Me? I just wanted to… watch,” he says in a teasing, innocent voice.

You feel his hands rest lightly on your hips, and he leans in close to your ear, his voice low and soft. “But honestly, babe, after a day like today, I think I deserve a little reward.”

You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. Holding your knife, you turn slightly towards him. “Franco, Emma is literally three feet away. Can you calm down a bit?”

“Calm? Me? Baby, I’m perfectly calm.” His hands glide gently over your hips, pulling you a little closer to him.

You feel his warm breath on your neck as he adds in a more provocative tone, “But you know, I missed you, and it’s your fault. With you in the same room as me… How am I supposed to stay focused?”

A soft laugh escapes you, though you try to keep a straight face. “Franco, let go of me. And stop with your nonsense before I cut you off a finger.”

He leans in further to plant a light kiss just below your ear, making your cheeks heat up. “Oh, I promise I can distract you in a much more fun way…”

Blushing, you say, “Franco!” before turning completely around to try to push him away. But he stays right where he is, that cocky grin you know so well on his lips.

“What? I’m just trying to help…” He glances down at the cutting board, then back up at you, amused. “But honestly, cutting carrots isn’t really my thing. I prefer when you do other things with your hands…”

You’re left speechless, shocked by his insinuation, but before you can respond, he bursts out laughing.

“Franco, I swear, if you keep this up, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” you say, crossing your arms.

He tilts his head with a charming smile. “On the couch? Oh, babe, you know I can’t sleep far from you.”

He moves even closer, his lips almost brushing yours. “And neither can you,” he whispers.

You roll your eyes, but he sees your smile starting to give away your amusement. “You’re impossible, do you know that?”

“Oh, I know. But admit it, that’s why you love me.”

Before you can reply, he captures your lips in a soft kiss that quickly turns more passionate. You both completely forget where you are.

A little voice suddenly rings out from the kitchen entrance. “Ewwww!”

You both jump apart, caught red-handed. Emma stands in the doorway, hands on her hips, with an exaggerated grimace.

“What are you doing? Why are you kissing like that? It’s disgusting!”

Franco takes a small step back, a mischievous smile on his lips, while you turn bright red. “Nothing at all, Emma. Uncle Franco is just… annoying,” you quickly reply.

Emma, narrowing her eyes, asks curiously, “Annoying? Why? Did he steal a candy?”

Franco laughs and crouches down to Emma’s level. “No, little princess, it’s because your Aunt Y/N is really beautiful, and I love giving her kisses. And even though she pretends otherwise, I promise you she loves when—”

A well-placed dish towel smacks him on the shoulder, and interrupts his sentence. He rubs his shoulder, laughing out loud, before adding, “Plus, you see, princess. If I had stolen a candy, I’m sure Aunt Y/N would have already punished me.”

You hold your head in your hands, tired of his antics, while Emma looks at him skeptically before changing the subject.

“I’m hungry. Is it ready?”

“Not yet, sweetheart. Give us five minutes,” you say with a smile.

She nods and heads back to the living room, but not without a final warning. “Uncle Fran, be careful. If you bother Aunt too much, I’ll tell Santa.”

Franco raises his hands, amused. “Promise, princess, I’ll be good.”

You shake your head with a mix of amusement and frustration. “See what you’ve done? Even Emma is wary of you now.”

He shrugs. “But baby, I can also try to be really good with you… but I’m not sure you’ll like that version.”

You give him a light elbow in the ribs, but your laughter betrays you—despite everything, you adore him

After dinner, you all crash on the couch.

“Auntie Y/N, can we watch Frozen?” Emma asks, her big eyes all hopeful, her stuffed animal gripped tight like it’s her lifeline.

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Again? Haven’t we watched it, like, ten times already this year?”

Franco, clearly enjoying this, jumps in.

“Come on, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. Let It Go is a masterpiece. I’m all in.”

You look at him, half amused, half annoyed.

“Really, Franco? Don’t encourage her, she’ll want to watch it three times tonight.”

Franco grins and winks at you.

“I’m ready to duet with her if that’ll win you over.”

Emma bursts out laughing, clapping her hands.

“Yes, Uncle Fran, sing with me!”

You roll your eyes but give in anyway.

“Alright, alright. But you two watch and sing, and I’ll just chill and nap through it like always.”

You all settle on the couch: Franco in the middle, you on his left, and Emma on his right, all snuggled up with her stuffed animal. The movie starts, and Emma is totally hooked from the opening scene. Franco, though, keeps sneaking glances at you, grinning as you try not to give in to the song.

Franco, whispering: “Admit it, you’re gonna get up and dance when Elsa sings.”

You glance at him, not buying it.

“In your dreams, Colapinto.”

“Oh, trust me, my dreams are way better than that.”

You nudge him playfully, but he grabs your hand and kisses it gently, still smiling.

“Ugh, stop kissing!” Emma says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

You laugh out loud, and Franco raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, princess, no more kisses in front of you. Promise.”

Emma nods happily and turns back to the movie.

As the movie goes on, Emma starts blinking slowly, her energy fading fast. You’ve leaned your head against Franco’s shoulder, half asleep yourself. Franco wraps an arm around your waist, the other one around Emma, who’s finally asleep against him, her stuffed animal still clutched tight.

Franco, whispering, glancing at you: “She’s pretty cute, huh?”

You close your eyes, barely mumbling.

“Yeah, she is. You’re not too bad as Uncle Fran either.”

Franco smiles softly and plants a kiss on top of your head.

Soon enough, all three of you are knocked out.

An hour later, your brother arrives, using his spare key after knocking with no answer. He freezes when he walks in, seeing you and Franco both out cold on the couch, with Emma curled up between you two, her stuffed animal still held close.

He stands there for a second, just watching, a soft smile on his face. Finally, you wake up a little, hearing a noise. You open your eyes, confused, and jump when you see your brother.

“Whoa, you scared me!” you whisper, panicked.

Your brother grins and says, “I’m here to pick up Emma. But… honestly, you guys are cute like this.”

Blushing, you sit up carefully so you don’t wake Emma.

“I’ll wake Franco.”

You shake him lightly, and he blinks his eyes open, looking half-dazed.

“What? What’s going on? Let me sleep a bit longer, please…”

You laugh, saying, “Wake up, my brother’s here to get Emma.”

Franco slowly sits up, but Emma, still asleep, clings to him like a little koala.

“No… stay…” she mumbles, half awake.

Franco gives you a soft look and smiles.

“I’ll carry her to the car.”

Franco walks your brother to the car with Emma in his arms. She stirs a little but doesn’t wake fully, and Franco takes advantage of that to buckle her into the car seat without a fight.

Your brother, smiling, says, “Thanks for watching her. She had a great day.”

Franco, grinning: “It was fun. She’s awesome, your little one.”

Just before leaving, your brother adds, “Hey, you guys mind keeping her next weekend? Just for a night?”

Before you can answer, Franco jumps in.

“Of course! We’d love to!”

You chuckle and shake your head.

“He’s gonna steal her from you, watch out.”

You all laugh before saying goodbyes.

When you and Franco finally got home, you were completely exhausted. Franco shut the door behind you, kicking off his shoes with a sigh of relief, while you collapsed on the couch, arms spread out like you’d just finished a marathon.

“Man, I didn’t think a five-year-old could be so… energetic.”

Franco flopped down next to you.

“She’s adorable, but yeah… I’m wiped. How does your brother survive every day? Does he have special training or something?”

You burst out laughing, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It must be in their DNA. I still haven’t recovered from today.”

Franco wrapped an arm around you, a mischievous grin on his face.

“So, Colapinto, you thinking about starting a career in babysitting?”

“Maybe. I mean, I’m pretty good at it.”

“Admit it, you’re a little jealous that Emma preferred me. She wanted to hang out with Uncle Fran all day.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, stop. She liked you because you spoiled her. Mr. ‘I’ll skate, sing Let It Go, and have a tea party dressed as a princess with an Elsa headband.’ I can’t compete with that.”

Franco, amused, protested.

“What?! I looked amazing in that headband, and you know it.”

“Amazing, maybe. Ridiculous, definitely.”

You both burst into laughter, your shoulders shaking with exhaustion. Franco turned slightly toward you, his playful look softening into something more serious.

“Honestly, though, I had a great day. Emma’s awesome. But you weren’t bad either. Even though you freaked out on the ice and ended up falling into me.”

You gave him a mockingly outraged slap on the arm.

Franco gave you a heated look.

“What? I’m just saying you were irresistible. You remember on the ice? Clinging to me like your life depended on it? It was almost sexy, babe.”

“Stop teasing me! I thought we were gonna die out there!”

Franco smiled, one corner of his mouth twitching up.

“Die? A little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Blushing, you snapped back.

“Stop it! And I remind you, it’s your fault we fell.”

“Me?! Baby, I was holding you, but you panicked like we were about to die. You were literally clinging to me like I was your last hope.”

You gave him a soft tap on the shoulder.

“Well, you were supposed to be my last hope, Mr. Know-It-All.”

You both laughed again, but this time, the laughter faded, leaving a softer silence between you. Franco looked at you, his teasing expression giving way to something more serious.

“You know… watching her today, playing with her… it got me thinking.”

You looked at him curiously.

“Thinking about what?”

“About us. Maybe one day. Not now, obviously! I know it’s not the time. But… have you ever imagined yourself, you know, with a kid?”

You paused for a moment, your face showing a mix of surprise and tenderness.

“Honestly… I don’t know. It’s scary, right? Being a parent, it’s so much responsibility. And look at me, I couldn’t even convince a little girl to put on her hat properly today.”

Franco smiled softly, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, but you’d be amazing. Seriously. You have this way of making everything seem easier. Even today, with Emma, you were great.”

To lighten the mood, you teased him.

“Great? Are you sure we lived through the same day?”

“Absolutely. You were sweet, caring… a little panicked on the ice, but hey, nobody’s perfect.”

You laughed, nudging him lightly.

“And you? Mr. Perfect Uncle Fran. You really see yourself as a dad?”

Franco took a deep breath, thinking it over.

“Yeah… I think I could be. Today, when Emma looked at me with those big eyes and asked if I could carry her… it was like I really mattered to her, you know? And… I liked it.”

You looked at him, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

“You know, you’d be a really great dad.”

Franco turned his head toward you, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Is that a subtle way of telling me something, babe?”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head.

“No, not yet. But I see it, you’ve got a way with kids. She adores you. And you were amazing with her. I think you’d be an incredible dad.”

Franco shrugged, feigning indifference.

“Of course I would be. With you by my side, we’d make an awesome team.”

You gave him an amused look.

“You really know how to flatter a girl, huh?”

Franco gently pulled you closer.

“I’m just telling the truth. And who knows? Maybe one day, our little boy or girl will beg you to sing Let It Go with me.”

You burst into laughter, resting your head against his chest.

“If that happens, we’ll have to wait a while. For now, we’ve got a lot on our plates. But maybe one day…”

Franco kissed your forehead, gently squeezing your hand.

“One day, then. But only if you promise not to freak out on the ice in front of our future kid.”

“Promise… but only if you promise never to wear an Elsa headband again.”

You both laughed again, and you snuggled a little closer to him. The day had been long, but in this quiet moment, everything felt just right. Together.

[cwritesforfun]

Hi!!

So, I'm so desperate for a Emma D'arcy x Fem Reader fic!!

Pleeeasee

Ok here you go: hope you enjoy!!!

Emma D'Arcy x Fem!Reader: Co-Workers or Something More? (Request)

Y/N = Your Name using She/Her/Hers pronouns Emma's pronouns are They/Them ** I do not own any House of Dragon plot points briefly mentioned

Y/N's POV

Getting the role of Alicent on House of Dragon was nerve-wracking. You were a huge fan of Game of Thrones and even read all the released books. You've been working for years towards getting a role in any TV show or movie. You have been in some indie films and when you got the call to be Alicent, you thought you were dreaming. It was amazing. It was probably one of your favorite days to ever exist.

At the table read for the first season, you were pouring a cup of coffee for yourself when you heard, "So you're playing Alicent?" You turn and see someone beautiful staring at you. You felt lost in their soft blue eyes for years if you could. You instead say, "Yes I am, my name is Y/N. Nice to meet you, what's your name?" The person standing opposite you says, "It's lovely to meet you, Y/N. Y/N is such a beautiful name. I'm Emma D'Arcy and I'm playing Rhaenyra." You reply, "Emma is a beautiful name for a beautiful person. Rhaenyra is a Targaryen, so I am jealous." Emma lets out a laugh and says, "I'm flattered. Say, do you want to grab a bite to eat after this?" You nod and answer, "Sounds great." You both take your seats next to each other, and the table read begins. It lasts several hours.

Afterward, you and Emma make your way out to a restaurant that claims to have great cocktails. You arrive, get seated in a booth, and both order drinks. Emma orders a Negroni Sbagliato with prosecco in it and you order a Gin Martini with a twist. (If you know, you know.)

The night carries on with you two discussing your career, your lack of a love life, and dragons. It's a great night with even better company.

The next 10 months as you film season 1, you become close with the cast, especially Emma. You both hang out outside of filming time and you really like Emma. You find yourself dreaming of Emma some nights and you can barely meet their eyes. It's so embarrassing to have a crush, especially on a coworker. Emma also flirts when they get drunk and it's always directed to you. You don't know if they're just drunk or actually like you.

Season One finishes filming and the whole cast is at an open bar. You're sitting sipping your second gin martini and you are starting to feel tipsy. You hear, "Is this seat taken?" You see Emma standing there in all their glory and you shake your head. Emma sits next to you, leans back, and puts an arm around the back of your seat. Should you lean back... or what...? You lean back and Emma's hand finds your shoulder. Emma exclaims, "I was wondering if you were going to move closer." You reply, "Sorry, what was that? I keep getting lost in your eyes, what too cheesy?" Emma laughs and asks, "Is that why you've been avoiding me on set?" You shrug and answer, "Yes, you exist in my daily life and in my dreams. It's hard to look at you after I dream about you." Emma raises an eyebrow, places their other hand on your thigh, smirks, and asks, "And what are we doing in those dreams, may I ask?" You place one of your hands on Emma's hand on your thigh and answer, "Oh you know hot stuff." Emma smiles and asks, "Wanna get out of here?" You nod.

You both leave the party together and head to Emma's place.

When you get there, Emma complains about being hungry so you agree to cook with them. You both cook pasta, listen to music, and dance together. You both eat dinner so fast while laughing whenever you make eye contact.

You both walk to the couch and Emma asks, "Just a question, but when you said hot stuff in your dream with me, does that mean you have a crush on me?" You answer, "It's so embarrassing being a 30-year-old with a crush, but yes I do like you like that." Emma says, "I think the only embarrassing thing would be if I didn't feel the same way... I like you too. I really like you. I want to kiss you, but I know we're both really tipsy." You reply, "We can still kiss tipsy. I give my consent." Emma smirks and replies, "I think if we kiss, I won't be able to stop." You smirk and ask, "OK then what should we do?" Emma answers, "We could just watch a show or sleep."

You both watch a part of a movie until you both start falling asleep and waking each other up. You go to the bedroom to sleep and you wear one of Emma's shirts to bed. Emma is the big spoon and cuddles you as you drift off to sleep.

You wake up cozy and with a raging headache. You groan and twist a little. You hear Emma groan next to you and they say, "Morning. Is it just me or did those drinks really break your head?" You say, "I'm in pain. Yeah... but I liked waking up next to you." Emma replies, "I liked waking up to you too. You're a good cuddle buddy."

You both get up, you borrow clothes from Emma, and you go out to eat breakfast. You eat breakfast sandwiches and start to feel like a human. You go back to Emma's place, get back into pajamas, and turn on the TV to watch something.

Emma exclaims, "Let's kiss." You smile and say, "OK." Emma cups your face gently and you kiss. It's even better than in your dreams when you kiss them.

Part Two

[mulletmitsuya]

Tokyo Revengers Groupchat (Final Timeline)

Warnings: suggestive (i might have to change this warning to "mentions of sexual content" bcs it's too tame of a warning for the stuff that's actually in here), swearing, the word "pedophile" is mentioned, mentions of substance abuse

Desc: Everyone finds out Takemitchy and Mikey are time leapers, which leads to some...interesting questions

Mitsuya: so let me get this straight

Mitsuya: you're a time traveler, and you've lived dozens of timelines to prevent Hina from dying but she kept dying anyway but then when you got to one where she didn't die, Mikey was some deranged criminal lord and was miserable and depressed and tried to kill himself so you had to go back in time again to make sure everything was fixed but ended up dying while fighting Mikey but then somehow you both went back in time and rewrote all of our entire lives??

Takemitchy: yeah...

Baji: cap

Mikey: it's not

Mitsuya: so Mikey's a time traveler too?

Mikey: yeah it's crazy i know

Draken: do you guys have any way to prove this?

Chifuyu: this explains why i keep getting random visions of me in alternate universes. holy shit

Haruchiyo: weird ass prank

Takemitchy: i think it happened since you're close to me and we basically did everything together. i'm not sure

Inupi: we're just gonna believe this?

Koko: wait, i kind of do

Kisaki: this...defies all logic of anything ever.

Mikey: shut up Kisaki

Mikey: i'm sorry it's just that in ever other timeline you've ruined my life so it's difficult to be nice to you sometimes

Kisaki: so you don't like me because of something i did in another universe?

Takemitchy: *timeline

Mikey: yeah. my bad

Baji: i'm gonna entertain this cause i'm bored but what was i like in other timelines

Mikey: dead

Baji: ...all of em?

Mikey: yeah, it kinda drove me to insanity

Baji: damn

Baji: why?

Mikey: you killed yourself to save Kazutora

Baji: what was the context

Mikey: long story

Baji: there wasn't any other way?

Mikey: you're kinda pissing me off cause that's what i was wondering, actually

Baji: damn

Kazutora: thanks man. appreciate it🙏

Kazutora: i'll slobber on your meat later, as a proper thank you

Baji: i'd appreciate that. thanks homie🙌

Koko: what about me?

Baji: you wanna slobber on my meat? i mean i won't stop you. as long as i can call you kitten.

Koko: ...i was talking about me in alternate universe's😐

Takemitchy: i don't think we should go there guys. there's too many timelines, and not everything was exactly the same. and also in general it was a really traumatizing experience for me and i kind of want to end my life every time i think about it

Hanma: womp womp. what about me???

Mikey: murderer

Hanma: YESSSSS 😭😭😭😭😭

Hanma: THANK GOD, I KNEW IF I COULDN'T DO IT HERE, MULTIVERSE ME WOULD HAVE LIVED THE DREAM

Hanma: are me and Tetta-san together in every universe

Mikey: surprisingly, yes

Hanma: and he denies we're soulmates😔

Kisaki: i will not hesitate to get another restraining order

Hanma: a piece of paper won't stand in my way. let's get married

Kisaki: i will call the police

Draken: guys are we really entertaining this?

Mikey: you went to jail in one of the timelines and you were bald LMAO

Draken: sure

Baji: why'd he go to jail?

Mikey: these guys killed Emma and Ken-chin took revenge

Baji: respectable

Mikey: he was given a death sentence

Baji: that's tough fr

Ran: i'm kinda curious

Ran: humour me, what was i like?? was i famous?

Mikey: you were a criminal. killed people

Ran: sounds about right if i'm being honest

Ran: and Haruchiyo and Rindou?

Haruchiyo: leave me out of Takemitchy's psychotic episodes

Haruchiyo: i think you have a hallucination/delusion disorder or something

Mikey: but don't you believe me?

Haruchiyo: ...

Haruchiyo: Mikey, you're also pretty mentally ill

Mikey: says you???

Haruchiyo: i just have substance abuse problems and i'm getting clean so...

Mikey: GUYS I'M TELLING THE TRUTH I SWEAR

Mikey: I'VE BEEN GOING CRAZY KEEPING THIS A SECRET

Draken: when was the last time you slept?

Mikey: ☹️

Baji: guys just play pretend.

Rindou: what about me?

Mikey: same as your brother just uh, less gay and slutty?

Rindou: story of my life

Inupi: you didn't do Koko

Mikey: criminal

Koko: the whole time?

Mikey: yeah

Mikey: Inupi got normal at some point because he and Ken-chin got close and they fixed bikes together and had sex

Inupi: Draken????

Draken: you're really starting to piss me off.

Mikey: Akane died in the fire though like she was BURNT

Takemitchy: uh Mikey-kun...

Mikey: she was a crisp i'm telling you

Mikey: Inupi you had an ugly red scar on your face and no one wanted you

Mikey: Izana i know you're reading this, you were fucking insane dude like you killed Emma for some fucking reason then Kisaki shot you 3 times in the chest and you died while having a really bad mental breakdown. it was a major L on your part

Chifuyu: Mikey why are you leaving out the fact that the common denominator in every single timeline was that you killed every single one of your friends in the most brutal ways possible🤨?

Mikey: no comment

Smiley: how'd he kill me?

Chifuyu: uhhh

Chifuyu: Takemitchy help me out here

Takemitchy: i don't want to talk about it😐

Chifuyu: I REMEMBER

Chifuyu: backshot

Smiley: ...

Smiley: he killed me by giving me backshots..?

Smiley: i would NEVER take it from behind

Smiley: especially from MIKEY

Smiley: small dick having ass

Smiley: my bootyhole is not to be messed with

Smiley: i'm so pissed off right now holy shit

Smiley: how did i even die???? dick so good it killed me?

Smiley: i'm so angry

Angry: and i'm Smiley😂

Baji: 3/10 joke 👎, poor delivery, fell flat

Smiley: i hope you kill yourself, Mikey

Mikey: trust me, i've tried

Chifuyu: ???

Chifuyu: he shot you in the back with a gun?

Chifuyu: what's wrong with you

Smiley: oh my bad i though you meant like, he was taking me doggy style

Smiley: i'm no bottom

Ran: what is happening

Chifuyu: i'm moving on😐

Chifuyu: Hakkai was tied to a chair and burnt to death

Hakkai: wha-

Hakkai: WHAT DID I DO??

Hakkai: jesus 😟

Chifuyu: why am i getting all these memories, i'm freaking out

Hakkai: Mikey please tell me what i did to deserve that ☹️

Mikey: idk Hakkai i was going through a lot

Draken: have you been diagnosed with anything?

Mikey: i don't need a diagnosis bcs i'm fine now, you're all alive and i don't have any murderous intent!!! yippee🤗

Mikey: isn't this great Takemitchy??

Takemitchy: well, yeah no ones dead so that's great

Izana: this is obviously completely fabricated

Izana: are you guys that bored?

Senju: man for all that time traveling you sure are a shit boyfriend😭

Takemitchy: how????

Takemitchy: did Hina say that☹️??

Senju: it's an observation

Senju: you've had way too many coincidental close calls with other woman💀

Draken: yeah you pissed me off when you thought i was gifting you a prostitute. you had a whole ass girlfriend. shame on you

Senju: and you also almost slept with Emma and you "don't remember"

Smiley: Mitchy's low-key funny as hell because what do you mean you stripped yourself and another girl down to your underwear by accident

Baji: wouldn't Takemitchy be a pedophile then?? Emma was 13 dawg🤨

Mikey: he was 14 though😭

Baji: you're gonna ride Takemitchy's dick to defend him from trying to sleep with your 13 year old sister??? crazy

Baji: wasn't be mentally 26🤨?

Baji: bro i'm gonna beat your ass actually

Mikey: hmm

Mikey: you know what Mitchy, why did you do that 🤨?

Smiley: LMFAOO

Mitsuya: why did i come back to Takemitchy facing pedophile allegations, like what's going on right now

Kazutora: is it not enough that he changed the space and time continuum just to be with his girl?

Kazutora: cheating this cheating that, my boy deserves all the pussy he wants

Kazutora: he's been beaten, shot, stabbed AND killed

Kazutora: i personally believe he's the goat

Baji: ?

Chifuyu: goat is an acronym for "greatest of all time", Baji-san

Baji: what's an acronym

Chifuyu: i'll dm

Kazutora: bro you're so fucking stupid😭

Draken: i don't care if he was skinned alive by an orangutan, there's no excuse to cheat on someone

Rindou: i think being skinned alive by an orangutang warrants having more than one girl. idk that's just me tho

Ran: not the point that's being made rn

Rindou: what exactly is the point that's being made

Rindou: is this real. are we being serious.

Rindou: i don't think i get the joke

Haruchiyo: i think we should all stop talking now

Mikey: Mitchy we need to talk a bit

Takemitchy: i told you this was a bad idea

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 34

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: fluff, some light medical stuff, and some slightly possessive behaviors

wc: 3.1k

Chapter Selection

I got my license that week, and Jason promptly took me to a dealership to get my motorcycle. I didn't know much about bikes, so decided to just trust his opinions. We found one we both thought was perfect, he paid in cash and pushed the paperwork toward me.

“You want me to sign?” I tilted my head a bit.

“It's your bike, princess, it's going to be in your name.” He smiled softly. I chuckled softly, ignoring the tightly controlled expression on the salesman's face, and signed the paperwork.

I kissed his cheek, grinning, and the salesman passed us the keys. “Can we swing by Damian's school to pick him up?”

Jason chuckled, kissing my knuckles. “Anything baby girl wants~”

Jason bought a helmet for Damian while I texted Bruce, Alfred, and Damian to let them know the plan. During the ride to the school I felt so free; like everything was slotting into place. Jason led the way, and we parked out front as the last bell rang. 

Damian eventually approached, followed by a girl. I pulled my helmet off, smiling brightly. “Hey Damian! Who's your friend?”

He cleared his throat; “this is Emma. She wanted to see your bike.”

Emma grinned, stepping closer. She babbled off something about the bike, but it all flew over my head. Jason chuckled, answering her questions, and I offered Damian his helmet. He took it, smiling slightly.

Jason answered the girl's questions about the bikes, and Damian hopped on behind me. Emma eventually turned to Damian grinning; “see you tomorrow, Damian~”

He nodded once, gripping my waist. I chuckled softly; “it was very nice to meet you, Emma.”

She grinned, waving, and we drove off.

“So, she seems nice?” Jason's smirk was audible in our helmets.

“Tt. Shut up, Todd.” Damian growled softly.

I chuckled softly. “So, straight to the manor, or?”

He thought for a moment. “... Yes, Father will want me home. And Alfred was talking about your training, he'll want to speak to you before he starts on dinner.”

“Oh, alright then.” I smiled softly, gently squeezing his hand on my waist, and we flew down the streets toward Wayne Manor.

The gate swung open as we approached, and Jason led us to the garage. Duke grinned as he got out of a car. “Hey! You got your license then?”

Damian hopped down, and I took his helmet for him. “Yeah! Jason and I just left the dealership!”

We all headed inside, Alfred the cat immediately jumped up to rest on Damian's shoulders, and Jason and I headed for the kitchen to look for Alfred the human.

He smiled warmly when he saw us coming; “Ah, I'm glad you're here Miss. I had a proposition for you regarding your training.”

I grinned, leaning over the kitchen island. “Hey Alfred! What'cha got for me?”

“Well, we have nearly a month before the spring semester, and nothing in your educational background leads directly to medical school, so I was thinking we could do a … sort of a crash course?”

I nodded; “something to help get me up to speed?”

“Exactly. I was a field medic myself, back in the day, and I still have my old anatomy books. We could get some preliminary training in before your proper education starts.”

“I'd really appreciate that, thanks!”

He nodded, clearly pleased. “Excellent. I'll get you those books before you leave, and you can join me for lessons twice a week? I was thinking before your combat training on Thursdays, and at the same time on Tuesdays.”

“Sounds great! It really won't be too much of an imposition?”

“Not at all, my dear. Miss Barbara may also use some of the time to get you familiar with Bat-tech. I believe she gifted you a Wayne-phone?” I nodded. “She'll want to go over your access to the Oracle system with you.”

Jason wrapped his arms around my waist, gently squeezing. I rested a hand on his, squeezing back. His arms felt so tense around me, but I smiled reassuringly up at him. He sighed, resting his forehead against my shoulder. “Sounds good, thanks!”

Alfred nodded. “Wonderful. And you two are staying for dinner, aren't you?”

“I dunno, Al-” Jason started.

Alfred cut in, a knowing smile on his face; “I'm making pot roast.”

Jason froze, frowning a bit. “... Yeah?”

I chuckled, leaning back against him. “We've got nowhere to be, right Jay?”

“... Yeah, alright. … Thanks, Alfred.”

He nodded, chuckling softly. “Very good.”

My training with Alfred started that week. As promised, he gave me several books, as well as some medical journals. I read everything he gave me, and we started going over anatomy. 

Babs showed up during the next Bat training day, and gave me the rundown on the Oracle app. It was disguised as a news app, but once I logged in I was given access to view her system. I could track active Bats, send and receive messages, and even access the comms.

Babs took my phone and went back to the home page. “Now, if you get in any kind of trouble, click and hold the icon for three seconds, and…”

Dick and Tim both shouted; “turn it off!”

I jumped and laughed. “What was that???”

She giggled, releasing it and opening the app. “I sent a distress call through the system. Dick and Tim are in uniform, so they got the SOS. You turn it off by opening the app and clicking here.”

“... Does the SOS hurt them or something?”

“No, it's just annoying when you're so close!” Tim frowned, looking over at us; “it’s kinda like echolocation, so the closer we are to you the faster the pings come in.”

“... Why?”

“In case you're unable to respond to us after sending the distress call, for whatever reason.” Dick spoke in a carefully neutral tone. Jason growled softly at the idea, and Dick threw his hands up; “not that that's ever gonna happen. Just a little extra security.”

I nodded. “Makes sense. But what if someone takes the phone?”

Babs popped a piece of the phone case off and slipped an ear piece out of the case. “If you ever get called to pick up an injured Bat, or if you think you're being followed at any time, just pop this in and I'll be able to track you.”

I slid it into my ear, there was a soft beep, and a red plus in a black circle joined the Red Robin and Nightwing icons on the map. I put it back in the phone case and my symbol disappeared. Babs showed me all the icons, so I knew what everyone showed up as, and gave me a clear sheet of plexiglass with a metal bar at the top.

“Jason can install this on your bike later - if you're ever called to pick someone up, just turn it on. It will cover your plates so they can't be read, and when the cops try to scan them their system will tell them you're operating on behalf of the Bats. They won't stop you.”

“Not that you will ever have to do that. We will come to you. Right?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

Babs nodded; “yes, Jason. The plan is that they will go to her. But it's always better to be prepared for the plan to fall apart.”

I nodded, putting it with my gym bag. “Yeah, plans A through Y: you come to me. Plan Z: I pick you up.”

Jason nodded once. “... I still don't like this.”

“Would you like it more if we pretended it was impossible that I'll ever have to ask her to grab someone who passed out on the way to the clinic?” Babs sighed.

“Or that I wouldn't insist on going to get them anyway?” I raised an eyebrow, and Jay growled softly, pulling me close.

“... Just don't go out unarmed, and don't wander directly into a fight, ok? Our enemies don't abide by the Geneva Convention, they relish in attacking first responders.”

I grinned, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and kissed him gently. “No fighting, promise.”

Jason nodded, kissing my forehead. “... I wanna get you licensed to carry a gun too. … Just in case.”

I sighed softly, but nodded. “If it'll make you more comfortable.”

“It will.”

“... You have got to be kidding me.” Jason growled into his phone. I looked over, frowning a bit. “... Fuck. … Fine. Yeah, yeah, I will. … Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

He hung up, tossing his phone aside, and rubbed his face. I raised an eyebrow; “... What?”

He looked over at me slowly. “... That was Roy. … He's got a lead on some unfinished business.”

I nodded. “You sound more upset about this than I'd expect?”

“... I'm probably gonna be out of town all week.”

I nodded, frowning a bit. “That sucks … will you be home in time for the Christmas Gala? Cause I'm not going alone, and Bruce was insistent that we go…’’

“... Last time I left town, I came back to see some jackass trying to hurt you …” he whispered, staring up at me.

I turned the stove off, moving my pan off the heat, and came over to sit next to him. “That was a fluke. I don't have that job anymore, I won't be out alone at night, and I've got the Oracle app if something does go wrong.”

He sighed, gripping my hand. “I … I know … but it did happen. … If I had been two minutes later …’’

I cupped his cheek, making him look in my eyes; “we're not gonna go down that road. You saved me, and since then I've been trained to defend myself better, and I have more resources for if something does happen. You can't be with me every minute of every day, baby. You're not supposed to be; you've gotta live your life too.”

He squeezed my hands, leaning in to kiss me gently. “... I still don't like it … if something happens, I won't be able to help.”

“... Yeah, but do you really think Dick or Tim will allow anyone to hurt me while you're away?”

He frowned. “Huh?”

“I predict that when you leave town your brothers will start checking on me daily. Because if anything happens to me while you're away, they'll never hear the end of it. Will they?”

He stared at me for a moment before chuckling softly, holding me close. “Yeah, I guess not … but …”

“... But that doesn't silence the voice telling you it's not safe, does it?” He shook his head, pulling me closer. I was nearly in his lap, and I stroked his hair gently. “... Is there anything that will make you feel ok about this?”

“... I … maybe, but …”

“What is it?”

“... This is going to sound really bad …”

“That's fine. What can we do?”

“... Can I …. CanIputatrackeronyou?” He mumbled into my shoulder.

“... Baby, you speak so fast when you're anxious. A little slower?”

“... I … I want to put a tracker on you…”

I chuckled softly, holding up my phone. “Oracle already did?”

He looked up at me, unamused, and in an instant he ripped the phone out of my hand, tossing it across the room. “And now you don't have it anymore. See how easy that was? You didn't have time to trigger the SOS, or grab the ear piece. It's just gone.”

I blinked a bit at the dark look in his eyes, stroking down his chest gently. “O- ok, I see your point. … Deep breath, Jay. It's ok.”

He sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he pressed his face against my shoulder again. “Sorry, I … sorry. … I just … can't lose you, ma.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing the top of his head. “It's ok, baby~ … what kind of tracker are we talking about here?”

“... Something no one will think to take off you. … Like … earrings, maybe? Simple ones, nothing flashy that'd get stolen.”

I nodded. “Like basic studs? Ok. Just as something I can wear while you're away?”

“J- just so I know you're safe … not to be weird, promise, just … gotta know you're safe.”

“Ok, Jace. I'll wear it.”

He looked up at me slowly. “Really? … It's not creepy?”

“If you were literally anyone else it probably would be, but I get why you want it, and I trust you. If it will give you peace of mind, I'll wear a tracker while you're out of town on missions.”

He hugged me tighter, almost knocking the air out of my lungs as he muttered his thanks. I chuckled, stroking his hair gently. “... Don't know where you're gonna get tracker earrings at this time of night, but …’’

“I've got some at a safehouse. I can pick them up tonight.”

“... Why am I not surprised?”

Beep. Beep. Beep. My eyes opened slowly and I looked over at my phone. The green Oracle mask was flashing on the screen as I grabbed it. I tapped on the icon, grabbing my pants.

“Oracle? What's going on?”

“Hey Medic, can you get to the cave? Red Hood has been shot. He's stable, but-”

“Refusing medical care?” I was pulling clothes on, grabbing my wallet and keys.

“Yeah. Penny-One said it would be a good opportunity to teach you how to administer stitches.”

“I'll be there as fast as I can. … What kind of 'shot' are we talking about here?”

“Arm wound. He's ok, just needs the stitches. I'm clearing your route to the cave.”

I grinned, stepping into my boots. “You're amazing, Oracle.”

I locked my door and ran down to the parking lot. I clicked a button on the plexiglass license plate cover, secured my helmet, and took off. As promised, I had green lights all through the city. I drove as fast as I felt was safe, or safe enough, and made it to the cave in record time. Red Hood was sitting at the long table, with Arsenal and Nightwing leaning over him.

Batman looked over as I parked and threw myself off my bike, running over to Jason.

“Move.” Roy jumped a bit as I pushed into him, awkwardly stumbling out of the way.

“Jesus, girly, breath. Jay's alright.” He offered me an encouraging smile, but I just waved him off.

“Jason?” I carefully took his hand, examining the wound. His upper arm was a mess of wet red, but he still smiled brightly for me.

“Hey princess~ I'm ok, it was a clean shot. Just grazed me, promise.”

“He lost a lot of blood. Almost passed out on the way back into town.” Dick helpfully piped up; “Roy called me in to get him back to base.”

Jason growled at him; “just need a couple stitches. It’s fine.”

Alfred shooed the boys away, setting a first aid kit on the table. I sighed, kissing Jason's forehead, and stroked his hair gently. “You are an idiot, you know that?”

He chuckled, leaning against my hand. “Yes dear~”

Alfred and I got Jason cleaned up. He gave me a tube of medicated gel to spread around the wound - a local anesthetic. After giving it a few minutes to start working, the Brit walked me through the process to give Jason stitches. He smiled the whole time, mumbling how well I was doing. I flushed, quietly shushing him periodically.

“Let me focus…”

“Sure, sure …” he sighed, watching me work.

When I was finally done, Alfred and I bandaged his arm. I kissed the top of his shoulder, smiling gently, and stroked his hair. “How do you feel?”

“Just fine, baby. You did good.” He gently squeezed my hand.

I chuckled. “I'm glad. Think we can get you up to your room?”

“Let's just go home, baby.” He frowned a bit.

“I want you here overnight, in case any of your stitches pop or unravel or something.”

“They're not gonna-”

“Please, Jay? Just in case?” I frowned, chewing on my lip. He sighed and nodded.

“Ok, doll. Anything you want …” I kissed his forehead and coaxed him to his feet. He let me guide him to the elevator, upstairs, and to his room where he carefully sat on his bed. I helped him out of his shirt and Alfred brought us a couple sets of pajamas.

“Thanks Alfred.” I smiled brightly.

He nodded, smiling a little. “You did very well down there, Miss. Congratulations.”

“Oh … thank you.” I grinned. “I’m just glad he's ok…”

He nodded, “ah, I believe young Master Damian was hoping to see you before bed as well.”

I smiled brightly. “I'll go say hi when Jason's settled. He's just in his room?” Alfred nodded. “Great. Thanks.”

“Sleep well, Miss.” He continued down the hallway, and I turned to give Jason his pj's.

Jay smiled softly, looking up at me. “... I missed you, doll.”

I chuckled, kissing him gently. “Missed you too, Jay~”

He cupped my cheek; “... Go ahead and check on the demon brat. I'll be fine.”

“Ok, thanks baby.” I kissed him again and pulled on my pj's before going to knock on Damian's door.

“Enter.” His voice called out softly. I opened the door, slipping inside. His bedside lamp was on, and he sat up more in his large bed, setting aside his book. “Good evening, sister.”

I smiled softly, sitting on the side of his bed; “good evening, baby brother~” I held a hand out, and he slowly leaned in, letting me push some hair out of his face. “getting ready for bed?”

He nodded, smiling softly as his eyes fluttered shut. “It is a school night …”

“You want me to sing to you?” He nodded again, shifting to lay back.

Damian got comfortable, letting me tuck him in as I sang softly. Once his soft snores filled the room I kissed his forehead, turned the lamp off, and left the room. In the hall I almost ran straight into a tall, looming figure.

“Oh! Sorry, Bruce.”

He stared at me, a sad look in his eyes. “... It's alright. … Damian asked for you?”

I nodded. “Yeah?”

“... That's … nice.”

“... Something wrong?”

“... I sang for him, that time. … He never asked again…”

“Ok?”

“... He still asks for you though.”

“... It's what our relationship has been the whole time. Your relationship is different, that’s allowed. It's good, actually, for him to have different relationships with different people.”

“... I just … I hoped he'd ask again.”

I shrugged. “I understand, but ... You have your things with him, and I have mine. But if you want to spend more time with your children, there's a really easy way to start.”

He sighed. “What's that?”

“Ask.”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics Fanart in the header by: @crowkip

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged @mishkapi @mermaidgirl-11 @bunniboo0015 @bibibusinessman @iimichie

[24hlevi]

Hey, I was wondering if you could write a reader x gen v, where the reader is the more dominant in the relationship if that's ok

Marie moreau, Jordan li, Emma meyer, Cate dunlap, Sam.

hello! i didn't know if you wanted sfw or nsfw type of stuff so i said fuck it and did both, hope that's alright! thank you for requesting 🫶

nsfw hcs & the others are below the cut

— shameless

gen v characters (marie, jordan, emma, cate, & sam) x gn!reader

summary: how it is being the dominant one in the relationship w/ gen v characters

warnings: language, nsfw, praise, riding, handjobs, lowkey brat-taming, edging, thigh riding, hair pulling, oral, exhibitionism(?)

minors do not interact

Marie Moreau -

- marie would honestly be a little hesitant at first but opens up to it more after seeing that's just how you are and that it's both in a domestic way and a lustful way at the same time

- she tries to keep it pretty even, but is also a bit relieved when you take care of her, it's nice for her to not always have to be the one protecting herself but to have someone else there with her

- marie doesn't really like being pampered as much as the others, but will still accept the gestures and enjoy them

- when you two are alone she feels more comfortable with you being in control, and she just melts at the feeling you give her and she will give up, letting you do what you want

- the slightest touch from you is enough for marie to fold, and the way your hands roam her body with such delicacy and love just fills her body with an indescribable feeling she loves

- she loves when you eat her out, her hand in your hair pulling on it when you push your tongue inside and she can't control the noises that leave her mouth after that point

Jordan Li -

- jordan, used to being preferred in their masc form, is one that is a little insecure about how dominant you are in the relationship, believing they should be the one to be that

- however, that quickly stops once they realize that they do enjoy you being the one in control, it makes them feel a little more at ease and without worry of needing to be something they aren't completely

- jordan is more soft in their masc form still, and when you two are alone they are all up on you, they just can't get enough of you and adore you so much

- they absolutely love when you're on top of them riding their cock or strap, whispering praises of how they're doing so well into their ear, the way your body is on full display for them makes them so weak

- they just wanna be praised by you constantly, being told how they make you feel so good, how much you love them and wouldn't leave them for anything, they love every second of it

- what they love the absolute most though is giving you oral, they could sit there for hours making you cum over and over again because if that's what you want, then they'll give it to you at their 100% very best

Emma Meyer -

- girlie is literally the most pillow princess material out of the others like seriously so she won't be saying a damn complaint that you're the dominant one

- emma is hanging on your arm all day all night no matter if you're out with friends or alone, she's always latched onto you and isn't letting go anytime soon, either sitting on your lap or next to you with her head on your shoulder

- she's hardly the one to initiate anything between you two, letting you completely do everything, but she will tease you "unknowingly" until you do something

- she just loves the way you do everything for her, and will lay there and take everything you have to give her, loving the way she sounds and intertwining her fingers with yours

- since she's usually on your lap, she'll sometimes start moving around also "unknowingly" so that you'll stop her with one of your hands and trail your other hand down between her legs, telling her to be quiet if she doesn't want to be caught

- she wouldn't admit it, but the thought of possibly getting caught by others does excite her, and will love if you just pin her down to the wall and take her right there, but again, she wouldn't admit it, you'll have to just try and find out

Cate Dunlap -

- generally speaking, cate prefers being the one in control of things and holding the reins, that being said, she doesn't mind you taking control, and won't be entirely against it, it just takes some time for her to adjust that she doesn't always have to be in control

- but once she's out of that 'i have to be in control' mindset it's a fun time with her entirely enjoying being pampered like a princess

- it's the light touches that you'll leave on her that she immediately can tell what you want, the way you're fingers slowly trail up and down her body, but one thing she loves is being the brat she secretly always was, looking up at you with those big eyes acting like she doesn't know what she's doing

- she just thinks it's fun being a brat and you always have the same reaction every time, and she loves how rough you get with her when she pushes the line a little too far and results in you fucking her harder than the last

- that being said, if you get tired of her bullshit and make her ride your thigh, she quickly falls apart and is begging for you to do something, anything, pulling on your hair in the process

- however she's gonna back talk a lot and purposely get you more irritated unless you gag her with something or fuck her so good all she can do is roll her eyes back and writhing around under you moaning more than talking

Sam Riordan -

- sam is one that doesn't mind at all, he doesn't mind being pampered by you, and he sure as hell doesn't mind when you two are alone, he's wrapped around your finger

- he doesn't entirely understand romantic love between two people, but he quickly gets the gist once he notices how many different things he feels for you and what you do for him

- he was always pretty secretive about sex and would rather jack off alone in a bathroom than say something to you, but the first time you caught him and helped finish him off with your own hand instead of his, he wasn't secretive anymore, especially not with how loud he was moaning

- and from that point on he was not afraid to come to you when he needs it, he'll just wrap his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder and murmuring that he needs your help with something, and you gladly say yes every time

- sam is always good for you, he listens so well when you edge him to the point he's gonna cry if he doesn't cum soon, he always follows the rules you set because he knows how good he'll feel in the end, and the cute begging he gives when he's desperate is enough for you to give him what he wants

- let him fuck you and he's gonna fall apart almost instantly as soon as he feels you around him, he gets so whiny about wanting to feel good and make you feel good too, you still have complete control even if you're under him, and he always does what you tell him to

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 1 ~ 42

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,810ish

Summary: The group heads to Paris, where the plan goes wrong.

Warning(s): a lot of movie dialogue, fights, Stryker

Notes: STRYKER LOOKS LIKE THE ORIGINS STRYKER NOT DAYS OF FUTURE PAST STRYKER. Also, I hope that this makes a lick of sense and isn't too choppy. Please let me know your thoughts.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

Logan sent you and Peter to get the car while Erik was told the reason that he had been broken out of the Pentagon. Once you returned with the car, everyone loaded up, and you headed to a private airport. A private airport was waiting on the runway when you arrived.

“Uh, do any of you know how to fly this thing?” you asked, eying the nice plane.

“I do,” Hank said, heading up the stairs. “I’ll get everything ready.”

You looked over at James. “This is our second flight in a day, and this is much longer. Are you sure you'll be okay?”

Logan could have melted at the concern shining through in your eyes. “You’ll sit with me?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll be just fine, sweetheart.”

Keeping his eyes locked on yours, Logan slowly reached forward and took your hand. Your breath caught at the feeling of your hand in his. He had held your hand before, but something was different about this. Logan gave your hand a light squeeze before guiding you up the steps and onto the private plane. As much as Logan wanted to sit beside you and hold you tight, he knew that he was already pressing too much. He led you to a seat and then sat across from you with a small table between.

Erik entered the plane soon after and reached for the newspaper that rested on the small table between you and Logan. Logan quickly pinned the newspaper to the table with his claws.

“Imagine if they were metal,” Erik scoffed, walking to one of the back seats.

Logan bit down a remark as he pulled out a cigar. He went to light it, but you quickly killed the flame from his lighter. 

“Are you really going to do that while we all sit in this cramped plane?” You asked, exasperated. 

“What? It’s not illegal yet,” Logan retorted.

Your brows creased together. “You make it sound like someday it will be.”

“Uh, well, yeah, because of people like you who don't like the smell.”

“Right.”

“So you really won’t let me light it?”

“Not a chance, James.”

His lips tugged into a small smile, barely there, as he put the lighter and cigar back in his pocket. “Then how am I going to survive this flight?”

“Here,” you reached your hand across the table and wiggled your fingers. “Take it.”

Logan didn't waste a second in placing his hand in yours. At the same time, Charles entered the plane and went to the back to sit down. Hank got the plane in the air, causing Logan to grip your hand tighter. The silence in the plane was almost suffocating as Charles glared at Erik.

“How did you lose them?” Erik asked Charles. 

“The treatment for my spine affects my DNA,” Charles explained.

“You sacrificed your powers so you could walk?!”

“I sacrificed my powers so I could sleep.” Charles shook his head. “What do you know about it?”

"I've lost my fair share.”

Charles let out a cold laugh. “Dry your eyes, Erik. It doesn't justify what you’ve done.”

“You have no idea what I've done.”

"I know you took the things that meant the most to me."

“Well, maybe you should have fought harder for them."

Charles and Erik stood up to be face-to-face. "If you want a fight, Erik, I will give you a fight!"

"Sit down!” Logan demanded.

“Let him come," Erik responded.

Charles seized Erik by the front of his shirt. "You abandoned me!” He exclaimed. “You took her away, and you abandoned me!”

“Angel. Azazel. Emma. Banshee,” Erik grew angrier with each name, his powers beginning to control the plane. “Mutant brothers and sisters, all dead! Countless others experimented on, butchered!” 

Erik's powers rattled the plane and set it on a downward trajectory. The force caught you off guard, sending you flying sideways out of your seat. Logan's grip on your hand was the only thing to keep you from hitting your head. With a groan, Logan pulled you into his lap. 

“Hold on to me,” Logan mumbled. 

Your arms slipped around his neck as he held tightly to the table to keep you both in place. You tried to remain calm at how it felt to be in his lap and this close. You took a deep breath to keep your heart and powers at bay.

"Where were you, Charles?!” Erik continued. Charles was holding onto the ceiling and a seat to try and not fly around.

“Erik!” Hank shouted as he tried to regain control of the plane. 

”We were supposed to protect them! Where were you when your own people needed you?! Hiding! You and Hank! Pretending to be something you're not! You abandoned us all!”

“ERIK!”

Erik relinquished control of the plane. “You abandoned us all.” 

Both Charles and Erik were panting as they stared each other down. Unable to take it anymore, Charles went up and took the pilot seat next to Hank. Logan’s hands came up to cup your face, his eyes frantically scanning for any sign of injury.

“I'm okay," you told him, grabbing his wrists and giving them a little squeeze.

“You sure?" He still was looking you over.

“Yes. Are you okay?”

Logan’s eyes finally met yours. “Yeah. Just great.”

You nodded, not believing him. “I’m going to use the restroom.” You pushed off of him and slipped into the nearby restroom.

Logan sighed, fixing his position in his seat. “So, you were always an asshole."

Erik scoffed. “I take it we're best buddies in the future,” he turned and responded.

Logan chuckled. “I spent a lot of years trying to bring you down, bub.”

“How does that work out for you?”

“You’re like me. You’re a survivor.” Logan looked around at the mess left due to Charles and Erik's argument. “Do you wanna pick all that shit up?"

The conversation died down, silence filling the plane. Including you, frozen in the restroom as you overheard their conversation. The future? Is that why James was acting so strange? But then... why—how did he look the same? Was this all a trap? This was a conversation you needed to have with James alone and not in the middle of the air with strangers. Except, these people didn't seem like strangers to him. Taking a deep breath, you needed to bury down the fear and anxiety that was bubbling up inside of you. You slipped out of the restroom and sat back in your seat.

Logan knew you too well. The second his eyes fell on you, he knew something was wrong. His brows pinched together as he leaned forward, trying to catch your eye, but he could tell you were avoiding it.

“Sweetheart, what's wrong?” He whispered.

The question was something you noted. The two of you had known each other for less than a year, and he was asking like he knew you like the back of your hand.

“I’m fine," you replied. “Just tired.” You moved to curl up in the chair. 

“Y/N—“

“I’m fine, James," you snapped. "Let me get some rest."

Logan watched as you curled up and closed your eyes. An anxious knot formed in his stomach. He was going to lose you at this rate, and he didn't even know how to fix it without completely making it worse. As soon as he could tell that you were asleep, he pulled off his leather jacket, stood up, and carefully placed it on top of you. Logan couldn't control himself as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of your head. Tears threatened to overtake his eyes as he thought that this could be the last gentle moment he had with you. He needed to savor it.

“You love her,” Erik stated quietly from where he was sitting.

Logan grunted in response as he sat back down. “In the future, she's my wife.”

“Is she waiting with the future versions of Charles and I?”

“She died. The Sentinels killed her right before I was sent back here.”

“Makes more sense now. You're not doing this for anyone else. You're doing this for her."

“Everything I will ever do is for her.”

~~~

You were thankful to wake up almost in Paris. Though the woodsy smell of James' cigars instantly overtook your senses. His leather jacket was draped over you. Glancing over at him, you saw him awake, staring out the window. You sat up, pulling the jacket off of you.

“Sleep well?” he asked, looking at you.

“Fine,” you replied. “For a chair.” You reached over and handed him the jacket. “Thanks."

“Any time.”

~~~

Your anxiety was growing with each second. Logan could sense it. But each time he tried to move closer to help you out, you moved away. That’s how you ended up sitting between Charles and Hank in the back seat while Logan drove and Erik sat in the passenger seat. The five of you hurried through the building once you arrived there. Flames flickered at your fingertips as you tried to calm down.

When you arrived at the meeting room, the blue woman you assumed was Raven was on the large table, aiming a gun at the smaller man in the corner. Your eyes moved, finding the still-conscious man on the ground near you. You stumbled back.

“Stryker," you gasped.

“Raven,” Erik called, causing Raven to pause and ignore what was going on with you.

Stryker smirked and quickly pulled out a contraption, shooting you with it. You screamed out as you began to be electrocuted. Logan roared, stepping forward as you writhed in pain. But suddenly, his mind grew hazy, and he stumbled back. Erik quickly took out Stryker and disarmed Raven. Logan’s breaths were coming short and desperate as he slid down the wall. The memories of what Stryker did to the two of you–his past, your future–played out in his mind. Logan couldn’t control it as his claws pushed through his knuckles. He could feel the tug to return to his own time, but he needed to fight. He needed to complete the mission. He needed to get to you. But for a moment, Logan’s 2023 conscience slipped away.

You stayed on the ground, the commotion around you becoming a blur as you whimpered in pain. Between both of you panicking, you and Logan missed Erik trying to kill Raven, and Raven escaped from the window.

“Where am I?" Logan panted, standing up.

“Huh?” Charles barely registered the question.

“How the hell did I get here?” 

“What? You came to us."

“Who are you?”

“Charles.” Logan gripped his shoulder tightly. “Charles Xavier!”

“I don’t know you.”

“Huh?” Hank, in his Beast form, stood up behind Charles.

“What the hell is that? And where's... Y/N? Where’s Y/N?"

“She’s over there.” 

As Logan rushed over to your side, Charles urged Hank to go stop Erik from hurting Raven.

“Y/N,” Logan pulled you into his arms.

“James?” you muttered.

Logan noticed Stryker unconscious beside you. “No. We need to get out of here.” He hoisted you up in his arms and glared at Charles. “Did you lead us here? To this trap?"

“What? No!" Charles exclaimed. “You're Logan, that's Y/N. I'm Charles Xavier. You spent the last couple of days with me and my friends.”

“Why?” Logan groaned as his head pounded. With a blink, Logan panted, and his 2023 consciousness was back. “Professor?”

“What happened to you?”

Logan looked down at you and then over at Stryker. He wanted to kill him, but he couldn't risk the timeline as much as he was already risking. “That man will cause a lot of pain to me and Y/N.”

“James,” you cried in his arms.

Logan tightened his grip around you and shushed you. “I've got you, sweetheart. You're safe now… I have you.” He quickly looked around. “Where’s Raven?"

“Gone."

“What?" Sirens began blaring in the distance, coming closer.

“We have to get out of here.”

Logan, still holding you tightly to his chest, followed Charles out of the building and through the panicking streets. The three of you met up with Hank and headed back to the airport. As soon as you were on the plane, you peeled yourself from Logan and curled up on a chair in the corner. 

“Y/N—"

“Don’t,” you rasped, trying to hold back the onslaught of emotions. You looked up at him, tears gathering in your eyes. “I… I don't even know what to say to you."

He sat down across from you. “I’m sorry—"

“Who are you?”

“You know who I am."

"No, I don't. We’ve barely known each other for a year, and I chose to run away with you with the promise that you'd protect me. But days ago, we woke up, and you weren't the same person. You’re talking weird—in the past tense. This mission isn't adding up. Then Stryker… we walked right into a trap. So, you are not my James. Who are you?”

“I... I can’t… I can’t tell you.”

"Then I'm gone as soon as this plane lands.”

“No, please." His hands grasped yours like his life depended on it. "Please, don’t leave. I’ll do anything.”

“Then tell me the truth.”

Logan sighed. “I am your James. This is his body, but my conscience… my conscience was sent back from fifty years in the future.”

“The future?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because a war is coming. A war that destroys the world... destroys my world. But I can stop it. Well, I thought I could.”

“I need something more. What you are saying could all be a lie."

Logan sighed, thinking of something that would get you to believe him. “The night you found out about your mutation. Your father killed your mother. He believed you and her were monsters. You killed him and—"

“Enough," you yanked your hands out of Logan's grip. “I believe you.”

“Are you… are you going to leave?"

You stayed quiet for a moment, studying his eyes. You knew that if you truly wanted to, Logan would let you walk away. But you could tell that it would break his heart. There was something he was still keeping from you, something that was his true motive for doing this. You weren’t going to pressure him, though. It was a secret he obviously held too close to his heart to share.

“I don’t know," you whispered. “I need some space.”

“Okay,” he nodded, standing up. “Just... let me know if you need anything.” 

You watched as Logan walked to the opposite side of the plane. His shoulders were slumped forward. He was sad, more sad than you had ever seen. It made you want to wrap him up and hold him close, but you couldn’t. Not when everything was so messed up right now.

~~~

Logan had never felt so anxious before. He didn't know what you would choose. To stay with him and give him a chance to make things right, or to walk away and possibly ruin any future with him. A part of him finally breathed when the plane landed, and you got into the car with the others. Logan could breathe a little bit more when you walked into the mansion with them.

Charles grunted, collapsing to his knees in the entryway of the mansion.

"What happened?” Logan asked, rushing to Charles' side with Hank.

“Come on,” Hank muttered, holding Charles up.

“Why can't he walk?" You asked.

“He needs his treatment," Hank responded.

“Hank, I can hear them," Charles complained in pain as Hank moved him to sit up against the wall.

“I know. It's okay."

“Can you make it stop?"

“I'll get them.” Hank rushed off.

Charles’ hands went to both sides of his head as he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a groan.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Logan said. "Pull yourself together."

“James!” You exclaimed.

“It's not over yet."

Panting, Charles opened his eyes and looked into Logan's. "You don't believe that," he retorted.

“How do you know that?”

“As these go,” Charles motioned to his legs. “This…” he touched the side of his head, "comes back. They all come back.”

“Look, I’m… I’m still here…” He glanced your way as you crouched next to Charles. “And she’s still out there. We need your help, Charles. Not like this. I need you. We can’t find Raven. Not without your powers.”

Hank's quick footsteps cut in as he joined you beside Charles. "I added a little extra because you missed a dose,” he stated.

Logan watched as Charles took the syringe. “Charles.” 

The man placed it against his arm and caught Logan’s gaze again. Then he looked to you. In the brief moments that Charles had regained his powers, he had seen you in Logan’s mind. The future you. Just glimpses. He could feel the love that Logan had for you. The respect and admiration and the fear that he may never see you again. With a huff, Charles set the syringe down.

“Uh, Hank, do me a favor,” Charles said, catching his breath. "Would you help me to my study, please?”

“Come on, I got you," Hank helped Charles up.

“I can help,” you offered, coming to his other side.

The three of you headed to the study with Logan following. Hank stopped at a chair near a closet, where you helped Charles into the chair. Hank opened the closet, revealing a wheelchair.

"Are you sure about this?” Hank asked.

“Absolutely not,” responded Charles.

You helped Charles get settled into the wheelchair. Logan and Hank quietly conversed behind you. Charles caught your chin, gently forcing you to look at him.

“You are the most important thing to him," Charles whispered. “He is doing this for you.” You inhaled sharply, taking in Charles' words. “Give him a chance… These may be his last moments with you. Let him have them, no matter what happens.”

“We should head downstairs,” Hank said before you could say anything to Charles.

Charles led the way, controlling his own wheelchair over to the elevator. Logan lingered behind you, wanting to make sure he knew where you were going so that you couldn't slip away without him knowing. You gasped when you arrived downstairs, where it was all sleek, silver metal. You followed Charles down the long hallway to the door at the very end.

“When was the last time you were down here?" asked Logan.

“The last time we went looking for students," Hank answered.

“A lifetime ago,” Charles corrected.

Charles stopped in front of the door. The hole in the door lit up, shining in Charles’ eyes.

“Welcome, Professor," an automated female voice greeted before the door slid open, revealing a large sphere room.

The four of you headed down the walkway to the end. Hank immediately began turning knobs on the control panel as you looked around.

“Raven’s wounds,” Hank stated. “She won't be moving fast.”

Charles picked up the helmet and blew the dust off of it. “These are muscles I haven't stretched in a long time,” he said before slipping the helmet off. He gasped as the room turned into a red-and-white map.

“Wow,” you gasped. "What is this?”

Charles gasped and groaned under the pressure of it all. As he started to scream, the dials on the control panel began exploding. Logan quickly covered you as pieces of glass went flying everywhere. 

“Charles!" Hank exclaimed as Charles tore off the helmet. “It’s all right. Are you all right?”

Logan gently grabbed your face, checking you over for injuries. “You hurt?” he asked.

“I’m fine, Jam—Logan. I’m fine," you replied.

His heart cracked a little. “Please, don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Call me Logan.”

“But everyone else—"

“There will be a time and a place for you to call me Logan. I’m still your James right now. Okay? I need to be your James."

“Okay.”

“I’ll go check the generator,” Hank said, pulling you and Logan from your own little world. He quickly left.

“It's not the machinery, is it?" Logan questioned.

“I can't do this,” Charles shook his head. “My mind—“

“Yes, you can.”

“No. It won't take it.”

“You’re just a little rusty."

“You don't understand. It's not a question of being rusty. I can flip the switches. I can turn the knobs. But my power comes from here." He pointed to his head. “It comes from…” His hand shook above his heart. "And it's broken. I feel like one of my students. Helpless.” Charles turned his wheelchair around and started heading back down the walkway. “It was a mistake coming down here. It was a mistake freeing Erik. This whole thing has been one bloody mistake. I’m sorry, Logan, but they sent back the wrong man."

“You're right.” Charles stopped. “I am. Actually, it was supposed to be you. But I was the only one who could physically make the trip. And, uh,” Logan glanced your way, “And I don’t know how long I've got here. But I do know that a long time ago—actually, a long time from now, I was your most helpless student.” Logan leaned down, gripping the armrests of the chair and getting in Charles' face. “And you unlocked my mind. You showed me what I was. You showed me what I could be. I don't know how to do that for you. You're right. I don't. But I know someone who might. Look into my mind.”

“You saw what I did to Cerebro. You don't want me inside your head."

“There's no damage you can do that hasn't already been done, trust me… Come on.” 

Charles placed his hands on either side of Logan's face while you waited with bated breath. Images of Logan’s life—his most painful moments and you, his happiest, filtered through. 

“You poor, poor man,” Charles gasped as your final death played before him.

“It wasn't all that bad,” Logan said, shooting you a smirk. "Look past me."

“No, I don't want your suffering. I don't want your future!"

“Look past my future. Look for your future… That’s it… That's it... That's it." 

You watched as a tear streamed down Charles' face as he concentrated harder. It took a few silent moments, but eventually, Charles pulled away from Logan. The lights in the hallway flickered on.

“Find what you were looking for?” Logan wondered, a knowing look on his face.

“The powers back on," Hank stated, coming back.

“Yes,” Charles said, looking at Logan, who gave him a small smile. "Yes, it is.”

Charles looked in Cerebro while Logan looked at you. You gave him a small smile, which instantly had Logan’s eyes lighting up. You knew that Logan had to finish this mission, and you'd be by his side until the end.

next chapter >

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Let's Be Jolly

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, drinking, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: You are on the hunt for the perfect present but the price is steeper than you expect.

Character: Sam Wilson

Day Twenty-Seven of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - who invited them to the holiday party?

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The cushion beside you jostles as something, rather someone, hits your elbow with theirs. You glance over at Sam as he stares across the room, a drink in both hands. He narrows his eyes as he continues to stare, you’d even say glare, at someone? 

“Who invited her?” He mutters. 

“Who?” You ask. 

“Did I say that out loud?” He winces and looks at you, offering a glass of the ‘festive punch’, “you’re right, it’s cranberry.” 

“Raspberry didn’t seem very festive,” you kid. 

“Well, maybe a bucket of merlot would be fitting.” 

“And just as strong,” you pull the glass away from your mouth, “wow.” 

“Zesty?” He asks and you nod emphatically. 

“So,” you swallow completely, “who was invited to your chagrin?” 

“My chagrin? Oh, uh, doesn’t matter,” he shrugs, his shoulders even wider on the couch as he crowds you in your corner. 

“Seems like it does,” you say, “but you don’t have to tell me.” 

“Hm, yeah. I guess... it shouldn’t matter, you know? It was a while ago. A long time actually.” He pauses and tastes the punch. “I shouldn’t care... ooh, you’re right about the punch.” 

“Strong but delicious,” you say, “nice party, huh?” 

“Sure,” he agrees, his eyes once more fixated across the room. 

You follow them and see a group of women. They're all very beautiful. They were dresses in varying shades of red, blue, and even gold. Very festive. 

“My ex,” he huffs. “Yeah, you know, got a few of those and somehow they always seem to find me.” 

“Oh... Oh! That’s awkward,” you giggle nervously. “Wish I could help you there. I don’t really have that problem.” 

“Ha, of course. You’re too sweet for that—shit,” he grimaces and you nearly spill your drink as he nudges you with his elbow. You switch hands as he grabs your other. “Play along. Please.” 

You barely process what’s happening as he clings to your hand. You look up as one of the women approaches with a preening smirk. She’s gorgeous. Her midnight blue dress is speckled with gemstones. The kind you would love to have if you had any sense of style. And her hair, gorgeous spiraled curls that swallow up the light. 

“Destiny, hey,” he clears his throat. “What’s goin’ on? Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Despite his previous displeasure, he sounds casual. He's always so cool and calm. It’s what makes him such a good friend. 

“Sammy,” she grins. “Nice to see you too. You look... rested.” 

You think she means more than she says. You’re not the best at reading between the lines. Sometimes, for the worse, you assume the best. 

“You too, Dee,” he stays reclined, unbothered. “So, just you and the girls?” 

“Sure, Emma always puts on a great party, doesn’t she?” she shimmies just a little with her purr. You fidget and slurp louder than you mean to. “Oh, excuse me, I’m sorry, hon. I don’t mean to ignore you. I’m Destiny.” 

“Destiny,” you perk up, “uh, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“You too, sweetie,” she drawls, “have fun with Sammy. He’s always a good time.” 

She winks and spins, strutting back to her group. You gulp awkwardly, the burn of alcohol nestling deep in your gut. You need to slow down. 

“That wasn’t weird at all,” he says. “Sorry about that. She always has to be so extra. She’s the one who ghosted me, you know? But she acts like I'm the problem.” He scoffs and tuts, swigging from his own glass. “Don’t even let her get to you. She wishes she was as sweet as you. She’s the devil.” 

You nod and rest your glass against your leg. You wiggle your fingers between his, “uh, Sam, my hand’s falling asleep.” 

“Uh, oh, yeah,” he looks down before he lets you go. “Forgot... thanks, er, for just playing it cool. Can’t imagine if I was here alone. Wouldn’t have to worry if Buck wasn’t such a damn sour puss.” 

“He’s not coming?” You wonder. You don’t often find one without the other. 

“Just me, sorry to disappoint,” he stretches his fingers and sits forward, drinking again, this time with a hunch. 

“I didn’t mean that,” you insist as you lean forward too. “I just thought... I dunno. I’m usually the third wheel, aren’t I?” 

“Nah, that would be Bucky,” he snorts. “You really think that?” 

“I guess, but it’s not like, that deep,” you shrug. “You’ve known each other so long.” 

“Well, it’s not his fault he’s ancient and not mine I’ve been cursed with him,” he snickers. “Tell you what,” he looks at you with a smirk. “Tonight, I’ll show you that you aren’t no third wheel, alright? We’re going to have a blast. Just you and me. You’ll see exactly what you are.” 

“Oh,” you smile, “sounds like a plan, uh...” you look at your drink, feeling its warmth in your cheeks already. “It would be hard not to have any fun with this stuff.” 

“Yep,” he licks his lips and raises his glass, “strong but too good to stop.” 

🎄

You haven’t been this drunk in... well, ever. You’re not much of a drinker. On the odd occasion, you’ll have glass, but nothing excessive. Until tonight. 

The party buzzes around you; music, voices, lights. It all smears together as a dull pain sinks in behind the glaze in your vision. You need some water. Your stomach is too full of alcohol and salty finger foods. 

You look around. The bowl of punch is about empty and the cooler’s open as most of the contents have been picked clean. At least you aren’t the only one above their limit. You stagger around dizzily as you search for anything to dilute your haze. 

You clutch your drained glass down as you enter the kitchen. Where’s that girl Emma? She’s the host, right? You don’t want to just dig through her fridge without asking first. Ugh, but your stomach feels so...sloshy. 

You go to the tap and rinse out the used cup. You fill it with tap water. You take a small sip and slowly swallow. The tepidness doesn’t do much to sooth your insides. 

“Hey,” Sam’s voice startles you. You flinch so hard you splash your dress with the water. You put the glass down and face him, shaking off the droplets. “Sorry, did I do that?” 

“Hm, oh, I’m a bit... tipsy... I think,” you murmur groggily. “I shouldn’t have had so much.” 

“It’s alright, everyone’s lit,” he crosses the kitchen without even a sway. Well, he’s probably got a much higher tolerance. 

“Right, uh... I’m just not...” you clamp your lips shut before you can burp. You breathe it out your nose and gulp. “...used to it.” 

“That’s fine, baby, I’ll take care of you,” he closes in as you lean against the counter. “You wanna hold my arm? You can lean on me.” 

“I just need... a minute,” you wave him off. 

You close your eyes and frame your face with your hands. You try to sort through the fuzziness and the fire in your chest. Was it three or four drinks? More than that? You weren’t counting, Sam just kept bringing you more. 

“I think... I think I need to go home,” you exhale and force your eyes open. “Oh!” 

You flinch as you find Sam right in front of you, crowding you. You blink as his hand frightens you. He pets the side of your head as you gape at him in confusion. 

“What are you doing?” You rasp. 

“Shh, baby, I told you, I'll take care of you.” 

You lean your head into his hand without thinking. You grip the counter tight, your body heavy from alcohol and fatigue. You fight the droop in your eyelids and the yawn twitching in your cheeks. You just want to lay down. 

“You okay, baby?” He brushes your cheek with his thumb. 

Baby? Why does he keep calling you that? You giggle. It’s such a strange thing to say. 

“You’re drunk. So drunk,” he says. 

You hiccup and nod, “I am,” your voice bubbles in your throat. “So are you!” 

He grins and tilts his head, “not really.” 

“Sure, you must be... you had as much as me.” 

His eyes narrow, “did I?” 

Did he? 

You can’t remember. It doesn’t really matter now. You’re not doing to well. Your legs shake and threaten to collapse as you hold yourself up against the counter. Before you can give in to the weakness, he scoops you up and sits you on the granite. You let out a squeak of surprise. 

“Sam!” You squeal. 

“Baby,” he drags his hands away from your hips and down your thighs. You feel your dress rise above your knees as he nudges your legs apart. “You okay? Spinning?” 

Your head bobbles as lines squiggle in your vision, “a lil...” 

“Sure you are,” he growls. “Warm and soft...” 

He hooks his thumbs under the hem of your skirt and lifts it up your thighs. You squeak again and grab at the fabric. “Sam, what are you doing?” 

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he tugs your skirt free of your resistance. “Just relax for me,” 

“I’m-- no—what?” You garble as you give a long blink. “Sam, my head.” 

“I know, baby, close your eyes,” he coos. 

“Mm, I’m too... tired,” you grumble as your lashes shut against your volition. “Sammmm...” the last consonant drags. 

“That’s it, baby, be good for me,” his warm hand cradles your skull as you tilt back. He lays you across the granite so your head hangs off the opposite edge. “I’m gonna show you... you’re not a third wheel, are you?” 

You drone mindlessly as even behind your eyelids, the world spins around you. You feel like you’re moving yet paralysed all at once. You spread your fingers wide and press your palms to the cold countertops.  

The cool air grazes your thighs and hot tickle crawls up the front of your panties. Your head lolls as you fight the dizziness. Stay awake. Awake! 

Your eyes snap open and you fight to lift your head. The warmth between your folds draws your eyes down to Sam as he reaches between your legs. His dark eyes are fixated on your pelvis, below your skirt where you can’t see. He rubs you firmly as the sensation creeps down your legs and up your spine. 

You slur but can’t speak. Your eyes roll back and your head drops down again. You tense against the granite as he continues to tease you. You waver on the edge of consciousness as his fingertips dance on your nerves. 

You’re swept up in the flurry of fire coiling around you. Your feet arch and you push your shoulders down. Your breath fills your ears as you puff and pant, your voice trickling out weakly. 

“Oh, baby, that’s it,” Sam purrs as you feel something dip into you. It isn’t until he’s wiggle two fingers deep inside you that you realise what’s happening. He groans and praises you, “you take me so good. So tight. That’s it, relax. Let Sam take care of you.” 

He rocks his hand, pressing against your clit as he does. The tension clusters there, roiling and speckling beneath your skin. You moan and mewl, writhing as your feet kick against the cupboards. 

“Fuck, baby, you got me hurting,” he pulls his fingers out slowly and wipes them down your thigh. He flutters along your skin and gives a pinch. “So fucking sexy, you know that?” 

He once more grips your hips and slides you down the counter. Your head comes flat over the surface and your lashes part, giving a glimpse of the kitchen lights as they ring in your drunken vision. He balances you on the edge and shifts between your legs. 

You force your eyes wide and turn your head. You stare at the door to the front room. In that moment, the glaze of alcohol breaks and you hear and see everything so clearly. The voices competing with the music, the clink of glasses and shuffle of footsteps. The trim of the doorway and the flawless white paint. 

The dull pain that splits you drowns your lungs with a shriek. Sam smothers it in his hand as he keeps going, pushing his tip past the seal of your resistance. He hushes you as he rocks gently, urging further and further into you. 

You shake as you fight to raise your head. You look at him as tears form on the brims of your eyes. He has a hand splayed over your pelvis as he invades you inch after inch. You warble into his palm as he bites his lip and ignore your pain. 

He sighs as he impales you to his limit and well past yours. You arch your back and curl your toes as you try to ease the pressure. You beg him with pitiful whimpers against his hand. 

He slides back, staring at his length as he does, then pushes back in. You clench and grasp his wrist, your guts tightening. His hand pushes up your skirt as it trails up to your stomach then along the front of your dress. 

He shoves your head down to suppress your rising voice. He keeps you trapped there as his hand blocks out your sobs. His other hand delves under the vee of your dress and he fondles your chest. You snivel and flick your eyes back to the vacant ceiling. You close them as you try to hide from this distorted reality. 

Sam pumps into you, groaning and grunting as his pace builds. Faster, harder, until your flesh claps loud enough to be heard against the drone from just the other side of the wall. You shudder as that fact feeds your futility. Here you are, just feet away from help, and you can do nothing. 

“Yes, baby, that’s it,” Sam moves his hand beneath your head, lifting you slightly off the counter, and his other curling under your ass as he buries himself deeper. “Be a good girl for me. Let everyone hear how much you want me? Huh? Let that bitch know she’s can’t compare to you, baby.” 

[yanderederee]

Library Kisses

a/n:I really wanted to write this idea with Baji in mind but I’ve rewrote it four different times and each time it comes out not good and the only person I can picture is Mikey so I’m giving into the Mikey brain rot okay?

now~ … part2 … part3 … part4 … part5

Manjiro Sano NEVER came to school, even more rarely class. If he did even bother to show up, it was usually to hang out on the roof for some cool air, or in the vending area for a nice nap with snacks nearby. No one could tell him where he needed to be, after all. And if they pushed too hard and annoyed him, he’d just leave.

That suddenly changed after he lost a serious bet with Emma and Shinichiro. The consequence? Attend all classes for Two Weeks.

Two weeks felt like forever, he admitted. The first day didn’t seem like it would be so bad, until he started actually paying attention to the teacher.

God, he thought. What a drag.

(Shikamaru—-?)

Manjiro was so far behind in studies, he had no idea half of what was being taught. So, before he let his temper rise, he simply stopped paying attention again.

This quickly became a problem.

Nothing interesting to keep his attention on, Mikey found himself falling into boredom. Irritation was bubbling yet again. Of corse, Mikey never brought anything with him. No paper, pencil, books, it was a random chance of luck that Emma was even able to find his school bag.

So with literally nothing to keep his attention, he started getting antsy. How long until this dumb lecture was over anyway? He glanced at the clock.

HOW IN THE HELL HAD ONLY 20 MINUTES PASSED?

He was absolutely flabbergasted. No way in Hell would he be able to handle this torture. Screw the bet, Emma and Shin could eat dirt for all Manjiro cared.

Yet…

“…sss…” whispered a tiny sound.

Manjiro would have ignored it had he not been eager for something to get his attention. He shifted his gaze to the direction of the whisper: the cute classmate who sat beside him.

You.

Before he could wonder what or why you were trying to interact with him, he noticed you holding something out to him.

‘..the hell?’ He looked down at what you were gripping in your hands.

It was a notebook. A very basic and boring one, had you not doodled little flowers and vines into the cover.

Cute.

Accompanied with the notebook was both a pencil and pen, both neatly held tight to the notebook.

Mikey looked up to gander at your eyes, which looked rather worried, brows knitted together with a soft considerate smile. You made the effort of motioning to the gifts once more, before he unconsciously took it without much thought.

You seemed to be very pleased by his acceptance, your expression shifted to relief, then a friendly thumbs up before letting your focus run back to the instructor.

‘Why did i even take the book?’ Well, either way it would serve as a doodle book of his own, if nothing else. The pen and pencil both roll off the notebook cover when he opened to examine its contents.

Gibberish, is all Mikey saw. Pure, number coded gibberish. To the average student, it would have looked like neatly worded mathematic notes, color coded and plenty. If he’d looked further, he’d find notes related to other subjects as well. But he really didn’t feel like it.

Thankfully, to keep his interest, a small little notecard was stuck as a bookmark.

Mikey glanced your direction again, amused when he noticed you were doing the exact same thing, but unlike him, when you accidentally made eye contact, you immediately break it to unsubtly pretend to have your attention up front again.

He grinned. You were cute.

Without his left hand never leaving his pocket, he managed to open the notebook with only his right hand, fingers nimbly spreading the book open to the bookmarked section.

He noticed some familiar words on this page. Matter of fact, a lot of the words written down on this section of pages were word for word what was being vocally spoken, when he took a second to listen.

Again shifting his attention, he noticed your handwriting on the bookmark, as well.

“I hope this helps! I don’t see you in class often, so I thought you could use these. Don’t worry about returning them, you can keep them if you want.

If you need help catching up, I’m apart of the tutoring program the school offers!

My name is Y/n L/n, I hope we can get along:)”

That’s all you wrote.

He starred intently at your handwriting for sometime. It was a hell of a lot more legible when what he could do, and while you used rather simple kanji, it still took him a minute to register them. He really Has been gone from school a while.

Manjiro found himself smiling without permission. It was kind of touching, the kindness of a stranger who genuinely looks out for others without gain.

For the sake of your kindness, Mikey did attempt to follow the lesson one more time, with the notes at his ready.

Unfortunately, he still didn’t really get what was going on. What even subject were they talking about? Social studies, geographics, English literature? He gave an exasperated, loud groan before slumping back in his seat. He found himself falling back into irritation.

Trying to calm himself for the third time this class period, he noticed the same soft whisper that caught his attention the first time. Quicker to respond this time, Manjiro lugged his head towards your direction again. He felt his smile wanting to surface again when he was met with your worried expression once more.

You seemed to want to say something, but obviously were worried about the consequences. So, immediately after meeting eyes, you gave a “wait a sec” kind of gesture, and started scribbling on a similarly decorated notecard. He waited for you patiently, unable to do much else anyway.

Soon, you began reaching your hand out to give him the notecard. However, Manjiro wanted more than your written attention. So, before you could react or slip the note on his desk, he reached out to take the note from your hand. He didn’t just reach out to take the note however, purposefully, he outstretched his delicate looking fingers a little further, and trailed his finger tips along the back of your hand. Slowly he offered a very gentle squeeze before his hand pulled back, finger tips trailing a path from your wrist to your nail beds.

The touch was brief, but accidentally intimate. So much so that your breath hitched from the unexpected action. No one seemed to notice. Manjiro did, but no one else. Probably.

This all but lit a fit of flames in his gut, a giddy feeling irrupting before he could even read the note. Eagerly, he scanned the card.

“Don’t let the material get you down! You can catch up in no time. Hang in there!”

This time, your handwriting was a little more messy, quicker. Still, it was cute, he thought.

Giving up on the lecture entirely at this point, he finally let go of his bored sitting stance, and retreated his left hand from his pocket to maneuver the notebook and two note cards on his desk. Grabing the pencil you’d also lent him, he began to scribble something under your handwriting of the second notecard.

“Thanks”

Is all he wrote. Honestly, he got nervous halfway through writing, and gave up after he finished only the single word. Nerves slowly got to him when he noticed a pair of eyes peering at him secretly. Your gaze felt like burning on his skin when he thought about it for too long. Ignoring your gaze this time, he knew you had the upper hand when his peripheral sight caught your big smile.

…

Once the bell had rang for break, all the students seemed to jump up to leave. Manjiro was still doodling in the back of your notebook. You were packing your things neatly as you usually do, glancing at the delinquent next to you. Finishing up a few last strokes, Manjiro lazily held the book up for your appraisal.

Doodled rather… poorly, was his name, and ‘Tokyo Manji Gang’ in different fonts… as well the face of the Doriyaki mascot. (?)

You didn’t seem to hide your amusement, openly giggling at the childish doodles and gave a thumbs up. He liked that. Manjiro grinned at your approval and shut the book, resting his head to look at you with a new intensity.

“Y/n, right?” He asked. You nodded, not seeming too phased by his intentionally intense aura.

“Nice to officially meet you, Manjiro.” You greeted back with a chirp. He blinked at you a little wide before letting out a quiet laugh. “Isn’t it normal to use someone’s surname when addressing them for the first time?” He asked. No, he never minded it. Of corse not.

The middle schooler was used to many names.

Boss.

Captain.

The Invincible Mikey

Mikey.

But the only ones with the privilege to call him by his given name: Manjiro. We’re limited to his only siblings.

. . . .

And apparently, you too.

It was amusing. No stranger DARED utter his given name, out of fear of disrespecting the great Mikey….. yet here you were.

God, he loved the way his name sounded, coming from you.

Manjiro.

He didn’t even realize how smitten by it he was. Not until he realized you were starting at him inquisitively.

Shit, what did you say? He forgot entirely.

…

The following few weeks consisted of Manjiro Sano following you around, more or less.

Out of everything school had to offer, he swears up and down that the only thing that caught his interest was you.

It was a well known fact that Manjiro Sano was a delinquent. Big Boss of Toman. Dangerous beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Mikey never acted in public how he normally would around the founding toman, it wasn’t known how childish and goofy he was.

Manjiro don’t too much trusting. Too many mistakes. He found himself treading lightly, yet he couldn’t back-peddle from wanting your attention.

He monitored you closely for the past week. He took note of your reactions, your ideals, how you treated others. He wrote down your favorite manga, silly irrational fears.

It didn’t take him long to realize how others treated you either.

People walked all over you, yet you didn’t bat an eye about it. It’d be really annoying if you did things for people just so people would like you. People definitely saw you as a pushover.

You rolled with the punches, so to speak. Any vile attitude aimed at you seemed to go unnoticed, as you maintained composure effortlessly. You never gave anyone a reason to bad mouth you either way, but snarky remarks about being a pushover did become a class commodity. It was easy to pick on the one who never fought back.

Yet Manjiro knew it wasn’t out of kindness or seeking compensation for your good deeds.

“Why’d you stop to help that guy pick up his lunch? He was cleaning the mess up just fine, you didn’t need to help him.” Mikey pouted, originally irritated because you broke from his side to do this task.

You finished washing your hands, drying them on the dry cloth Manjiro held out to you. Replying with a shrug, “Why not? He looked like he could use the help. If he didn’t want it he could tell me to buzz off, but it doesn’t hurt to offer some help.”

Manjiro rolled his eyes. “Might not hurt, but it’s inconvenient as hell,” he mumbled. You gave him a stern look, raising an eyebrow. “Inconvenient how? Were you gatta be so urgently?” You joked, confusing your classmate further.

You laughed, and patted him on the shoulder. “Think about it, if you were havin’ a bad day and dropped your stuff, you’d be pretty pissed off right? Even if it’s one little act, things like that help get you through the day,”

“Nothing wrong with trying to make the world a little bit of a nicer place.”

That’s when Manjiro Sano’s knew you were his darling.

You were so soft with him, and he loved that about you. He loved when you beamed at him with pride for whatever academic achievement he mastered…

You were different.

You were perfect- Manjiro declared.

Three weeks finally pass, and Mikey hadn’t missed a single day of school. Maybe a skipped class or two, but he always showed up on his sweet babu, if not to tease you and pick up the notes you made him before snacking on the roof.

Mikey has been holding back ever since that day. Keeping his darker impulses at bay time and time and time again.

He held back every time you got too close, and your clothes brushed up against his more than a casual encounter.

He held back every time you looked him dead in the eye, asking him if he was okay.

He held back when the little pinch of pain in his chest made him want to croak out the truth: Not really…

Mikey held back the tears, the words and feelings he suddenly felt so comfortable expressing.

Because it was you who asked.

Each and every time he held back from making you his darling. He wanted you to hold him so desperately. For you to fill that empty space he’s always had.

A part of Mikey knew that if you found out just how much he loved you, you would start to fear him.

You too would start walking on eggshells around him, run away after high school and abandon him.

…Or you would bend to his command one day, and he hated the thought of it.

He hated thinking about your trapped form, scared to speak the wrong thing.

He hated thinking he could make you into that person.

Ha hated the thought of you hating him.

…he didn’t want you to have that choice.

…

And there you were, listening to him whine.

“Come’onnnn Y/ncchin!~ it’s so boring hereeee,”

You glance down to your left, seeing your classmate’s practice packet still blank. “Well, if you can answer those for me I’ll take you out for Taiyaki; my treat.”

He loved you so much. You always knew how to motivate him.

However, he already knew you would treat him to taiyaki, even if he didn’t get the answers right, or if he even did them at all.

“Buuu~ not this time Y/nchiin! Bribe denied.” He huffed, anticipating your reply.

You matched his huff, crossing your arms. He loved the way you looked when you pouted.

“Maybe I’ll just stop tutoring you then!” You threatened weakly.

“No chance, you want me to graduate so bad.” Mikey snorted a laugh.

“No more leftover bento bits,” you warned testingly.

“You’d never let poor little me starve…” he batted his eyelashes.

“…”

He grinned with triumph.

“Fine, what will it take for you to try to pass ONE class?”

“Mm~” Mikey hummed, glancing over the material to appraise it.

If Manjiro were honest, he could get rather good grades, actually. With repetition, and your good habits, he was actually learning really quickly. But he couldn’t let you know that. He liked when you babied him through some things, just to impress you beyond comprehension moments later.

The praise…

Oh, Mikey thought. That’s it. He wants your praise. He wants you to tell him how awesome he was, how cool and dashing he could be, how smart he was. How much you loved him-

“How bout if I can ace this whole packet, you have to grant me one favor?”

The deal went just as you would have thought it would. He feigned having trouble on the packet of questions, so not to seem overly suspicious.

Yet true to his plan, you now owed him one favor.

“Fine, what favor do you want from me?” You chuckled while rolling your eyes.

Your first line of thought went to,

‘make me homemade taiyaki!’

‘let me cheat on the final!’

‘wax my CB250 !’

… not, “stay still, unless you really don’t want to.”

His voice was a whisper, and you’re immediately caught with your guard down.

Manjiro gently weaves his left hand under your hair. He tilts your head slightly, enough so he could achieve his goal, any resistance on your end being considered with mindful touches. He wouldn’t push you past your comfort. He couldn’t stand if you looked at him with fear in your eyes, too.

Your breath hitches, giving way to wind the excitement his actions gifted you.

Your breath continues to be shaky, yet obeying his favor, you sat still.

Both of you took a few seconds to get your racing hearts back under control.

It was futile, but the nerves to act finally snapped after Mikey and your eyes’ caught each others. The mirrored look of excitement was all Manjiro could stand. The accepting bat of your eyelashes.

Manjiro Sano didn’t hold back this time.

Still gentle, Manjiro quickly closed the gap between your awaiting kiss.

Seconds pass. Two very soft sighs can be heard.

Followed by Manjiro’s lip clicking sweetly against yours when the kiss naturally deepened.

This was heaven.

The feeling of you so close, so accepting, so gentle to him.

Mikey wanted to caress you into a deep hold, may so that the heat and desperate banging against his chest would finally feel heard. He wanted to feel your heartbeat pulse against his lips.

Manjiro Sano wanted to be gentle.

But he couldn’t help how his muscles tensed and grabbed you harder. How could he, when you just let out the cutest fucking moan. The craving of your submission suddenly became more appealing, Mikey felt himself coming to life again.

He pushed your lips deeper, the force of his grip and encouragement to mimic his lead allow the kiss to deepen once more to something more recognized as making out.

He couldn’t stop. You were losing breath, and he could feel you try to initiate a pause, but damnit, he couldn’t stop.

It started getting hard to breathe without gasping for air, but your whines and accidental moans were damning you more than you realize.

Manjiro. Couldn’t. Stop.

Again, he pushed the kiss so you had no other choice than to breathe your cute noises into his waiting mouth, tongue darting for a taste.

He couldn’t stop himself from pulling you closer into his embrace, making it so you were standing on one foot while your other knee rested just between his thighs.

Fuuuck, he thought. You’re so warm, all of you. But warmest of all, was the heat you were generating with friction and arousal. All he had to do was hike his knee up just a little. Just a little bit. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the animal he would become after hearing what your siren like moans would turn him into.

So finally, Manjiro held back.

He pulled back, panting without much issue. Assessing your face, your eyes… your lips.

Your lips were just barely swollen, rubbed into a pretty red tint (with his help).

A thin, barely noticeable line of spit lay unattended, from his unfortunate retreat.

He wiped it gingerly, looking back into your eyes with a hooded gaze.

“A…are you.. sure?” You softly croaked out.

“About what..?” Manjiro whispered back.

“I dont… like joking about these types of things…” you continue, face becoming redder. “S-so if you’re messing around, I’ll get mad…” you warned, again, weakly.

You were so soft with him.

“And what if I’m not messing around?” Mikey asks you point blank, his intense stare once again peering into your very soul.

There’s a short moment of silence.

And suddenly, it’s your turn to gently brush against his also swollen lips. Rather than a kiss, it felt more like a binding.

Manjiro Sano vowed to you that very moment. And this was a seal of your acceptance.

That was all he could ever ask for.