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kittyymew · 3 years ago

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Accidental Surprise

Story Summary- Levi walks in on you pleasuring yourself. You, the Reader, and Levi are not a couple in this scenario, however, both of you like each other romantically without each other's knowledge.

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You groan as you enter your room after a long stressful day, plopping down on your bed. You were tired, annoyed, angry, and frustrated. Hell! Why wouldn't you be? Another failed mission, and the worst part of it all? You were blamed for the unforeseeable factor which caused the mission to fail. Well, at least there wasn't a single casualty. A rare occurrence.

"Urgh fucking great! Of course, it's my fault! I mean yeah I controlled the titans who made us break our formation!" You let out in an exasperated tone, sitting up on your bed as you start undressing out of that stupid, uncomfortable uniform, tossing it all in a corner.

""Y/N! WhAt aRe yOu dOiNg WhY aRe tHeRe sO mAny tItAns? WhY DiDn'T YoU TeLL uS thErE aRe gOinG To Be sO mAnY aBnoRmALs iN oUr wAy?!"", you mock Levi's words as you get up from your bed and make your way over to the closet to get a change of clothes. He's been like this, blaming you for the most irrelevant things, ever since you were assigned a squad leader yourself. You tried ignoring his condescending remarks, illogical arguments, and wrongfully placed blames in the beginning but it's getting more and more unbearable with every mission you go on.

"Um... I don't know... MAYBE THE FACT THAT THERE WAS NO WAY I WOULD'VE KNOWN!" You yell out in the empty room.

"I can not believe I used to like-like him. Who am I kidding? I still like that stupid ass head! URRRGH WHY DID I HAD TO HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM OUT OF ALL PEOPLE?!", you shriek out in an irritated tone, opening your closet door with such force that a box tumbles down from the top shelf, spilling its contents on the ground.

You sigh, closing your eyes and massaging your temples in an attempt to calm yourself down. You glance down at the box that had just tumbled out of your closet, seeing a pair of cuffs and a collar that had fallen out of the box. "Oop," you think as you realize it was your sex-toy box that had fallen out of your closet.

"Oh... I forgot I even had these things..." You mumble, bending down to pick up the items and the box, making your way back to your bed and emptying all the contents on the mattress. The collars, handcuffs, vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, ropes, etc. You had bought most of these items when you were with your ex.

Amidst the breakup and you gaining more responsibilities in the scouts, it's been a little over a year since you've used any of the items inside the box. Hell, you barely have any time to pleasure yourself with your fingers, let alone have sex with someone or have the luxury of using all these toys on yourself.

You pick up the pretty pink coloured wand-type vibrator, pressing down on the power button, the vibrator buzzing to life. You didn't think it was even charged. Well, at least you hadn't ran out of luck... yet. You turn it back off, biting down on your bottom lip, contemplating whether you should use it on yourself right now or not.

You quickly get up and get rid of your panties, climbing back on your bed as you crawl to the center, propping the pillows against the headboard, turning around and leaning back on it, spreading your legs.

Your mind automatically travels back to the one person you've liked for so long. As creepy or weird as it may feel, you can't help it. How his lips might feel against yours, or his hand wrapped around your throat, his fingers tangled in your hair tugging on it, or how his fingers would feel inside you... or even better his d-

*SIGH*

Taking a deep breath to relax, you trail your fingertips down your chest, stopping at your nipples to gently squeeze and tug on them.

"Maybe this is how his fingers would feel..."

You bite back a small moan at the sensation, it's been a while since the (Y/N/C) buds received any attention.

You take your sweet time to rile yourself up, switching between squeezing your boobs and pinching and tugging on your nipples. Your mind clouding up with all kinds of inappropriate thoughts and you can already feel the heat pooling between your legs by just stimulating your nipples and by the thoughts of how Levi would fuck you...

You keep your left hand on your left boob and trail your right hand down until your fingers touch slick folds, your fingers rubbing up and down, spreading your arousal. A small, almost inaudible whimper falls off your lips as your fingers finally connect with your throbbing clit.

In the blink of an eye, your fingers are moving in a circular motion over your clit, applying just enough pressure to have you squirming and moaning. It's been so long, even the slightest touch has you going crazy.

You begrudgingly disconnect your fingers with your clit, just for a few moments until your fingers were replaced with the head of your wand vibrator, your other hand spreading your folds as you press down the vibrating head against your clit. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as pleasure spreads through your body like wildfire.

"O-oh... fuuck..."

You moan out as you apply more pressure, moving the vibrator up and down your clit slightly, the movement combined with the intense vibration causing your toes to curl and your eyes to roll at the back of your head in pleasure.

Sliding your fingers down towards your entrance, you push a finger inside your wet cunt that slides in with ease, and curl it upwards in a come hither motion, with your walls clenching around your finger as the tip rubs against your g-spot and the vibrator's sweet assault on your clit, it doesn't take long to feel the knot in your lower stomach tighten.

Throwing your head back in pleasure, small moans and whimpers fall off your lips, quickly adding in another finger inside, plunging them as deep as they can go, the tips rubbing against that sweet spot inside your tight pussy, as you draw your orgasm closer and closer with each thrust and movement of your fingers against your g-spot, combined with the intense vibration against your swollen clit.

"Fuck fuck fuck... oh... god... L-Leviii fuck...!"

You scream out in pleasure, applying more pressure on your clit with the vibrator, your fingers halting their thrusting movement as your cunt clenches around them, your lower stomach fluttering, your toes curling and back arching, as the euphoric sensation takes over your mind and body.

Pulling your fingers out of your throbbing pussy and turning the vibrator off, you try to catch your breath, still coming down from the high of the orgasm you just had.

"I- uh... *ahem*..." Your head snaps up towards the direction of the door, the moment you heard someone clear their throat, and there he stood in your doorway, in all his red-faced glory, your soul leaving your body when you see his face.

It takes a moment for your brain to register, but you snap out of it when you see Levi take the tiniest step forward.

"FUCKING SHIT! LEVI WHAT THE HELL?!"

You yell as you jump up to cover yourself with the blanket and hastily trying to hide the multiple sex toys that were splattered all over your bed.

"I- uh...." Levi opens and closes his mouth, failing to realise that he's gawking at your naked figure. He averts his gaze only after you pull the blanket up to your chest and awkwardly try to hide his hard-on. He quickly turns around, his mind finally processes the situation, but not before you catch a glimpse of his situation down there.

"I just... came here to apologise for how I had been acting towards you over the past few weeks Y/N," Levi says, trying to make everything less.. awkward?

You just stare at the back of his head. You're way too embarrassed to even breathe at this point. How long was he standing there? How the hell did you not hear him come in? How did you even forget to lock the door before your genius self decided to masturbate?

Levi breaks the silence when you don't say anything. "Y/N...? I'm sorry the door was open and I-..."

"How long were you standing there for?" You ask.

You'd much rather die of a heart attack or something at this moment instead of having to face him. It'd be much easier than having to go through this.

"A while I guess...." He replies, scratching the back of his head.

*bonk*

You throw the first thing that you could reach. It was a purple dildo.

"Hey, Ow!" He mumbles, rubbing the spot where the dildo just hit him.

"AND YOU JUST STOOD THERE WATCHING ME INSTEAD OF LEAVING OR AT LEAST SAYING SOMETHING?!?!" You yell at him, throwing a pillow at his head this time.

"Well, you did moan my name brat!" Levi sasses in response when the pillow hits him.

"Stop throwing things at me brat!" Levi says, turning around on his feet to face you with a glare until he catches the sight of the purple dildo lying near his feet. He bends down to pick it up and smirks at you.

"Or I can just remind you whose name you were just moaning..." He says as he dangles your purple dildo in front of him

"LEVI!" You yell at him again, moving forward and attacking him by throwing everything that is within range at him.

"OKAY SORRY! SORRY!!!" Levi laughs as he dodges everything that's plunged in his direction and he's on the bed in front of you, holding your wrists down.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the close proximity between the two of you and you freeze up.

"I never said I was complaining about it. If anything it's nice to know that you think of me when you touch yourself. Because it just means that I wouldn't have to worry about you liking me back when I ask you out tomorrow" Levi says, letting go of your wrists and booping your nose with his stupid cocky grin before turning around and leaving your room.

"What just... happened..."

You think to yourself as you're left alone in your room, dumbfounded, to say the least.

#levi x you #levi oneshot #levi aot #levi ackerman imagine #levi attack on titan #levi smut #levi x reader #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman #levi heichou #levi x y/n #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot oneshots #aot smut #aot levi

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quillsanddaydreams · 4 years ago

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false promises

sirius black x reader

—author’s note: this idea was something that came to me before writing a paper and it just struck with me since. Sirius and you have a long history you can never get over. What happens when you finally get an opportunity to leave it all behind?

—warning(s): breakup and angst. gender neutral!reader (pronouns aren’t used).

—word count: 1,702

The sky was quickly turning black as you watched the streets the bus passed through. Today had been a whirlwind of emotions you weren’t sure you could contain. You had looked through old photographs, happy faces smiling back at you. They seem to make you feel worse, although you knew you had to do what you had planned for the day. Rip the band aid. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out and walked into the restaurant.

Your gaze immediately went over to him, his smile lighting up the room. Sirius. No other name could do him justice. James had an arm around him, enthusiastically telling the company something. Remus noticed you first. He gave a huge grin, waving at you. Forcing yourself to smile back at him, you made your way over to the table.

“Aha there you are!” James exclaimed, his eyes twinkling. “And here we thought you wouldn’t show up to a meeting you called.”

You rolled your eyes playfully while your heart constricted. Delaying worked only for so long. Sitting down beside Remus, you flipped open the menu avoiding everyone’s eyes. Especially the grey ones. He could always read you like an open book.

“So, did you all find anything interesting?” you said, scanning the menu like you had done a hundred times before. The group hummed in response.

Calling in the waitress, you gave your orders. You wondered whether any of them would continue some small talk, holding a glass of water to your lips. How were you even supposed to tell them? Sirius nudged you with his feet, making you look up at him. He raised his eyebrows wordlessly questioning you whether you were alright. Nodding carefully, you tried your best to hold your emotions in. Quiet followed, you could hear the cutlery being kept and people around your table chatting. It was as if everyone was anticipating a shoe to drop. Black spoke first.

“I know you like treating us and all,” he started as others leaned in. “But what’s the occasion for today? You’ve been so secretive about it; you didn’t even tell me.”

Your throat felt dry even though you just had some water. All of a sudden you felt as if you were exposed. Mulling over your next words, you pushed your nails into the palm of your hand. A habit you picked up as a child.

“I got a huge job offer, more of a promotion to be honest,” you began, watching their reactions. “The salary is quite something and the experience would step me up to a much higher position.”

“Whoa, that is so amazing” James said with widened eyes, cutting you off. Remus nodded along.

“And the way you were acting, we were afraid you were going to deliver a death sentence or something.”

“That is so great, congratulations!”

“It’s in Japan,” you whispered but no one seemed to hear you.

“You’ve been working so hard everyday—“

“We have to get ice-cream later!”

“It’s in japan!” you shouted, making the table fall silent again. Remus bit his lip, searching your face as Sirius just stared.

“It’s a five-year program,” you continued. “I talked to my boss and she told me this was a brilliant opportunity and that I should definitely pack up my bags.”

“You seriously aren’t considering to take up on that, are you?” James asked. Your jaw felt heavy. The silence must have been an enough answer, because no one dared to speak. Remus cleared his throat.

“Is this what you want?” he hushed as you felt tears prick your eyes. It wasn’t what you wanted; it was what you needed. You sneaked a glance at Sirius, who was still looking at you, dumbfounded.

You nodded slowly. James fidgeted.

“So this is your way of saying goodbye?” James remarked, a tad bit agitatedly.

“James—”

“Don’t James me!” he said, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re talented. I know that, you know that. You can do without this program. And it’s in Japan for goodness’ sake! It’s miles away. Miles! Going there for five whole years means not looking back.”

“There are ways to communicate,” you said, your voice small. Even you didn’t believe that. James sat back, his arms folded.

“I hate you so much right now,” Remus said, picking at his napkin. You put your hand over his, squeezing slightly. He sighed. Sirius got up all of a sudden. You flinched. He turned to the group giving a random excuse about some work and left the table. Looking down at your hands, you heard the restaurant door close with a thud. Tears fell down your cheeks and you furiously wiped them off.

The rest of the dinner went in a strange calm. It was obvious to both James and Remus that you were just as much hurt as them. James gave you a small smile and helped brighten the mood at the table. Remus reassured you ever so often. You were grateful.

-♡♡♡-

Sirius didn’t contact you after that night. He was angry. Angry at you, angry for what you planned for yourself. It hurt you, more than you could care to admit. This playing around on your tip toes had been going for far too long. You knew your breakup with Sirius had been mutual, for both your goods but you didn’t have it in you to sit back and watch him fall into arms of people that weren’t you. Not anymore. Not when you still loved him. And you knew Sirius did too, it was how he still went out of his way to make you smile, how he loathed every single person you dated after him unable to realise that none of them could compare to him. None of them could compare to how he made you feel.

It left you to wonder at times whether the breakup was really the right decision. You reminded yourself that it was whenever the thought came up. Both of you wanted different things. Sirius never wanted to settle down and you did. After months of fighting and waiting for the other to give in to the other or come to a compromise, you realised it wasn’t going to work. You sighed. What were you doing reminiscing either way?

You checked all your bags and papers before putting on the coat ready to face the inevitable. Driving to the edge of the lake, you stopped and walked into the old abandoned warehouse. The grey walls didn’t seem haunting anymore, but inviting like an old friend. You smiled seeing a similar figure standing over the old table watching the ceiling.

“How did you find me?” he whispered, not sparing you a glance.

“I just felt the stench of complete and utter disappointment in me and followed it,” you jested but sobered seeing the look on Sirius’s face. You moved towards him slowly, gently placing a hand on his cheek cradling his face.

“Hey,” you whispered. He looked at you, his dark eyes making you lose yourself in them. “Don’t do this Sirius. You know I wouldn’t be able to leave you like this.”

“Then don’t leave,” he said simply. “I know you’re not doing it for yourself. You’re just running away.”

“You’re running away from me,” he hushed. You felt your mouth go dry. So he did know. There was no use beating about the bush, Sirius hated when people twisted up words.

“Well I am.”

“Why?”

“Why? You know why,” you pleaded. “Sirius I’ve been in love with you since I was a child. A child. We’ve been best friends all my life. Then we dated for five whole years. And now we don’t. I can’t be your ex and your friend simultaneously anymore, it’s been torture. Do you know how it feels knowing we’ll never be the same anymore? Just how much it hurts?”

“Do you think I feel good about it?” Sirius raised his voice, frustration from all those months pouring in. “Do you think I feel good about never being able to hold you close and see other men and women do it?”

“So maybe the job will do good to both of us,” you said after a beat.

“I did not say that—”

“Sirius—”

“No I didn’t. I’ll do anything for you. Give me another chance, just don’t go away,” Sirius said and you felt helpless. Sirius took your hands, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Tears pricked your eyes. You could remember all the time you spent with him together. Riding his bike to the sunset, singing and dancing nonsensically to songs, him kissing you softly telling you he loved you. The memories flashed before your eyes like a film reel. You could barely see anything through the salty tears welling up.

“That wouldn’t do justice to either of us,” you said after some time, your voice barely audible. “Some things aren’t meant to be. We’ll fight again Sirius, we’ll be angry at each other and we’ll end up hating each other more every day. And I won’t be able to live with myself knowing I spoiled the best relationship I ever had.”

Sirius gulped, breaking into sobs.

“Damn you,” he croaked. “Damn you for going away. Damn you for making me lose you all over again. As if it wasn’t painful enough the first time.”

You laughed through snuffles and squeezed his hand.

“You’ll never lose me. You’ll never get rid of me even if you tried—” you stopped as Sirius crashed his lips into yours, kissing you urgently. You pulled him closer by his shirt, as one of his hands went at your waist and the other held your face. Pulling away in a daze you sniffed and Sirius buried his face in your neck hugging you. Time seemed to pass by as neither of you pulled away.

“I guess I really can’t make you stay, can I?” he said as you shook your head, wrapping your arms around his body. “I’ll miss you. And I’ll show up at your door myself if you don’t answer my letters. Promise me you’ll keep in touch.”

You pulled back, wiping his face with your fingers.

“I promise.”

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

#sirius black #sirius #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x you #sirius black x y/n #the marauders #james potter #remus lupin #from anu's quill

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

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Through Hoods, Through Lace, Through Hearts--We'll Find Our Healing PT.1

Jason Todd x Reader Story (Arkhamverse)

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I started playing Arkham Knight again and got inspired. Who woulda thought?? Enjoy! -Thorne

Gotham wasn’t exactly safe since Batman—or Bruce Wayne—had died. All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it used to be now that Red Hood had moved in and started tackling the criminals Batman had left behind—permanently. Killer Moth had been the first and Roman Sionis was the second to go, and while Red Hood hadn’t outright claimed it, the leftover crew that hadn’t been pumped full of lead, had said that they saw the vigilante leaving, so it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. And it didn’t stop there.

Red Hood had started in on Penguin’s gang too. Now that Batman wasn’t around to stop the weapons and drug smuggling, it’d given the infamous gang leader a free ticket into Gotham. There were some reports about the neighboring vigilante Nightwing coming over from Blüdhaven to stop him. Rumor had it that someone said they even saw him and the Red Hood working together at one point, but it didn’t seem all to believable as the latter didn’t seem to be the partnering type.

That being said, with no one to stop him from killing all the criminals he wanted, a lot of the small-time fish got out of the business, not wanting to be met at the end of Red Hood’s handguns—it’s the exact reason she got out of the game. The money was good, and she was a damn good thief, but no amount of payout was worth her life. But somehow, trouble always managed to find her again.

***

Her file might’ve gotten deleted from GCPD’s database, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take the easy way down the street and risk an officer recognizing her. She stuck to the back alleys like usual, ignoring the catcalls and sleazy comments about her outfit, but still keeping her brass knuckles around her hand—could never be too careful in Gotham.

Working an honest job sucked in her opinion, and the only thing more humiliating than working at Super-Babes was the number of tips she was getting at the end of her shift. Maybe if she smiled and flirted a bit more, they’d give her a tenner instead of a fiver. She’d half a mind to shove that five down the asshole’s throat after he ran his hand up the back of her thigh, but she was lucky that Tony had been working the kitchen shift—watching him throw the guy out on his ass was payment enough.

Even if she was managing to scrape by, working a restaurant job was kicking her ass, and something deep inside her itched for one more heist, but with the Red Hood stalking the city, there was no way in hell that she was going to risk it. The man had a reputation for leaving bodies and shell cases, and she wasn’t going to be the former. No, she was working towards a better future, getting back on track, and even if she was waitress, she was doing a lot better than most of the old crew. Most of them had either joined up with Black Mask, in hindsight, a horrible error on their part, or gotten thrown back into lockup. She was lucky—she got out during the recovery of Gotham after the whole Scarecrow and Arkham Knight deal. But that didn’t stop them from sending her the occasional request of her skills. All they received was a big ‘fuck no and fuck you’.

“(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N). Finally tracked you down.” Speak of the devil.

“Alex,” she sighed heavily as she turned halfway, catching sight of her old partner—and old flame, but that wasn’t important. “Figured you would at some point.” Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

Alex chuckled and leaned against the wall. “No need to be so touchy. I just wanted to talk.”

(Y/N) shook her head and hiked her purse higher onto her shoulder, fingers tightening around the brass knuckles in her pocket.

“If it’s not about my next shift at Super-Babes, I don’t give a rat’s ass what it is,” she countered, glaring at him.

“That’s where you’ve been working?” he questioned, but his tone gave way to the knowingness in his gaze. “Really?”

“Not like there’s anywhere else for ex-thieves to apply, Alex,” (Y/N) grumbled. “Employers are pretty meticulous when it comes to criminal records.”

“I’m not.”

She glowered at him. “I’m not interested in whatever you want me to do for you.”

“Even if you’ll get paid?” he suggested.

“I can’t believe I’m going to ask,” she sighed, eyes narrowing at the grin that split across his face. “What are you doing?”

Alex pulled out a file and walked up to her. “I knew you couldn’t resist a big payout.”

“Fuck you,” she grunted, swiping the manilla folder from him. “Shine a light for me.”

He pulled out his phone and flicked his flashlight on, watching as she read the papers, occasionally flipping the sheets.

All at once, she paused and gaped at him. “Wayne Manor?” She blinked. “You wanna `excavate Wayne Manor?”

Alex nodded and turned the flashlight off, stowing the phone back into his pocket. “Good plan, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) breathed in shock and lowered the folder. “Are you insane?”

“I’m failing to see your issue with this.”

“You want to excavate the home of a dead man. You really can’t see the issue with it?”

“That he’s dead?” Alex offered. “Technically that’s not graverobbing. He’s been dead for like a year and a half.”

(Y/N) turned and took a step. “That’s not the issue Alex!” She spun back around and hissed, “Bruce Wayne was Batman.”

“Keyword was. Not anymore.”

“I don’t give a shit. If Bruce Wayne was Batman, then there’s a very strong chance that there’s still defenses laid around the grounds.”

“In that pile of rubble? Not likely, but that’s why I need you to help me.”

“No,” (Y/N) declared. “I’m not going anywhere near that place.”

Alex let out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. “And why not? You never really liked Batman. Didn’t he put you in jail once or twice?”

“Bruce Wayne was a good man that did his best to help this city whether he was dressed as Batman or not.” She affirmed. “He saved people, gave them jobs, helped them turn their lives around. No,” she shook her head. “I don’t want any part of this job, Alex. Now, later, or forever. I’m trying to do better, and you should too.”

Alex scoffed. “Oh please, getting tips for dressing like slutty Wonder Woman isn’t doing better (Y/N), and you know it.”

She ignored the insult and shrugged. “Maybe not, but I go to sleep at night knowing that I’m not going to get shot by Red Hood or some greedy gangbanger.”

At that, Alex paused and stared at her. “Are you really afraid of that prick?”

(Y/N) scowled. “That pricktook out Black Mask and his entire operation within twenty-four hoursthen immediately turned his attention on the rest of the scumbags in this city.” Taking a step towards him, she added, “He doesn’t break bones and leave you lying in pain like Batman did, Alex. He makes sure you don’t get up again. Ever. I’m not risking my neck for anything that’s stuck in Wayne’s basement.”

The man across from her was silent for a moment, then sighed. “I can’t sway you in any way?”

She yanked her hand out of her jacket pocket and flashed the knuckles around her hand. “I’d stop swaying and start running instead.”

Alex opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was, “Oh fuck!” then he spun around and hauled off like his ass was on fire.

(Y/N) stood there dumbfounded. Sure, she could be intimidating, but there was no way she was that scary. Instead of questioning it, she shrugged and shoved the folder into her skirt, then turned sharply on her heel to start on her way back to her apartment. Until she walked straight into someone’s chest.

She gasped as she stumbled backwards, knowing she was going to fall on her ass when strong hands grasped her upper arms, keeping her upright. (Y/N) looked up and met the very man she’d been talking about. Suddenly, Alex’s explicative and escape made perfect sense.

“Oh fuck!” she blurted out, and impulsively swung her knuckled fist at the jaw of his helmet. He caught her hand with an ease and spun her around, pressing her front up against the brick wall.

“Fuck me. Oh, fuck me,” she hissed, cursing herself for not telling Alex to stick it where the sun didn’t shine the second he found her. Now here she was about to get murdered by a trigger-happy vigilante with a grudge.

“Really? Right here? But someone could see us?” The humor in his tone drew a startled laugh from her and she pressed her cheek against the wall, so she could see him.

“I swear to God I don’t have anything to do with him. Fuck, I’ll tell you whatever you want about him and his plan if you don’t kill me.” (Y/N) sucked in a breath. “Please don’t kill me. I swear I stopped pulling heists after Halloween last year. I work a decent job. I keep my nose clean. I don’t get involved in that shit anymore. Please, God, don’t—”

“Will you stop talking for like ten seconds?” Red Hood griped, one hand leaving the grasp he had on her arms behind her back to feel around her middle.

“HEY!” she shouted, thrashing wildly. “GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”

He pressed her harder to the wall. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you get your fucking hands out of my skirt your fucking pervert!” (Y/N) spat, leaning on one leg to kick at him with the other.

“All I want is what’s in your skirt,” he sighed and pressed one of his thighs against the one kicking him. “Christ,you’re a handful.”

“And you’re a fucking sicko!” she retorted indignantly. “Is this how you get your rocks off? Assaulting innocent women? You’re so fucking disgu—”

“Got it,” Red Hood declared, and yanked out the file she’d shoved in the side of her skirt. (Y/N) fell silent when he held it beside her head. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

She could tell he was smirking behind the red helmet and she scowled at him. “You’re fucked up, buddy.”

Shrugging, he flipped open the file and started reading. “Would’ve been easier if you hadn’t tried to run on me.”

“Well excuse me for thinking I was about to get murdered and having the initial instinct to haul ass.”

Red Hood chuckled at that, and despite how wrong the entire situation was, the low drawl made shivers go down her spine.

“Wanna tell me about your friend?” he coaxed and (Y/N) froze.

“He’s not my friend,” she suddenly protested. “I haven’t been around Alex since last year.”

“Really? You two seem fairly chummy.”

(Y/N) craned her neck to look at him. “We used to fuck when we worked together.”

“Mhm,” he hummed knowingly. “Lover’s spat then?”

Barking a laugh, she countered, “Like you wouldn’t believe.” She stared at him. “I got out when you started putting people down. Didn’t want to be a casualty.”

“That’ll do it,” he snickered. “So, you don’t know what Alex’s been up to since last year?”

“No, and I want it to stay that way, but he thinks that if he waves enough heists in my face, I’ll cave and run back to the money.” (Y/N) groaned and rested her head against the wall. “Look, I don’t know what he’s planning, and I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with whatever that plan it. Honest to God.”

She gazed at him, feeling something akin to tears gathering in her vision, and pled, “Take the file. Hell, take all the money I’ve got in my purse if you want, just don’t kill me.” A single tear ran down her cheek. “Please, I’m begging you. I don’t wanna die now.”

Red Hood’s weight disappeared from her back and he murmured, “I’m not going to hurt you. I want the opposite in fact.” The honesty in his words made her body feel weak and her knees started to go out beneath her. “And there she goes.” He caught her before she fell.

Gently lowering her to the ground, he helped her sit against the wall. (Y/N) leaned her head back and let out a long sigh.

“Oh, thank God.”

He laughed. “Life flashing before your eyes?”

She gave a half-hearted smile. “You’ve got no idea.”

This time when he laughed, it was dark, and it made her stomach churn. “Actually, I do.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, then he knelt in front of her, handing her purse back to her.

“Here.”

(Y/N) took it with a nod and stared at him. “So, what happens now?”

He was quiet for a moment, then he waved the file. “I go stop your friends from digging around Batman’s home.”

“Good luck,” she replied, starting to her feet when he tutted.

“Ah-ah-ah.” He motioned for her to sit back down. “We’re not done yet.”

She grunted at him. “What do you want?”

“Information on your friends.”

(Y/N) felt her brows furrow. “Can’t you find that out yourself?”

Red Hood shrugged. “I could, but I’m always looking to make my job easier.” He observed her for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of hundred-dollar bills.

Waving it in front of her, he said, “You tell me what you used to do for them and what all they’ve got going on, and you can have this.”

(Y/N)’s jaw went tight as she stared at the roll. That could pay rent and bills for at least two months. She needed the money. Her eyes darted to the mask and she swiped for the roll, but he raised it out of her reach.

“Nope,” he ribbed. “Info first.”

“Ass,” she grumbled, but conceded with a sigh. “Fine. Have it your way.” (Y/N) clambered to her feet and dusted off her tacky skirt, watching as he did the same.

“Follow me to my apartment.” Before he could say a word, she thrust a finger into his chest. “And do it from the rooftops so people don’t see you.” Her face set in a glare. “I don’t need any unwanted guests trying to get in because they saw you following me.”

She started off when Red Hood grabbed her forearm, not harshly, but firm enough to make her stop and stare at him questioningly.

“What’s your name?”

She blinked, not expecting that. “It’s (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”

He nodded. “And what did they call you when you worked as a thief?”

(Y/N) huffed. “Not everyone has an alias, Red Hood.”

Chuckling, he retorted, “Yeah, but someone as pretty as you no doubt had one.”

She felt her stomach flutter at his flirt and her cheeks warmed as she looked away and replied, “They used to call me, ‘The Lady in Lace’.”

“The Lady in Lace?” he repeated, then stood next to her and pulled out a grappling gun. “Have a matching outfit, Lady Lace?”

(Y/N) shoved him in the side. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I think I’d rather see,” Red Hood flirted and pressed the button, shooting off towards the roof of the building.

It was gonna be a long night.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x reader imagines #red hood x reader imagine #dc comics #dc imagine #dc imagines #batman arkham knight #arkham knight #arkhamverse

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l4verq · 4 years ago

Text

remnants (2)

ransom drysdale x reader

in which you have to protect ransom drysdale because he has the same face as steve rogers, your ex who’s gone back to peggy

pairing : ransom x reader

warnings : angst? mentions of guns

if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk in the comments💗

ʀᴇᴍɴᴀɴᴛꜱ

*not my gif*

ransom doesn’t remember the last time he was this dumbfounded.

his hands graze over the grainy picture of a andy barber who looks just like him.

down to the very mole on his left cheek, every feature seems to fit perfectly with his.

“we believe, these are all alternate versions of you,”sam glances at ransom, biting into a stale piece of bread, “steve, to be more precise.”

“so what? I’m a clone?” he huffs, cringing at his own words.

yoi look up from your plate and realise he’s looking at you for an answer.

“we don’t know but we do know they’re not from this timeline.” you pick at the canned beans with your fork.

you never really had an appetite on days like these.

“who? them?” he raises the stack of papers.

you nod, placing your fork down.

“thet all popped out of nowhere when everyone else came back after the blip. no one’s heard of them before.” bucky explains, picking up your fork and handing it back to you.

you grimace, glancing at the goopy mess on your plate.

“and what do you mean, timeline?” ransom questions, observing you and bucky.

you guys were close, that was evident enough from the way he’s been trying to get you to eat something.

but just how close were y-

“we don’t know.” sam gruffs, his throat parched from the dry, flaky bread.

ransom rolls his eyes, “what do you know?”

“that the only way you’re not going to end up like them is by staying with us.” bucky gestures towards the papers with his fork.

ransom slouches back in his chair, horrified at the thought of being in this dump for any longer.

he had to sleep on the couch, if you could call it one, last night and he’s pretty sure he saw some rats scurry by while washing his face earlier today.

and did he mention the clothes? he’s in a horribly mismatched shirt and sweatpants that feels like gravel on his skin.

his stomach growls but he’d rather starve than eat that soupy thing infront of him.

“it’s only for a few days, weeks at most. because of the blip, hydra’s suffered, they’re outresourced. the problem is, we are too.” you offer a sympathetic smile.

you kind of felt bad for him.

he sighs, “can we go shopping or something for clothes and food. actual edible food?”

“what can you get with,” sam dramatically digs into his pockets, pulling out a single bill, “five bucks?”

of course, he’d be stranded with three strangers, only five bucks to their names.

“aren’t the avengers supposed to be loaded?” ransom asks in disbelief.

“not everyone has a wealthy grandpa.”

“hey, what’s up?” sam walks in, a little too breezily.

you narrow your eyes as he awkwardly shifts around, looking for a place to sit.

the floor is covered with files and documents, you’d been rummaging around, searching for other safehouses set up by shield years ago.

“let me guess, you want to ask me how I’m doing?” you sigh, flipping over another file report from years ago.

he has a sheepish smile on his face as he picks up a file and starts flipping through.

“we’ve been at this for months now and this is the first time we’ve ever met one of them.” he trails off, hesitantly.

“and?”

he looks at you, raising his eyebrows.

you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes cause you hate to see the pity in them. hate that he knows you’re still hurting.

“just let us know if it gets too much.” he says, softly.

the stupid lump forms in your throat again and you busy yourself, picking up another file.

you flip to the first page, instantly recognising the familiar scrawlings.

cause you were used to seeing those on little notes Steve used to leave you.

you vaguely remember this mission, it was a grueling week of staying undercover as the new siblings in town until shield gave a green light on pursuing the subjects.

you’d never laughed so hard than when your new neighbour had caught you two making out, revolted by the act of incest she thought she’d just witnessed.

a gunshot outside alerts you, breaking your thoughts.

“relax, bucky’s teaching him how to use a gun.” sam chuckles, eyes still trained on the file.

“a gun? why?”

“precautionary measures.”

you furrow your brows, “for what?”

he shuts the file, giving you a look.

you realise why.

“no, he’s not coming with us. are you crazy?” you end up yelling.

joaquin had tipped you guys off about a run-down, abandoned hydra base that would hopefully answer some questions.

and there was no way you were letting them bring Ransom there.

“listen, if we leave him here, there’s no saying what might happen so we don’t have a choice.” he sighs, trying to reason.

“well, one of us can stay here, babysit him.”

he scoffs, “really? who?”

you hate to admit it but he was right.

ransom couldn’t stay here alone and no one would agree to staying behind to miss out on the action.

“well, I’ll go help.” you grit your teeth, storming out of the room.

a second shot goes off as you push the front door, greeted by the bright rays of the sun.

bucky’s passing the gun onto ransom who looks hesitant.

you know he’s never held one by the way his hand grips around it, a little too tight.

he aims at a can placed infront shakily, his posture awkwardly stiff.

you can’t help but walk over, holding out your hand.

he hands you the gun, muzzled pointed right at his legs.

you swiftly grab it, “first thing, don’t point this thing anywhere unless you want to shoot.”

bucky cocks his head in amuse.

you always flunked on training the new recruits back in shield and yet here you were, voluntarily helping ransom.

“your right hand, grip this here,” you guide ransom’s hand along the back strap, “your left hand, under it. Support it.”

he looks over at you, seemingly for approval.

and suddenly, you can’t breathe.

the familiarity of this catching you offguard yet again.

but it had been you in ransom’s place and steve in yours.

“it’s gonna be pretty loud.” you clear your throat, fixing his stance slightly.

a hesitant pull of the trigger, completely missing the can.

he scratches his head, adorning a sheepish smile which shouldn’t feel as endearing.

“wow, you’re really bad at this.” bucky exhales, earning a side eye from you.

“can’t I just hold a pepper spray or something?”

your eyes fall on the bag of transceivers, that you guys’d been heavily relying on these past couple of months.

however, beyond a minute they’d track you instantly. so every call made was timed under a minute.

“you know, you can call your family if you want.” you mumble, loading the car with boxes of tech sam needs lying around or else he swears red wing will “go hungry”.

he’s sitting in the passenger seat, legs out on the ground, hands in his pockets.

you bite back a passive agressive remark about how he could be helping you right now.

“no, that’s fine.” he mutters, an unreadable expression on his face.

based on the information you’d dug up on him, you knew their family wasn’t exactly close.

but if their son was being hunted down by crazed psychos hell bent on bringing chaos to the world, they surely had the right to know.

“our phones are untraceable, it’s safe if you keep it under a minute.” you reach out to grab one.

“s’okay, they won’t care.” he gruffs, shrugging his shoulders.

you breathe out an “oh”, internally smacking yourself for insisting.

an awkward silence follows as you resume loading the last box, shutting the trunk.

“who’s ready for a roadtrip?” sam gleams, palms raised.

you wrinkle your nose at the familiar smell of kerosene.

“do you guys have to do this everytime?” you roll your eyes, backing away from the scent.

ransom’s about to ask what when the house explodes up in flames right in front of him.

“what the fuck?” he jumps out of his seat, frantic eyes racing around.

but the fire stops as soon as it began, leaving a scorched framework of bricks and rubble behind.

“can’t find anything if you have nowhere to search.” bucky rattles an empty jar labelled corrosive.

san fist bumps him, smirking.

ransom’s starting to think you might be the sanest out of the three.

and that was saying a lot.

a/n : 🤨🧎🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️ i need to stop cringing everytime i post smthing lol

tags : @readermia @inmate-marmalade @stephdavies95 @randomsevans @xoxabs88xox @thebadassbitchqueen @tcc-gizmachine @mypalbuck @natrushman3000

#ransom x reader #ransom x you #ransom x y/n #ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey #hugh drysdale #chris evans #knives out #ransom fanfiction #fanfic #remnants

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onceuponamirror · 4 years ago

Text

ghosts

Faintly, Nancy can hear the waves crashing into the shoreline down the road. A buoy rings against the water. She takes a breath. “So…you don’t regret not leaving?”

“Do you?” He counters, as if knowing she wasn’t just talking about him anymore.

[set between 2x05-2x06] [read on ao3!]

“What’re you thinking about?”

Nancy turns to look over her shoulder, surprised to see Ace standing there, hands in the pockets of his puffer. He has a smile emerging from the corner of his mouth, which broadens slightly after a moment. “You look super serious. Am I interrupting something heavy?”

“What? No,” she says, clearing her thoughts, and echoes his grin. “I just thinking about…ghosts.”

“Ghosts,” Ace repeats, and drops into the seat beside her. She’s sitting on the table, whereas he’s planted on the bench, and yet they’re still at eye-level.

She blows out a breath and shakes her head slightly. “Yeah, ghosts. With everything happening so fast last month, I feel like…I didn’t fully process…” She pauses, and waves her hands for exaggeration, “Ghosts. They’re real.”

He furrows his brow, as if waiting for her to continue, or to finish her thought.

Nancy falls back on her palms, glancing up briefly at the darkened sky. “It’s just—I’m supposed to be this…Hero of Horseshoe Bay, or whatever they want to call me in the papers. I don’t really care about that but—solving mysteries is the only thing I’ve been good at, and…”

Ace passes her a slightly mischievous smile. “Is this about me coming for your title? I’m a ‘Hero’ too.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps his shoulder with her own. “No, it’s…I make logical leaps. That’s all it is. How can you make logical leaps with supernatural stuff?”

“Ah,” Ace says.

“If ghosts are real, what else is? And what won’t I be able to solve because I didn’t think to consider…Bigfoot, or something? I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this when the rules of physics don’t apply.”

“Nancy,” Ace says slowly, “all due respect, but that’s super dumb. You’ve already solved like, three ghosts mysteries by now.” She opens her mouth with mock offense, but he just grins at her, and she’s unable to stop herself from matching it again. “You’re good at this. Dead or undead. Besides—people always say stuff about physics as if it just relates to gravity. It’s a lot more flexible than that.”

She cocks her neck. “What do you mean?”

Ace shrugs. “Like, I went down a Wikipedia rabbit hole one night. A lot of physics is about theorizing about other dimensions and energy, and matter. Like—there’s that rule, that matter can neither be created nor destroyed. I think it’s mostly about decay or whatever, like how when we die we go back to the ground, but maybe there’s another part, like with our soul, that sticks around. Who’s to say that doesn’t encompass ghosts?”

Nancy just stares at him, dumbfounded. When she first met Ace, he’d struck her as a quiet slacker; another fellow high school burnout. It’s almost upsetting how much she’d misjudged him. “How the hell do you know that?”

As if slightly embarrassed, Ace ducks his face down, but she can still see his smile. He shrugs again. “Like I said, I love a good Wikipedia black hole. Which, coincidentally, has a great article on black holes.” They meet each other’s eyes, and Nancy feels something sputter against her chest, suddenly deeply aware of their proximity. She wonders if he feels it too, because he clears his throat. “Anyway, I don’t sleep super well. So it gives me a lot of time to collect increasingly random knowledge.” He taps his temple. “It’s a steel trap of trivia.”

She raises her eyebrows, still taking him in. He never seems to stop surprising her. “How did we not know each other in high school? You would’ve been super helpful on some of my earlier cases, you know.”

“I thought you worked alone then,” he says, somewhat teasingly, but like he’s avoiding her question. After a moment, he sighs. “I knew you, you just didn’t know me. We actually had art together, I think.”

“No way,” she says at once, before she can think on it. “I would’ve noticed you.”

It’s his turn for his eyebrows to jump on his forehead. Her neck flushes hotly, but mercifully, he looks away from her. “Nah. I was barely there. I was kind of a big stoner in high school.”

“I’m shocked,” she says dully, and he laughs. At the sound, her chest tightens again.

“I know. It really plays against type,” he counters, smirking.

She laughs, and a silence falls over them gently. She’s still surprised they had a class together and she didn’t even know him—even if they didn’t run in the same circles, he was still Ace. If she wracks her brain, she has a vague memory of a skinny kid in a backwards baseball cap and an oversized plaid shirt, but it’s hard to reckon that with the long-haired, soft-eyed, much more muscled boy who sits beside her.

When her thoughts finally return to the present, she finds him watching her. She turns slowly to face him, breath catching against her chest. Her eyes dart down to his mouth, and he does the same. Anxiously, she pushes her hair behind her ears, unwilling to let this moment last. This is Ace. Get it together.

“What?” He asks, his tone something low and velvety.

She laces her fingers together and tips her chin up, wistfully watching a faint star. “What are you still doing here?” She asks, and he meets her eye again, confused this time. “I mean, you’re smart. You never wanted to get out of Horseshoe Bay? Go to college?”

Ace leans back on his elbows. “Nah,” he says, but something in his voice betrays his attempt at casualness. “I didn’t have the grades, even if I wanted to.” Nancy purses her lips, not sure she believes him. He shifts uncomfortably, like he can tell. “Pothead,” he adds, impishly. “I took a couple of classes at the community college, but…I dunno, I got bored. I’ve had pretty much every job in town, at this point. Never really held anything down, ‘til now.”

“Yeah?” She asks, breathily.

“Worked on a lobster fishing boat for a summer. That was really hard,” he supplies, and Nancy wonders if that was the cause of his transformation from skinny kid in art class to the surprisingly toned boy beside her. “Worked at the video store, until they went out of business. Worked at the library for a bit. That didn’t work out, for obvious reasons.”

“Obviously,” she echoes, grinning at him. He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Last year I even worked at the yacht club,” he adds, glancing away from her. “That’s where I met Laura Tandy.”

At the mention of his ex, Nancy straightens. She tries not to put too much thought into the strange reaction her body has, deciding instead to dig at the larger thought that still nags. “Do you ever wish you’d gone with her? To Paris, I mean. Had adventures…left Maine?”

“Nance, I’m pretty sure adventure isn’t geography-specific at this point,” he sighs, throwing her a knowing look. There’s a slight thrill at him calling her ‘Nance’, and she tries to push it down. “But no,” he sighs. “My dad…I still think he needs me. He keeps trying to go back to work, as if he doesn’t remember why he left in the first place. Someone has to remind him.”

A soft hum escapes from the back of her throat. Privately, she thinks there’s something loaded there, something buried. A lie to himself, maybe. From her observation, Ace and his father are very much alike, but she doesn’t think he’d want to hear that.

Faintly, Nancy can hear the waves crashing into the shoreline down the road. A buoy rings against the water. She takes a breath. “So…you don’t regret not leaving?”

“Do you?” He counters, as if knowing she wasn’t just talking about him anymore. She levels him with a warning look, but he doesn’t back down, just piques an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” she says, honestly. “Right now, no.” She bumps him with her shoulder again. “Look at us. A couple of townie burnouts.”

He grins. “Somebody’s gotta do it.”

Another blanket of silence settles between them, but gentle this time. Again, the waves lap against the shore.

“I still can’t believe I didn’t know you,” she says quietly, perhaps not meaning to say it aloud. Somewhere along the way, he became such a fixture. But she supposes that goes for all of her friends—she was so different in high school. She’s not sure she’s someone she would’ve liked now. She realizes Ace is looking at her again. “I just mean, it’s such a small town. Like, I don’t even know your last name,” she adds.

He still hasn’t budged, soft smile and all. “Oh, it’s—”

“Yo! Lazy Drew! Are we gonna Boggle or what?” George’s voice floats across The Claw’s back deck, and they both turn around to see her at the back exit, her hands on her hips, lit warmly from behind. “Ace, you said you were gonna go get her and come right back.”

“My bad,” he says, getting to his feet. He offers her his hand down, even though it’s barely a jump to the ground. She takes it anyway, but it hits her with a shock of static so strong that she drops it like a hot potato. His eyes are anywhere but on her.

“Game night waits for no man,” George says drolly, holding the door open for them.

“Fine, fine,” she mutters, passing through the doorway. She spins around and points at George. “Tonight, we Boggle, but tomorrow—trivia night. Teams.”

“I’m game,” Ace pips up, as George only rolls her eyes and nods as she struts past them, towards the booth where Bess and Nick wait.

“Tomorrow, you’re on my team, Mr. Steel Trap,” Nancy whispers to him, leaning in conspiratorially. His body heat warms against her skin, even through her light sweater.

His smile is soft. “Any time.”

#nace #nancy drew #ace [hardy]#nancy drew cw #drabbles #fics #i am emo for these two #pls validate me and leave me a review #i forgot how thirsty i am for them #ty

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anjuschiffer · 4 years ago

Text

The Fabric Roll Of Fate

So this has been sitting in my WIPs since October of last year... Finally had the time to finish it up! More like I couldn’t sleep so I finally worked on it

Hope you enjoy it!

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Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo (welcome to the permanent taglist!)

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It was one of those random family outings, one of those moments that Damian was reluctantly dragged to

He just wanted to stay home and train for the upcoming fencing tournament in his school, one of the few things that Damian looked forward to in the school year

Yet here he was, being held captive and listening to Garyson talk for the umpteenth time about his daughter’s latest adventure

Finding an opening, Damian slips off, walking through alleyways to escape his family, eventually arriving to the fashion district of Gotham

He decides to enter the first store he sees, seeing as his hands were starting to get cold

He hated Gotham’s chilly and cold seasons. Spring was his favorite season.

As he ventures inside the store, he starts to look at the fabric inside, now wondering why fashion designers were so picky with their fabrics

It was when he saw two identical rolls of fabric that he decided to investigate for his answer

As he runs his hands across two white fabrics (linen and velvet), he notices the slight differences, not noticing that he was starting to mumble his observations

It was then that his hand bumps into someone else’s Damian turning to see a girl his age.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you!” She quickly apologizes. “You were probably in your zone and-”

“I was simply looking at them. You didn’t interrupt anything.”

Damian watches as the girl relaxes and smiles at him.

“I see. Well, if you need any help, I’d be happy to help! Is there a certain reason you’re-”

“I was thinking of hiring someone to make me a suit for an upcoming event-” Damian attempted to lie (although he technically didn’t as his family was looking for one...not like he was going to tell them about the one he just found), taken aback when the girl looked at him with twinkling eyes. What was going on

“A suit? So I’m guessing a tux, but if you want something to make you standout- but I think you don’t want that, huh?” She begins to look him up and down, quickly mumbling some numbers to herself. “Black or any dark color would suit you, but having emerald accents-no! Gold accents would suit you better.” Damian remains silent as she circles him, not once placing a hand on him. “Shawl collars, traditional or modern could work. Definitely single breast, maybe tail-oh god no. No tails.” Damian watched as her eyes filled with happiness. “A cumberbund would definitely suit you. That’s where I can place the gold!”

Damian kept listening as the girl kept listing ideas to herself, watching with awe as she kept the ideas coming, eventually snapping out of his trance when she presented him a card.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to make that suit. Of course! The decision is yours if you’d allow me to make it.” He watches as the girl points to a phone number and email address in rose gold. “Give me a call, text or email if you decide to accept my offer. See ya!”

Damian is left dumbfounded as he watches her go and pick some fabric rolls, purchase them and then leave.

“What just happened?”

Damian looks at the all black card in his hand. On one side was the phone number and email. On the other, the letters M D C were on the card, a single line going through the three letters. Simple, yet elegant.

Damian ends up accepting the offer, setting to meet the girl that Friday afternoon after his classes.

When his family attempts to tag along, he tells them no, setting on going alone.

“Welcome to my humble home.” She greets him after picking him up (she insisted despite Damian saying he had his own mode of transport) at the rendezvous and then to her flat. He was faced with one of Gotham’s most expensive penthouses, Damian wondering who exactly was this girl who can afford one of his father’s expensive hotels.

“Do you...live by yourself?”

“Yup! Although my uncle- oh! How can I forget?” The girl says, closing the door behind her. “Sorry for the late introduction! My name’s Marinette. The one behind the upcoming brand MDC. I’m currently here for a commission. Although, by the looks of it, I might end up staying here in Gotham.”

He’s heard of her, the decade’s youngest designer in the fashion world, or so he’s heard.

“Now, let’s start with getting your measurements, shall we?”

One visit became two, to then various

And they were mainly never about his suit that she was making him.

He didn’t know why he found him attracted to her place...to her

But simply felt at home with her

He quickly learns everything about her. Her old school life, her friends, her ex, her parents, hobbies, and old commissions.

At first he thought she graduated early from highschool because of her bully, but it turns out that it was because she already had all her requirements done and seeing that there was no other reason to stay, she left. Also, having more time is what she needed if she wanted to succeed in the fashion world. So when her uncle (who he learns is Jagged Stone) offered her a hand, she took it and came to Gotham.

But Damian didn’t just listen, he also talked about himself

About Titus, his family, his fencing tournament. His opinions on Selina. His mixed feelings about his mother.

His family kept trying to follow him, but they have yet to figure out where he would go every other afternoon and evening.

Months pass, the suit already done and ready to be worn, but it still wasn’t the day of the Gala yet. But even then, Damian still stopped by, often times letting Marinette use him as a mannequin and dress form

Sometimes they would continue to talk about their mundane lives or things from the past that still ate at them, anything for Damian to simply listen to her voice because while he didn’t fully accept it, he knew he had feelings for her.

A scene that happens:

“And the worst part was that Alya knew she was lying. Lila was definitely not there because Alya was there. She was the one who saw Ladybug capture the akuma not Lila. Lila wasn’t anywhere near Paris when it even happened!” Marinette huffed as she tippy toed to make sure she was measuring the correct portion of Damian’s back.

Damian felt her presence ever so close to him, causing him to panic. Yes, he only allowed her to invade his personal space, but this was too much for his heart.

The aroma of baked goods always radiated from her and being this close only made Damian want to become obsessed with the smell even more.

“So even with that in mind, this Alya decided to take the other girl’s stance?” Marinette let out a sigh, walking in front of Damian and throwing the tape measure around his neck, causing him to tense up.

“Yeah, and I guess that’s what really made me snap to reality when it came to Alya.” Mari frowned at that, tightening the tape closer to each other to get a collar measure.

Lord, did she have no idea how much restraint Damian had to put himself under for just wanting to kiss her right now, but he knew better than than.

He took her hands away from the tape, noticing her eyes lacking that shine they usually carry when she’s in the crafting zone. He looked at her hands, covered in calluses and a few sewing mishaps. Even when they were covered in painful memories, Marinette hands were still gentle. “What’s gentle?”

Damian’s breath hitched, realizing that he said that last part out loud.

“You are.” Damian said, bringing her hands to his lips to kiss. Damian couldn’t help but feel victorious at the sight of Marinette glowing pink. “You’re a gentle and kind person. She doesn’t deserve your kindness if she was willing to quickly push you aside like that.”

Marinette looked straight at Damian before throwing herself into his chest, almost causing him to tip back. “Thank you, Damian.”

A few days were left until the gala, and it just had to be that time when his stupid brothers found out about his meetings with Marinette (and him coning to terms that he absolutely loves her)

“A girl, huh?” Jason would tease while Dick tried to gathering more information about Damian’s “friend”

“She’s simply designing my suit for-”

“The gala. Sure Lil’ D.” Grayson would say before wanting to pry more information from him.

“Why don’t you invite her to the gala?” Bruce proposes, Damian no thinking about it

“Maybe I will.” He regrets saying

And Marinette ends up saying yes, now panicking about what to wear

“What about that dress?” Damian points to her almost completed black dress.

A high collared black dress with long sleeves was what Damian was referring to. With an open back and skirt that fell to the ground, it’s golden accents by the collar that ran across the chest...it would match his own all black suit with golden accents at the shoulders and cumberbund.

“That.. that could actually work.”

Time skip to the gala, where when the two arrive, they steal the spotlight because not only did Damian arrive with a date, but she was stunning. Despite being three inches taller than him, Marinette was perfect by his side

“So Damian, what’s her name and how’d you meet this girl?” Jason asked first, but to Dick’s annoyance.

“Her name’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the one behind both of our attires.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Bruce manages to say despite being surprised by Damian’s new development.

“So how-” Tim attempted to ask, but marinette cut him off.

“We met at a fabric store. A fabric roll brought us together.”

The night goes on, with it ending by Marinette asking Damian to be her boyfriend. (Damian then also reveals that he was also going to ask her to be his girlfriend)

“Of course.” He says, having to stretch to kiss her, glad to have gone into that fabric store that day.

Sure, it was weird, but Damian was glad to day that a single fabric roll decided their fate of meeting each other.

#maribat #daminette #anju writes

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years ago

Text

Fools Rush In

Part 4

Series: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x OC (Riley)

Previous chapters can be found here.

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. As a drunken night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained for.

MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC Riley Brooks lives in Las Vegas.

A/N: No wacky drabble for this one. Went a wee bit over and couldn’t cut. Oh well...there’s always next time. This is an 18+ series.

A/N: The lyrics to the song Maxwell sings comes from a Tik Tok video that was shared with me and the idea to include it in this is not my own hahahaha I will post the link to the video in comments to give the maker proper credit and just in case anyone wants to actually watch it. I thought it was funny..

Thanks @burnsoslow for beta reading and all of my lovely pre-readers.

Warning: Mention of STD’s

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Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.

____________

All Riley wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, snuggle up in a blanket on the couch with a Lifetime movie, and carry on with the rest of her life.

She'd had this crazy but exciting night out with a fantastic guy. They had a little too much to drink and woke up the next morning to find they were married to each other.

And she wasn't just married to anyone. No, it had to be the King of a small European country she'd never heard of before.

That's not something that just happened to everyone.

Depending on how one viewed her circumstances she was either the luckiest or unluckiest woman in all of Vegas.

If she were a betting person, she'd place money on the latter.

Riley stood at the penthouse door, engaged in a stare down with the blonde-haired obstacle blocking the exit.

In front of her was a woman wearing a black and white fur coat, a strand of pearls that hung loosely around her neck, and an impudent scowl.

If evil were a lady, Riley surmised she was looking at her.

Madeleine's green eyes bore agitation and scorn as she studied the petite figure she recognized from the dozens of photos that bombarded her text messages.

"You must be the bimbo who thinks she will steal my crown and title."

"Excuse me?" Riley's eyes narrowed, not knowing who she was speaking to, but could already tell she didn’t care to know.

Leo stepped up protectively behind Riley and growled at the countess. "Go away, Madeleine! How many times do we have to tell you the dalmatians aren't for sale?"

"You wish I were here for dalmatians," Madeleine sneered. "Now, out of my way, heathens."

She pushed her way past the two and stalked inside while Mara shuffled behind. She removed her cashmere gloves and took notice of her fiance with his back pressed against the bar top, one legs crossed over the other, and sipping casually on his scotch.

Liam tipped the glass to his lips as if he didn't have a care in the world and swallowed. "Can I offer you a glass of wine, dear? Or a cronut? Perhaps a ride to the middle of the desert to be left for dead?"

"That's quite alright," Madeleine quipped as she ripped the glass out of Liam's hand and slammed it down on the bar. "But maybe you'd like to first explain why I have been inundated with one message after the next telling me you were married to this ..." She motioned her hand toward Riley with derision. "This ... bitch?"

Liam paused as if he were thinking about it, then shook his head. "No. Not really." She's not a bitch ... she's amazing. He wondered why he couldn't say that out loud.

Stunned, Riley looked up at Leo in disbelief. "Did she really just call me a bitch? She doesn't even know me."

Leo nodded with a compassionate smile on his face, then pulled her further inside and shut the door.

He wasn't about to let her go now.

Liam grabbed his drink, pushed himself off the bar, and strolled to the center of the room. He could feel Madeleine's icy glare following his every movement. The King hoped his flippant attitude was enough to penetrate deep into her frozen exterior and piss her off even more. "I thought you were in New York, Mads. 8 million people in that city for you to torment, and you still make time to hop on your broomstick and find me. I have to say … I'm touched."

Madeleine shot him a dirty look. "Do you have any idea what I've been through because of what you did last night?"

He shrugged. "Nope, and I don't care."

"Well, you're going to care when I tell you everything that happened." She disregarded the audible groan and eye roll from him as she began her diatribe of offenses. "I had just settled in for the night when I get a message from that simpleton, Penelope, telling me what you did. I tried to call you, but apparently, you and the rest of your entourage of losers blocked my number. So I had this incompetent boob of a guard you hired for me book the first flight out here.

“When I got to JFK, I was detained and strip-searched because someone falsely alerted authorities claiming I was a Colombian drug lord, only in the U.S. to sell cocaine and hypodermic needles to children --"

Leo snorted.

Liam curled his lips into a devilish grin, knowing exactly who did it. He glanced subtly to Mara, who winked back at him.

"Are you even listening to me, Liam? As if that nightmare wasn't horrid enough, I find out Mara booked coach class … COACH! Coach is so beneath someone like me. There were babies and old people and sodas. But the worst was when we finally arrived here; they strip-searched me again. I had to get my own baggage and ride in one of those god-awful smelly shuttle vans to this hotel. And do you know why I had to do all of that? Because you're a complete moron, Liam. The people of Cordonia are laughing at you; you know that, right? I always knew you would be a total embarrassment and fuck up, but this is beyond anything I imagined."

A downcast expression was plastered on Liam's face as he stared down at the drink in his shaky hand. Those words stung -- “a total embarrassment and fuck up.” In his mind, he felt she was right. He had let down even his own expectation of himself and the reputation of the monarchy.

There was nothing to do but stand there and stew in silence.

But Riley wouldn’t.

She shrugged Leo's hand from her shoulder and spun Madeleine around by the arm to face her. "Is this what you do? You go around insulting everyone and being a first-class bitch? I will have you know, Liam is not any of those things. He's the kindest, sweetest man I've ever met. And it's no wonder he looked so miserable last night at the club. I couldn't understand why at first, but now ... now it all makes sense. Did you ever stop to think that maybe if you weren't such a fucking cunt, he wouldn't have been drinking so much and been so willing to accept the company of another woman?"

Liam felt his heart twinge. Riley had every right to be upset with him, and he felt guilty for putting her in this situation. But there she was, defending him. God, she was hot.

Madeleine guffawed. "How cute. You've got your little whore taking up for you now."

"That's enough!" Liam's eyes landed sharply on her. Before he could stop himself, the next few words sprang from his lips as naturally as his breath. "You will not speak to my wife -- your Queen -- like that again, or so help me I will charge you where you stand for treason against the Crown. Do I make myself clear?"

Riley's eyes rounded, unsure of what to say or do at that moment.

Leo loudly cheered and pumped his fist in the air.

Liam stood his ground as he glowered back at his slack-jawed, now ex-fiancee.

Madeleine couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You can't be serious? We are getting married in two weeks. I'm going to be the Queen!" Her tone was one of anger and desperation.

He laughed wryly in her face. "Not anymore."

He looked past a stunned Madeleine to the heedless guard smirking behind her. "Mara, please see to it that the countess returns to the airport and doesn't disturb us again."

She agreed and led a vociferously-protesting Madeleine toward the doorway.

"You'll regret this, Liam. You'll both pay for this travesty!"

"Use the taser on her, Mara!" Leo bounced with excitement as he followed them and opened the door. He handed the guard a $100 bill as she walked by and whispered, "Make sure they strip search her again. A bonus if they need double gloves and lube."

"You got it, boss."

Leo slammed the door and clapped. "Ding-dong, the witch is gone! So. Do you need help packing, sis? We still have a couple of hours before we go back to Cordonia. That should be enough time to gather some things."

Riley stammered, looking between the two men, completely dumbfounded by what just took place.

Liam noticed. He knew what he said to Madeleine about her being his wife and Queen was most likely awkward for her.

They didn't know each other; it was a fact, he continued to remind himself.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. "Uh, Riley ... I just want you to know ... I only said that stuff because of Madeleine ..."

"Oh, yes. Of course. I knew that." She chuckled nervously and waved her hand. "But what about your engagement?"

"Yeah, Liam. You gotta have a queen." Leo clapped the back of one hand against the palm of the other and exclaimed, "Dem's da rules."

Liam shook his head and carried his empty glass to the open kitchen. "I know that, Leo. But I will not ask Riley to give up her life here just to help me clean up my mess. She deserves better than that."

Riley crossed her arms on the counter that looked into the kitchen, watching Liam get a bottled water from the fridge. "What happens if you don't have a Queen?"

Liam twisted the cap and gave a half-shrug. "I don't have a choice. I'll have to marry Madeleine." The words stung his lips.

"But she's so pissed at you right now."

He chuckled. "That won't stop her. She wants the crown, and that's it."

Riley could see the sadness in his eyes, the same sadness she saw last night in the club where they first met. "You'll be miserable with her, though," she muttered wistfully.

He nodded, regret written on his face. "Yeah."

Riley stood silent; she weighed the pros and cons of such a massive uprooting. Her life had been slightly stalled and bland for the last few years. Las Vegas was her getaway to a new life from New York, where she left behind both regrets and failed relationships. And yet ... this new place wasn't everything she told herself it would be.

She looked at Liam and felt her heart break. She understood him more than he realized.

But ... to be a Queen?

Riley inhaled deeply and prepared to speak up when Liam's phone rang.

He placed the cap on his water, sat it on the counter, and lifted his phone from the pocket of his shorts. "It's Maxwell," he called out.

Leo rushed to him. "Put it on speaker, Li!"

"Maxwell, I have you on speaker. Leo and Riley are with me. How's Drake?"

"He's in the pharmacy, and I'm standing outside getting air. It's going to take a while to amass all the medication and creams he needs."

The brothers looked at each other with wide eyes. Riley covered her mouth to prevent the chuckle that threatened to escape. "I think I'll give you guys some privacy. I'll just be in the bathroom."

Liam nodded and turned his attention back to the call. "Is it really that bad, Max? I mean, I think we know what he has."

"Dudes, I don't think you can even begin to guess half the shit Drake's got."

"You gotta tell us what the Drakester has, Max."

"I'm not really supposed to say."

They could hear the hesitation in his voice. It was almost like he wanted to tell them, but needed a little more coaxing.

"Maxwell," Liam spoke. "If Drake doesn't want us to know, then you should probably keep it to yourself ... for now."

"I did kind of write a song about everything he was diagnosed with for a TikTok video. Drake only said not to tell anyone. He never said I couldn't sing about it."

Leo nodded his head. "Agreed. Sing that song, Beaumont."

They could hear Maxwell shuffle further away from what sounded like a crowded street.

"Okay, the coast is clear," Maxwell said as he took a deep breath. The boys hugged their ears against Liam's cell phone.

"Drake just left the clinic, and I'm afraid its bad news.

So now I'm singing this song about it hoping it gets views.

Don't know how he's still alive.

Or how he survived.

The doctor said he's got five ... nasty STIs.

He's got some in his balls … got some in his ass.

And what's worse is his curly pubes are crawling with crabs.

He's got herpes! From a booty call!

He's got syphilis …now his dick is raw.

He's got chlamydia … And it's so sore.

And he doesn't even know where he got genital warts."

Liam pressed two fingers into both sides of his temples while he stared blankly at his phone. "Un - believable."

Leo swiped the tears from his eyes and made no attempts to hide the giant smile curling his lips or his overwhelming giddiness. "I've never been more proud of the Drakester than I am at this moment. He actually beat me out on this one. Gotta say ... I don't mind losing to him this time."

“Liam. Leo. I gotta go; Drake’s on his way out. See ya back at the hotel.”

Leo went to the refrigerator to search for a snack, pulling out a leftover pizza. “Ya know, we should probably warn the maid she may need to get a haz-mat team before cleaning Drake’s room.”

Riley rounded the corner. “I hope everything is okay with your friend.”

Liam smiled. “That’s very kind of you say. He’ll be fine … I think.”

She fidgeted with her bracelet and glanced over at Leo placing a slice of cold pizza on top of another slice and taking a large bite. “Leo, I hate to ask while you’re eating … again. But would you mind if I spoke to your brother for a moment? Privately.”

Leo chewed quickly while shaking his head. He swallowed hard. “Sure. I needed to use the shitter, anyway. Pinquee Kittee’s casserole isn’t sitting too well in the Leo tummy.” He grabbed the pizza box and headed for the bathroom.

Liam looked curiously at Riley, not able to read her expression or have any clue what she would want to talk about. “You needed to speak with me?”

She nodded. “Yeah. About our marriage ...”

#the royal romance #king liam #choices liam x mc #king Liam x mc #liam x mc #choices fanfiction #trr #trr au fanfic #choices trr #Fools Rush In #bbrandy2002 #tw: std #a lot of stds

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thebonerpit · 5 years ago

Photo

~*~ Santa’s Little Helper ~*~

Starker, no powers au, 2016 words, fluffy, cheeky, Christmas-y fun (that was intended to be just smut but ended up like this... if people like it I might do a pt.2)

This was hell. Tony was in hell. And hell was decorated like Santa got drunk and threw up Christmas cheer over every available surface.

Pepper wanted Morgan to get her picture with Santa, and absolutely refused the idea of Tony just hiring someone to come the house and do it there. Something about going to a mall Santa was more “authentic”, she said. Tony was sure she just wanted to torture him while she was away in LA with her new boyfriend. So unfair.

Which is why he was currently standing in a line with hundreds of other miserable parents and screaming, sugar-filled children waiting to hand his daughter over to a stranger who probably smelled like cheese and stale beer and hope she didn’t start crying. Joy. As they finally rounded the last corner, Tony could see the scene in front of him. Jolly old Santa (who, to be fair, looked perfectly pleasant and not drunk), a big Christmas tree, and… hello there.

Tony’s gaze was immediately locked on what appeared to be an elf, currently bending over to scrape a small child off the floor and back on to Santa’s lap. His legs were encased in some obscenely tight green leggings, and the curve of what looked like an absolutely perfect ass was barely visible under the edge of a bright red tunic. He even had a little pointed hat with a bell, and what looked like plastic elf ears attached to the edge of it. But when he turned around, that’s when Tony was really dumbstruck. He was beautiful. Young, far too young for Tony to even be considering but hey, who ever said Tony made good choices? He had huge brown eyes that matched the brown curls peeking out from under the hat, and an adorable round face that made him look perfectly innocent and sweet.

Tony wanted him.

He seemed distracted by trying to wrangle all the children ahead of them so he didn’t look up until Tony and Morgan were next in line.

“Welcome to Santa’s Village, may I get your—uh… your…”

Tony smirked.

“Your name! Your name, please. Um. Sir.”

“Tony Stark,” he said, still smirking at the flush on the boy’s cheeks as he typed it into the iPad. He was trying to hard to be professional, bless, but Tony could tell he was attracted to him. Tony knew the effect he could have on people, but most of the time their adoration was an annoyance more than anything. Now, it seemed, he couldn’t get enough. The boy looked back, purposely avoiding Tony’s gaze, and focused on Morgan. This seemed to help and he easily switched back into elf mode.

“And you must be…” he said, bending down to smile at the young girl clinging to Tony’s leg.

“Morgan H. Stark, and I’m here to see Santa Claus,” she stated proudly. The boy laughed and extended his hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Morgan H. Stark. My name is Peter, and I’m one of Santa’s elves.”

Morgan’s eyes went wide as she shook his hand (or rather, his fingers).

“Do you make toys?”

“I sure do! Do you have a special toy you want to ask Santa for this year?”

“Uh-huh!” Morgan said, nodding her head vigorously. She looked like she was about to go on but Peter quickly shushed her.

“Shh, that’s gonna be a secret between you and Santa, ok? And then he can tell me what to make for you!”

Morgan nodded again, looking very serious. Tony was absolutely charmed. This boy – Peter – was so good with her, and it honestly warmed his cold, black heart a little. Peter stood back up and the flush on his cheeks returned when he looked at Tony again.

“It will just be a minute, sir, apologies for the wait.”

“Of course. Peter, was it?”

“Um, yes… yes sir.”

“And what is a lovely elf like you doing working in a place like this?” It was terribly cheesy but Tony just couldn’t help himself, and he was rewarded by Peter flushing even deeper and ducking his head.

“I… school. Um, I mean… I’m in school? Not right now, of course. Winter break. But… I kinda needed the extra money.”

“He means that he doesn’t want to have to resort to eating the on-campus hot dogs anymore because they keep giving him really bad—”

“MJ!” he screeched, startling the people around them in line.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, and then turned to the girl beside him and glared at her until she rolled her eyes and moved away.

“Where do you go, Columbia?” Tony asked. Peter looked adorable when he was embarrassed but Tony didn’t want him to stop talking because of it.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “first year. Biochem.”

“Biochem? Impressive. Yeah I’ve been there a few times… pro-tip, the cafeteria sells discount sandwiches at the end of the day. Might be a better choice than hot dogs.”

Peter looked up, all wide, brown Bambi eyes, and smiled.

“Uh… thanks, Mr. Stark. For the tip.”

God, there were SO many inappropriate jokes just begging to spill from Tony’s lips but they were all saved by Morgan tugging on Tony’s pant leg.

“Daddy, daddy, look, it’s my turn!”

“So it is, wingnut,” Tony said, petting her hair with one hand but still completely focused on Peter’s face.

“Come with me, Morgan,” Peter said, holding out his hand for her. She followed him over to where Santa was perched on his throne (did Santa really need a throne that big?) and he helped her up on to his lap. The other elf, MJ, seemed to be working the camera so Peter stood off to the side and gave Morgan an encouraging thumbs up. Tony watched, a smile creeping across his face, as Morgan explained in great detail what she wanted for Christmas this year. Santa looked a little dumbfounded but Tony assumed it wasn’t every day a child asked for a fully programmable robot cat that can also turn into a repulsor-powered rocket ship that she can ride around the yard. And no, Tony did NOT give her that idea whatsoever…

Unfortunately, Santa then started asking her other questions and although Morgan wasn’t a shy child, she didn’t like going into situations unprepared. She started looking visibly uncomfortable, squirming away and ducking her head, and Tony was just about to step in when Peter scooted forward and knelt down beside her.

“Hey Morgan, you did such a great job! How about we get a photo, and then you can pick a candy from the toy chest ok?”

Morgan still looked displeased but she nodded, and Peter nodded back. However, as soon as he went to leave she made a little noise and reached out to grab him.

“No. You stay.”

Peter swallowed and looked over his shoulder at MJ, who just shrugged.

“Sweetheart, elves aren’t supposed to be in the photos, ok? It’s just for you and Santa! It’ll just take a few seconds—”

“No!” she said, much more forcefully this time, and Tony could see her eyes starting to tear up.

“I… um…”

Tony Stark to the rescue, once again.

“It’s fine,” he called out, waving a hand at Peter from behind the camera, “you can stay.”

“A—are you sure, sir? I don’t want to intrude…”

“You’re not intruding, you’re saving me from having to explain to my ex why our daughter is in tears in what’s supposed to be a heartwarming Christmas memory.”

This got a little laugh out of him, and he looked down at Morgan who was still clinging to him, her hot little hand pressed into his.

“Ok. Alright. How about I just sit here, Morgan, is that ok?” He sat on the top step, just to the side of Santa’s throne, where he could still hold her hand. He arranged his legs gracefully underneath him and Tony once again thanked whatever god made those green leggings. “Can you give us a big smile?”

Morgan seemed appeased, and when MJ called out “say Santa!” she grinned widely. A perfect photograph. Pepper would be happy.

Peter led her over to the toy chest and while she started rummaging through for a candy, he walked over to Tony with his festive green and red iPad.

“The photo should be ready in a few moments. How would you like to pay?”

Tony handed over his black card which made Peter’s eyes widen briefly, but he processed it without a word, handing it back to Tony and definitely not shivering as their fingers brushed.

“Thanks, by the way,” Tony said casually as he put the card back in his wallet, “for avoiding what could have been a meltdown of epic proportions. Morguna is a great kid but her screams would probably break every pane of glass in this building.”

“Oh! Oh, it’s no problem sir, it’s what we’re here for. And I apologize again for having to be in the photo… we might be able to edit me out if—”

“Nonsense. It just makes it extra festive, right? And I can’t say I mind having the option to look at you on my mantel instead of an old fat man with a beard.”

Peter giggled – god, Tony could never get tired of that sound – and bit his lip.

“Th-thank you,” he said quietly. The bell on the end of his ridiculous hat jingled as he looked over to where Morgan was still digging into the candy stash. Tony took that moment to quickly scribble a note on one of his business cards and wrap it in a few hundred dollar bills, which he slid into one of Peter’s pockets on the front of his tunic. The sensation made Peter’s head whip back around, bell jingling even louder, as he stared open-mouthed at the money.

“Oh, sir, I can’t… we don’t accept tips…” He started to take the bills out but Tony stopped him with a warm hand pressed over his thin wrist.

“It’s not a tip, then,” Tony said, rubbing one thumb along Peter’s smooth skin. “Consider it a donation to your ‘no more hot dogs in 2020’ fund.”

Peter’s chest was practically heaving under Tony’s hand, and he watched as he swallowed thickly before looking up at him through those sinful lashes.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “thank you so much, sir.”

“Hey, it’s the holidays,” Tony said, leaning in just a little closer until he could see the gold sparkling in Peter’s big brown eyes, “Merry Christmas, Peter.”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied breathlessly.

“I FOUND A CHOCOLATE SANTA!” Morgan yelled.

Tony groaned inwardly but turned to look at his daughter, smiling brightly and wielding a foil-wrapped chocolate Santa.

“Good job! Let’s go bite his head off, ok?”

Morgan cackled as Tony leaned down and scooped her up, hoisting her on his hip. He turned back to Peter who still looked like he might hyperventilate at any moment and offered him a crooked smile.

“Bye, Mr. Elf!” Morgan said, waving as Tony carried her out of the gates and back into the crowded mall. He purposely didn’t look back, even though he could feel Peter’s eyes boring holes into his skull. He just had to be patient.

+++++

Peter (10:59 p.m.): Hi Mr. Stark. Thank you again for the tip. It was WAY too much. But thank you.

Tony (11:01 p.m.): I see you found my card, too.

Peter (11:03 p.m.): I did… I’m free on Thursday. Or Saturday. Or any day, honestly, I’ll get MJ to cover for me because yeah I’d really really really really like to go on a date with you.

Tony (11:05 p.m.): That sure is a lot of really’s. I feel so special. Pick you up on Saturday at 8pm. Wear those tights for me, ok?

Peter (11:07 p.m.): NO.

Tony (11:08 p.m.): Don’t make a grown man beg, sweetheart.

Peter (11:10 p.m.): … I can wear them under my pants.

Tony (11:11 p.m.): Oh, you really are a Christmas miracle. Can’t wait, sweet thing. See you soon.

#starker #starker fic #tony x peter #tony stark/peter parker #tbpwrites #i was SURE the first thing i wrote for this fandom would be absolute filth #but here we are #christmas fluff #who am i??

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punkcupcakestyles · 5 years ago

Text

Love Song

Part 11

Catch Up!

(Warning: Smut ahead)

“I’ll tell you later...maybe,”

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” His eyes turned half closed, just as if he already knew I was lying. So I grinned, offering him an innocent smile as I took his hand in mine.

“Are you gonna tell me you’re still in love with your ex?”

“I’m not.”

“Perhaps...if you repeat that to yourself...it’d maybe sound real.”

He took a step closer, and my breath hitched at the sight of him. God, he was so beautiful, I wished I could get lost in him.

“I’m not,” he repeated and there was this sudden air of intimacy between us as if we were sharing our deepest secrets; as if nothing else mattered.

“Almost,” I whispered in response. I almost believed him. He was almost there.

Had I walked away right then, I might have been able to convince myself that the sweetness in his eyes and the tingling on my skin were all for show and that they, whoever they were, had already gotten their fair share of cute and intimate photos and it was now time to go back to the table.

If only I was that smart.

I stared at his lips for just a couple of seconds and smiled as he leaned forward and brushed my cheek daintily with his fingers, pushing my hair back. There was an intense feeling in the air, and even if I couldn’t name, it was overwhelming. It felt as if the words that kept failing us were ringing in the air, with no need to be said out loud.

“What?” I giggled as he looked at me with that intensity that he had seemed to have mastered.

If I was being honest, the seconds were going by ridiculously slow and I was starting to feel nervous. Why did I ask about his ex? What if what he wanted to tell me was that he was still in love with her? That he wanted to end things so he could be happy for real?

What would I do then? I was the one that was stupid enough to ask.

Surely, I would have to let him go and forget about him, even though I had a feeling it would hurt like a bitch. Give him back his memories and move on with my life, was all I could do. Not his kisses, though, those were mine to carry forever.

“Nothing…” Harry finally shrugged. “We should go back before D comes for us.”

I didn’t get my answer, I rarely ever did with him.

He walked away without saying another word and I watched him as he sat back on his chair, and smiled as someone offered to refill his coffee for him. I wondered how he had gotten so good at hiding his feelings. How many lies had he told? I hoped not as many as I had, anyway.

I sat down next to D and forced a smile at her as she looked at me suspiciously. I still felt heavy in my chest for some reason and my head was spinning around in thoughts, about the things that Harry could say and the dreadful feeling of slipping away.

It was silly, I kept repeating to myself, I was silly. Actually, I was an idiot.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Diana sang, and I saw the overly sweet smile she was offering me.

For the first time that morning, I focused on her: the pouty fullness of her lips and the freckles on her nose. I noticed the almost full plate next to her, and the slight hint of hunger that shone in her eyes. I knew about that, I had spent enough days not eating so I could fit into a dress. Her eyes widened and turned down suddenly, a glint of resentfulness taking over the hunger when I pushed a chocolate and blueberry muffin her way.

“A muffin for my thoughts, how about that?” I said softly.

“Smart,” D mused as she pinched just a tiny bit of the muffin and popping it into her mouth. It was barely enough to chew, and I frowned as she grinned childishly. “I was thinking, we should go to Alexander Mcqueen, see if we can get you a dress for tonight’s party. Or maybe Saint Laurent. You always use Chanel.”

I looked at her almost dumbfounded and blinked stupidly as I waited for her to continue. I didn’t know of any party, couldn't remember her telling me about it and, most importantly, I didn't feel like going anywhere.

Diana finally looked at me, after having spent at least 2 minutes dissecting the poor muffin and she must have seen the confusion on my face cause her eyes widened again and I smiled stupidly at her.

“The producers’ party, Sof!” D finally exclaimed, leaning closer to me as she tried to be discreet. “You do remember you’re here for work, right?”

“I do!" I objected. I just didn't plan on really working while I was in London.

“Harry is work, you haven’t forgotten that, right?”

“I have not.”

“I hope so,” she whispered as she pulled away from me to sit fully back on her chair. “So the dress, Macqueen or Saint Laurent?”

“I don’t really care.” All I wanted to do was to be petulant and turn my face away like a bratty child, just like Cat did when she was a baby and I told her she couldn’t eat the raw cookie dough. But if I did, I would’ve to look at Harry and be reminded that he was indeed just a part of my job, and I didn’t feel like thinking about that. I was fucking trapped.

“Ok, then, ruffles and flowers it is. The bigger, the better.”

I looked at Diana, pretty sure she was being serious, and sighed, stealing back the muffin I had offered her to pick on it as well. Between Harry’s cologne right next to me and Diana’s inquisitive eyes, I felt like I was starting to spiral down; like it was all becoming a little too much. Like I could run away and start a new life, again.

“Zuhair Murad...Please. I would like a dress from him,” I mumbled without looking at Diana, cause I was afraid that she might see that I was losing my mind just a tiny bit. It was hard to breathe, just as if I were drowning and I couldn't come up for air. “I think, uh...I think I’m gonna head back to the hotel, D,”

“W-What? Why?” Diana stammered as she watched me get up from my chair and pick my coat and my bag that were dangling from it. I could feel her eyes on me, as well as everyone else’s, looking at me like I was fucking crazy. And maybe I fucking was.

I avoided Harry's eyes when he stood next to me and took my hand in his, frowning worriedly as he looked at me.

“Are you ok, baby?” He whispered.

“I’m sorry,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear. “I, uh, I have a headache. I think I’m gonna head back.”

“Ok, I’ll go with you, then,” he said as he was already picking his coat without letting my hand go. I squeezed his fingers lightly to call for his attention and smiled when he looked at me with his big, bright eyes.

“It’s ok. I could use some time alone," I whispered just for him this time, pressing my lips to his as my fingers slipped around his waist, and his went to the small of my back to pull me a little bit closer. It was soft and slow, meant to be just a tiny peck, but neither of us wanted to let go, and we stood close to each other as our lips and he continued to kiss me softly once and again.

“You sure?” His lips brushed mine when he talked and the tip of his nose bumped against mine.

“I’m sure,” I wasn’t. “Stay here with your friends, please.” Right there, that was the problem: the fact that my fingers were curled around his shirt and refused to let him go.

***

@hipsdontlie “You reckon Harry eats ass? I would serve him mine on a plate”

@rockerflower “Jesus, every time I see Sofia, I feel tingling in parts that shouldn’t be tingling.”

@icanfeelititinmyheartl4e “he has such a pretty beard.”

@confusedkate “I would give my first unborn to see these two f***.”

***

D was indeed incredible.

I stared down at the couple of dresses that she had gotten me, and with trembling fingers, I picked up the handwritten note that came with them.

“Whatever you choose, you’ll look glorious. Z.M.”

It was neatly written on an elegant paper, and the signature had a bit of flourish to it. Glorious was not the word I would use, but God, those dresses were stunning.

There was a black dress, composed of a black top and a sheer skirt, both fully embroidered with black beads. The sheer panels were placed in the middle of the skirt, and I was supposed to use a pair of black undies with it.

My other option was a blue suit, with shorts and a top with a plunging neck, that only joined around my waist. Both the jacket and the shorts were sequined with white, golden and red beads to form Egyptian imagery. It was stupidly beautiful, but my ass probably wouldn’t fit in those shorts.

Finally, a golden top with long sleeves and a signature Egyptian collar and a long skirt. Both were embroidered with tombs and hieroglyphs that reminded me of the Book of the Dead. That was a little scary to wear, I wasn't looking to be canceled just yet.

The black dress was my safest choice, so that's what I went with, paired with purple heels and a black peacoat. My team had done the rest: My hair was sleek and shiny, not a hair out of place and my makeup was smokey and subtle, making me look mysterious.

Diana helped me with the details, tucking and pushing in the right places until I looked like I had curves without showing too much skin. That seemed to be important.

She must’ve asked if I was cold about a thousand times, and by the time we left, I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t cold for real, or if I was just stubborn enough to freeze to death. I clutched my coat closer, just in case.

The ride to the party was smooth and silent. From time to time D would give me an update on my social media or some tell me about some tea she had found about. I pretended to listen, nodding my head whenever I heard the excitement in her voice or humming as she talked.

I wanted to ask her if Harry was going to the party, cause she hadn't said so and I hadn’t dared to ask. Harry hadn’t texted me after I left the restaurant, and I was feeling empty and kind of silly for missing him already. So I remained silent, choosing not to ask what I didn’t want to know the answer for.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he would like my dress, cause I felt pretty in it, or if he would nuzzle his nose onto my neck to feel my perfume. The few times we had slept together, he would bury his face onto the curve of it as he fell asleep, his fingers tightly pressed to my hips as if to keep me close.

I was silly, indeed.

The entry to the party was chaotic, to say the least. Celebrities were lining up in front of a flower wall to be photographed by a bunch of paps and I turned around at the sight of it all, but D held my hand to stop me from doing so. I groaned and walked to them, smiling and joking as they ordered me around. Move to the left, smile more, smile less, look this way. I smiled until I got bored and with a small wave, I got into the house, followed by their screams to give them a few more shots.

I had been to parties, it was part of my job. Every few weeks, or days even, there was something different to celebrate. This seemed to be kind of a laid-back party, one of those where people would chat, get drunk and take cool photos. It was decorated with flowers upon flowers, and “vintage” furniture, loveseats that looked like they came out of a palace, with rich red velvet cushions and golden details, and chandeliers.

“Dear God, you look stunning!!” The male voice made me turn around, and smile at the overly tanned man that was looking at me. His name was Martin and he was the producer of my latest movie. His bow tie was a little bit crooked and he probably should've picked a black one instead of a purple, but he was rich enough to do exactly what he pleased. I hugged him, with my arms around his round belly.

It was then when I saw her. I had never seen her before in my life, but I knew it was her, and she was beautiful, the kind of beauty that is meant to break hearts, cause what’s the point otherwise?

Her blonde hair was styled in waves and her red dress hugged the curves of her body in just the right places. She had a sweet smile, almost like candy, and her tiny nose scrunched up as someone told her a joke. Slowly, I looked around her and my heart stopped for a full second as I realized who was the funny guy.

He was sitting right next to her, wearing a blue suit and a slightly sheer white shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Harry was looking at her with adoring eyes, smiling softly as he listened to her talk.

I hoped someone would look at me like that someday.

If I had to describe what I was feeling, it would be something black, cloudy and heavy at the same time. I looked at him and knew that his happiness was way more important than whatever stupid feeling I may have. But it also hurt, in some kind of new way. It was right in my chest, where my heart was supposed to be.

I didn’t realize I wasn’t breathing until D squeezed her fingers around my wrist, pulling me softly to her side and I looked at Martin, who was offering me an odd smile.

"Are you ok, sweetheart?" He asked and I nodded automatically, wishing I was anywhere else, but there.

How stupid was I?

"Yes," I smiled. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Marvel! The Marvel Universe is waiting for you, how about that? Disney won’t greenlight the project until you’ve said yes. You know you're my favorite."

"Of course she is," Diana interjected to fill my awkward silence. "Just look at her!"

"A pretty package filled with talent, you are difficult one to ignore, my dear."

Nice words, but I could think about was the pain I was feeling.

***

One hour had gone by and Diana had dragged me as far away as she could from Harry and his ex, and we were now sitting on the far corner of the house, where I was taking a blue couch, sitting right next to a gorgeous guy with gorgeous lips.

I tried to focus on him, on whatever he was saying, the way his lips moved with every word. He looked a lot like Sam, from the greenish swirls in his chocolate eyes to the pink tint of his plump lips.

God, he was pretty.

He smiled brightly and looked at me shyly as he offered me another drink, a gin tonic with lime on it and I grabbed it, holding it as I looked at him. For a second, his fingers brushed over my hand and my eyes darted to him as he pulled it away. He sighed and smiled to himself as he sat back on the couch.

"Sorry," he said shyly.

Mark, his name was Mark, I needed to remember that.

What if I kissed him? Would that look bad?

My phone rang, and for a second there, I thought about ignoring it, just like I had all night long. But I needed a break from my stupid thoughts.

"S'okay," I assured him, as I went to take my phone out of my green clutch.

@Harry

You should tell him you have a boyfriend, yknow?

You look beautiful, btw.

My eyes rose from the phone to look for him in the crowded room. My heart was dancing anxiously at the thought of seeing him again and I scanned over the people until I found him, leaning on a wall right across from me. He was looking at me, a little smirk playing on his lips when I found him.

@Harry

Meet me in the bathroom by the left door in 5, yeah?

I looked at him one more time, already imagining what would happen if I went to the bathroom. His sweet, heavy kisses on my skin, his fingers pressed to the curve of my ass as he made his way up to the hem of my shorts to pull them down.

Would he do that thing he had done the night before, tasting me like I was fucking dessert? Would he allow me to touch him, maybe get on my knees for him? I had never done that, but I would do it in a heartbeat for him.

It was so tempting, my head was already spinning.

I held his gaze as I put my phone back into my clutch and smiled brazenly at him as I denied with my head, right before turning around to continue my one-sided chat with Mark.

***

I knew I was being stupid. I knew it because feel Diana’s eyes on me and I kept wondering if Harry was looking at me too. My knees were both on the couch, stacked over the other, and I was sitting on one side of my body as I laughed at something a pretty girl had said. My shoes were off and I was nestling my drink in my hand, while my head was propped up on the other one. I felt snug, warm and sleepy, maybe because Mark was sitting too close, or maybe because I had had one too many drinks.

Mark turned to look at me and his eyes were bright, maybe because he was drunk too.

“You’re falling asleep” He whispered intimately and I only managed to nod, a silly smile spreading on my lips as he moved slightly closer.

“I am.”

“What if I wanted to kiss you?”

My eyes snapped open and I was suddenly not sleepy anymore. Panic was definitely the feeling that was running through my veins at that very moment, as I saw him slowly moving to kiss me. I spilled some of my drink on my lap and I took that as my opportunity to break the tension that was filling the air.

“You don’t want to kiss me,” I told him as I tried to dry the little patch and without looking at him. “You want to kiss the actress, not me.”

“I’m pretty sure I want to kiss you.”

“No one does,” I shook my head. “Trust me.”

“Let’s find out,” Mark smirked and I chuckled, amused by his gut.

Fuck.

“I-I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cause she has a boyfriend.” Harry’s voice rang next to me, as the sofa dipped hastily right next to me. I wobbled for a second and turned to look at him.

He was as relaxed as ever and his voice was soft as if he didn’t want anyone to know what we were talking about. But there was something about him that’s wasn’t as sweet as usual. A hint of darkness in his eyes that made them shine differently, almost angrily. “And by boyfriend I mean me. Hi, mate, I’m Harry”

I was gobsmacked if there’s ever a right moment to use that word. I kept looking at him as if he were a fucking ghost that had appeared out of nowhere. What was he doing there? Who the fuck did he think he was with that stupid smile on his face and his cool pose?

“Sorry, baby,” he said. “Did you miss me?” He hung his head back and offered me an amused smile while his fingers went to my thigh, resting there as his green eyes finally met mine.

Did Fake Sofia miss her Fake Boyfriend? With every inch of her body. But did I miss Harry? My whole body was aching and I was sure he had everything to do with it.

I peered at Mark, who looked nervous and unsure of himself, so I smiled at him softly and sweetly. It was my better choice, cause otherwise, I would probably cry out of anger.

Harry’s arm went to the back of my chair behind me, and his thigh pressed to mine as if he wanted to remind me he was still there.

It all felt like a show as if he was way too worried about what people might’ve thought and he cared very little about my actual feelings or how I was doing that night. If anything, I was the one being humiliated.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to Mark.

With that, I got up from the couch to make my way to the door. and leave without Harry.

***

It took me more than an hour to get ready for bed. I cleaned my face and washed my hair carefully, and I carefully put the dress away, so it wouldn’t crease or get dirty. I took a long shower and put on a clean shirt, large enough to cover my ass.

My hair was still dripping down but I was sitting comfortably on my bed, with the thick covers over my legs and a bunch of scripts and books spread over them. I had pulled out my markers and pens and was now going ham on a particular page, highlighting pretty much all of it without even actually reading it.

I felt like I was supposed to be crying like that was the natural thing to do and I was just pretending to be brave. Truth was, I couldn’t even do that, I was stuck with a numb pain, sharp and heavy, but also dark and silent.

There was a knock on the door just as I was running out of space to highlight, and I grunted, already rolling my eyes as I untangled myself from the sheets. I was pretty sure what would say to Diana when I opened the door: `Don’t worry, I’m still here, I’m not running away. You can tell Midge everything’s ok.” Although, ´fuck off´ was also a good choice.

“I’m alright, D,” I sighed as soon as I opened the door and before I realized it was D who was standing behind it.

Harry was standing in front of me, wearing a black hooding over his blue jeans. `TPWK’ was written in white letters, and he looked snuggly and warm. His hair was messy as if he had run his fingers through it more than once and he was offering me a sheepish smile, looking at me just as if he knew he wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Hi,” he said.

“Harry, the hotel staff signs NDAs. No one is telling anyone I’m not sleeping in your bed.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that,” he shrugged off.

“Then, what? There’s no one in here, you can’t humiliate me more.”

“I’m sorry, Sof, I’m so sorry.”

“Not enough.” I went to close the door, but he was quicker than me and held it open until he could get into the room, walking inside as I made my way back to my bed, where I sat down and looked at him. “Did she kick you out of her bed? Or did she not invite you in?”

“She did invite me in,” Harry said reluctantly, avoiding my eyes as he leaned back on the wall and stuck his fingers inside of the large pocket of his hoodie. I felt something breaking inside me, like a fancy platter that had fallen at the bottom of my feet and had shattered in a billion pieces, one large shard poking my chest sharply. What was that? What had broken down and how could I fix it?

“Why did you come then?”

“Cause I wanted to sleep with you,” Harry shrugged off. His face was somehow sad, and I wished my chest wasn’t burning, so I could comfort him, brush my fingers through his hair and tell him it was ok. That I was there for him. “You calm me down. I mean, you drive me fucking crazy, but...yeah…is easier to sleep when I’m with you.”

It would’ve been so much easier if I had just asked him to go, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. I looked at him and sighed, getting up from the bed so he could lie down.

“You can stay,” I whispered, before getting myself into the covers, and laying on my side to look at the wall.

Harry took a minute before he followed me, stripping off to his underwear and putting my things away before he got himself into bed. He did it quietly and carefully, almost as if he were afraid to remind me that he was still there.

“Sof…” Harry talked after a while when I was already falling asleep, and I hummed in response. “Were you as jealous as I was?

“Were you jealous?”

“Yeah...wanted to kick his fucking ass.”

Oh, how sad was that it made me smile.

***

He knew how to apologize.

I had woken up with his arms around me and his face nuzzled into the crook of my neck. The ends of his hair made me ticklish as they brushed against my skin, and I let my fingers caress the back of his hand as he snuck it under my shirt and put it over my tummy.

He was being careful, soft, slow, giving me a chance to wake up to his kisses.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as I fluttered my eyes open. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know, but it’s too early to be mad.”

“Are you suggesting I pause it?” I turned around to look at him and his hand fell on the small of my back, sliding down the curve of my ass to let it rest there.

“Yeah, so we can kiss a little.” His lips met mine in a soft kiss and I smiled as he broke it apart, nuzzling his nose against mine. “You can be mad at me again at noon.”

“At noon?” I whispered and my fingers brushed over his neck, playing with the little hairs on the nape of it and I pulled him closer. His smile grew playful and he scooted closer, ready to kiss me again. That was all I wanted, to kiss him as many times as I could before he left. To not give him up a second earlier than I absolutely had to.

He started with the neck, trailing sweet kisses down to my collarbones. I could feel his warm breath as his plump lips pressed on my skin and I sighed as the tip of his fingers brushed over the curve of my waist. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of his touch, the electric currents that rushed down my body because of him.

I parted my lips as Harry decided to look at me again, and I melted under his smile and the sight of his short curls falling over his face as he hovered over me. He was propping himself up on his arms and he had me trapped against the bed, with nowhere to go and nowhere to look but him. My fingers curled around his forearms and I shifted until his legs were between mine and he was tipping his head down to kiss me fully on the lips.

I kissed him back, enjoying the taste of his mouth and the weight of his body on top of mine. My hips rose to meet his and I moaned at the pressure and his rhythmic movements as he kissed me.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered hoarsely as he broke the kiss and I wrapped my legs around him and started to rock my hips to feel him better. “Do you like rubbing yourself on my cock, baby?”

“Take off your boxers,” I pleaded. “I wanna feel it.”

I knew he was trouble.

Without saying another word, he dipped his head down, finding my collarbones to nibble on it for a second, as his hands pushed my shirt up and I rose my arms so he could take it off. I was soon in just my underwear, sports bra and a pair of flower-printed cotton panties, and Harry sat back, letting me prop myself up so I could remove my top. He was devouring me with his eyes, looking attentively at every inch of my body, which made me feel shy.

My first instinct was to cover myself when I dropped the top on the floor, but he was quicker, pulling my arms away to stop me from doing so.

“S’just me, love.”

His kisses were sweet as we both fell back to bed, my legs on each side of his body as he slowly made his way down my chest. Each new kiss was soft and urgent at the same time and only added to the fire that was building in my tummy.

I was getting wet and he hadn’t really touched me.

“I like your knickers,” Harry smirked as he looked down my body, a glint of amusement shining in his eyes as I winced.

“I didn’t think anyone would see them.”

“Let’s take’em off, then.”

I sucked in air as his fingers hooked around the waistband of my panties and he shimmied them off. The night was cold and I shivered, not really sure if it was because of it or the fact that he was looking at me with hunger in his eyes.

“Look at me,” he commanded and I obeyed, watching as he hovered over me, to dip his head down to my chest and trap a nipple between his lips. The warmth of his tongue and the cold air made me hiss, but soon it didn’t matter, cause he was sucking on it and the feeling of it all was driving me crazy. He nibbled on my skin and soothed with kisses, and I arched my back to feel him closer, pushing my hips down so I could meet his.

“Fuck, I love your tits,” he murmured, pulling away from me briefly, and only to play with the other.

My eyes snapped wide open when his fingers blindly reached my center. He was still focused on my chest, licking wide stripes on the swell of it, and letting his lips close around the soft skin. I was sure I was gonna get bruises from it.

But he seemed to know what he was doing. The tip of his fingers grazed down my slit, pushing lightly down my center only to move to meet my clit. He was soft with his touch, almost teasing. He drew slow circles on it, barely applying any pressure, and, as he felt the first clench of my walls, he let his finger slide down to play with my pulsing entrance.

I could take my eyes off of him, I wanted to drink everything, to remember it for the times when I was alone in my room.

His smile grew wider as it became easier for him to rub my clit, cause I was wet, dripping actually, and he looked down to see. His fingers were glistening when he pulled them up and he took them to his mouth to lick them clean. I felt myself shiver.

“Let me taste ya, yeah?”

It was more a warning than a question, cause he didn’t wait for my answer before moving down to slot himself between my legs.

This was more than kissing just a little.

I closed my eyes at the feeling of his kisses on the inner part of my thigh, his fingers pressing to the back of it so he could trail his lips up until he reached the top. He sucked on the skin and let his tongue soothe it as anticipation grew on me. I felt like I could burst out at any second, my whole body was pulsing in need.

I propped myself up on my elbows, parted lips and jaded breath, and looked at him as he finally buried his face between my legs and his tongue met my center. He was slow, tasting me as if he wanted to remember that moment forever. It felt like we had all the time in the world and the only thing we needed to do was to enjoy it.

“Fuck.”

My fingers knotted in his hair as he licked a stripe down my slit. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be doing, other than looking at him. His hot breath fanned over my wet center and I shivered, letting my mouth hang open as he wrapped his mouth around my throbbing clit.

I closed my eyes, letting the overwhelming feeling win. It was a pressure, a delightful one, that had built in the lower part of my tummy, pulsing and waiting for its moment of glory. I let myself fall down the bed, shivering as Harry pressed his large hands on my hips, keeping me still as he let his tongue curl around my clit one more time.

“Look at me, baby,” Harry murmured one more time and I lazily fluttered my eyes open, looking at his dark green eyes as he continued to savor me, lick by lick.

“Fuck, Harry!”

It was a lot more intense than I remembered it, maybe because he had something to prove and something to make me forget about. When my legs trembled on each side of his face, he slowed down, letting the tip of his tongue circle around my entrance to give me some time to rest.

He looked at me again, his nose pressing down on my pubic bone as he went to play with my clit again. I was losing my mind.

Harry released his grip on my hips, which I took as my opportunity to rock them on his face, so his nose would bump against my clit, and his tongue felt thick sliding down my slit. I made circles with my hips until my walls were clenching and a firey bliss was consuming me. My legs tensed as I pushed my hips up, and Harry held me there, with his hands on my ass, and his skilled tongue working fast and deep in my center.

“Fuck, you taste good,” was all he managed to say, all I could hear at least, cause I was slowly slipping away, allowing my body to be overtaken by something new, some kind of bliss and euphoria I had never felt before, not even with him.

I came down to the bed and pinched my eyes shut as Harry continued to work on me, softly and slowly, as if he were cleaning the last remains of my high. I trembled with every new lick, my legs shaking as I felt the ghost of the pleasure I just felt still pulsing between my walls.

“Let me kiss you,” I begged when he hovered over me again, and he smiled for a second before pressing his lips to mine. As he laid down on top of me, I could feel his clammy skin feeling feverish under the tips of my fingers. He was hard, I felt him pressing down my slit, and he hissed when I moved to feel him better, completely naked and wet for him as I was.

The kiss was lazy and deep, and I could taste myself on the tip of his tongue, a weird feeling that I somehow enjoyed. His tongue played with mine, and we moved in a rhythmic dance, that made him moan and writhe his hips against mine.

I felt empty when he rolled himself onto the bed, and I pulled the covers up to hide in them. He smiled when he turned to the side and saw me completely covered in sheets. Not a part of me was to be seen.

“C’mere, baby, I still have a few hours before noon.”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry smut #harry styles one shot #harry writing #hs #writing #1dff #harry styles fanfiction #hi babies #i'm sorry #i hope you read it #and like it #let me know if you do

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bittysvalentines · 5 years ago

Text

How to deal with your ex like the adult you are

From @yoshiscribbles

To @thatsclassicsbaby

Rating: G. Relationships: Bitty/Parse, past Jack/Parse, pre Bitty/Jack/Parse. Tags: coffee shop au, trans bitty, trans parse, developing relationship, established relationship.

I hope you enjoy this fic! I had a lot of fun writing it and tried to incorporate elements you seemed to like, so enjoy :D

The door to the kitchen of the coffee shop slammed open and Bitty turned his head to see his boyfriend plastering his back against the door. Most of Kent’s face was blank, but there was a look of utter panic in his eyes that nearly made Bitty abandon the puffed pastry he was working on. Kent opened his mouth before Bitty could ask what was wrong.

“We can’t work here anymore.”

Bitty blinked, because that made absolutely no sense. “What are you talking about sweetpea, you love it here.”

Finishing up, Bitty folded the pastry before moving to put it back in the refrigerator, which incidentally brought him closer to Kent. The other boy had pushed himself off the door and was now pacing agitatedly in Bitty’s kitchen. “Okay, you can still work here. And so can I, I guess, but I can’t go back to the front.”

Bitty chanced a look at the front through the small round windows in the double doors that led to the kitchen, but there didn’t seem to be anything special going on. Certainly nothing that would warrant this reaction from Kent at least.

"The guy,” Kent said helpfully, though he still didn’t move from his prostrated position on the ground. “With a square jaw and stupidly blue eyes and that perfect fucking hair and-"

Kent stopped himself with a groan, but Bitty felt like it wasn't because he had run out of material to talk about. The description was perfect though, because wow, the guy near the corner did have a perfect jaw, and hair that looked soft, and when he raised his head Bitty ducked under the windows too because those piercing blue eyes sure were something.

"So it's not just me, is it?"

Kent's commiserating voice let Bitty breathe properly again as he realised that his heart was beating far too fast for no discernable reason. "Does he always look at you like-"

Bitty couldn't find the words to express the feeling, but Kent and him were on the same wavelength as usual. "Like you're the sole focus of his attention, yeah."

And this time, Bitty realised that something was wrong, because Kent usually never sounded despondent when they were both noticing a boy like that. He stood up and moved closer to his boyfriend.

"Okay, what did he do?" Bitty asked in all seriousness. He pulled Kent into his arms and the other boy moved easily enough. The tension in Ken's sturdy frame seemed to lessen as Bitty breathed with him, and he eventually answered the hug.

"We... used to date, Kent said eventually. And it hadn’t ended well judging by the way Kent was still refusing to look Bitty in the eyes.

Bitty chased every good thought he'd had about the man's attractiveness out of his mind. "Want me to kick him out?" he asked, though he wasn't expecting a positive answer. After all, Kent knew how much Bitty abhorred confrontation, and kicking that guy out without due cause would certainly count as such. As he’d expected, Kent shook his head in refusal.

They stayed like that for a few more moments, and it thankfully seemed like the ex wasn’t planning on staying in the coffee shop for long. The next time Bitty looked through the windows, Kent’s ex was gone, much to both their relief.

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

Unfortunately, it seemed like the appearance of Kent’s ex wasn’t a coincidence the first time, but was instead the beginning of a new habit. Bitty usually wouldn’t mind, except that this was Kent’s ex and Bitty was thus contractually obligated to hate him on principle. This also wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t for the café’s dreadful lack of clientele at 7 in the morning, which coupled with Bitty’s southern upbringing, forced him to make small talk with the man under pain of disappointing his mental mama Bittle. Actually talking to the guy emphatically did not improve things however.

“All of this would be so much easier if he was actually rude,” Bitty eventually complained to Chowder, who had the misfortune of being the only person in the vicinity other than Kent once the ex left.

“But he isn’t?” Chowder asked, but Bitty was too busy moping over how terrible of a boyfriend he was being to try and process what undercurrent of emotion the other boy had added in his tone.

“But he isn’t.” In fact, Kent’s ex – and Bitty was determined not to call him Jack despite having been given explicit permission to do so by the man himself – had been nothing but polite to Bitty, and even tipped generously, the bastard! How was Bitty supposed to hold on to his dislike in such a case?

“Talking to Kent might work?” Chowder’s reply had Bitty realizing that he must have said part of his inner monologue out loud and he flushed. Chowder waved away his attempts at apologies and simply continued. “That’s his ex, right? If they broke up, Kent must have tons of reasons as to why it didn’t work, and they might help you like him less.”

“Chowder, you are a genius!” Elated, Bitty engulfed the younger boy into a hug, nearly choking him with the force of his embrace.

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

Kent looked up as the doors to the apartment he shared with his boyfriend opened. He would usually have waited for Bitty to be done so that they could leave the coffee shop together, but he’d had an appointment with his endocrinologist that afternoon and had to leave earlier. Bitty crossed the threshold, arms laden with groceries and looking slightly dumbfounded. Kent chuckled and moved to help him.

“You look like you’ve discovered the answers to the universe, what gives?”

If Kent hadn’t been looking at his boyfriend, he might have missed the way his expression faltered slightly before coming back to normal. As it was, he had nothing to distract him from Bitty’s face and he didn’t much like what he saw.

It seemed like Bitty had learned that there wasn’t much he could do to keep Kent from finding out what he was feeling, for he relented. He greeted Kent with a kiss and crossed the room to put down the groceries in the kitchen. “It’s about your ex.”

Kent grimaced even as he tried to ignore the pang in his chest that resurfaced every time he thought about Jack. It had been years already – 3 years and 7 months, not that Kent was counting – and yet his reaction still hadn’t abated.

He knew Bitty wouldn't push, especially not if Kent insisted, but maybe it was time to face his problems instead of spending another two weeks hiding in the kitchen like his life depended on it every time he caught a glimpse of Jack. "Shoot," he sighed, though he put on a cocky smirk to put his boyfriend at ease.

Bitty didn't seem impressed, but he still continued. He seemed to hesitate over his words, strangely enough. Kent briefly wondered how terrible the question he was going to ask had to be to cause this reaction. "I need you to give me all the reasons you can think of to hate him," Bitty said in a rush, as though the words were fighting to come out of his mouth.

"You... what?"

Kent's nonplussed answer must have opened a dam, because Bitty transformed under his widening eyes. The other boy spoke too fast, moving his arms so much as he ranted that the sleeves of his shirt slid down to reveal the strap of his binder. Kent managed to catch something about Jack, and nice, and too much hockey, and tips, and polite maybe? By the time the rant was over, he did have a very good idea about what the problem was, and grimaced slightly as he considered his answer.

"Yeah, Itsy?" Bitty turned, facing Kent again, and he opened his mouth. "Yeah, he's not- I can't really help you with that." Kent admitted wistfully. "We didn't break up because he was terrible or anything, it was..."

He raised his hand to make some kind of gesture, to try to illustrate his feelings, but eventually let it fall down after it having hovered in the air. What was there to say? That they’d broken up because they were both in terrible states, which in turn made them terrible for each other? He sighed, before leaning against Bitty’s shoulder, who’d approached to stand at his side. Reaching out for his boyfriend’s hand, Kent looked at their entangled fingers and tried to voice his thoughts.

“He hated himself and closed himself off, I hated myself and lashed out, it built up along with other factors until…” Kent interrupted himself, not wanting to be the one to tell Bitty about Jack’s overdose. It wasn’t his place after all, and Bitty really didn’t have to know. “Something happened,” he continued instead. He shrugged. Turned his head to look Bitty in the eye. “We never officially broke up, I guess, but we never saw each other again and eventually moved away.”

Kent had thought he’d gotten over the whole train of events, but even years later there was still an ache in his chest when he thought about Jack. That, and he had to admit that his inability to face Jack didn’t solely come from the awkwardness of facing an ex.

“Nonono, Kent!” Bitty was pleading in that way that let Kent know he was being a drama queen rather than genuinely distressed. He even swooned toward Kent, and Kent couldn’t help the small laughter that escaped him at the sight. It was far too obvious that he was trying to dispel the tension, but Kent still felt grateful for it, ridiculous as his boyfriend was being. It was working after all.

“You were supposed to help me hate your ex, not make me feel sad for the both of you” Bitty protested, though he was also smiling slightly now that the tension had been released.

Kent shook his head fondly and lowered his face to Bitty’s hair, breathing in his familiar scent. “Sorry Bitsy, he’s just that great.”

The tranquil atmosphere couldn’t last for that long though, not when Kent knew he’d let too much of his feelings show with the way he spoke.

“You still love him,” Bitty said eventually, and Kent flinched as he realised that it wasn’t a question. And he couldn’t in all honesty deny the statement.

“I love you,” he said instead. Even to his ears the words sounded like an exrather than honest, even if he meant every single one of them.

Still, Bitty didn’t push him away. He didn’t even let go of the reassuring hold he had on Kent’s shoulder. Instead, he kept holding Kent close and used his free hand to guide Kent’s chin until they were locking gazes together again.

“I never doubted that for a second, Kent,” Bitty said, and the words were fierce in a way that made Kent’s eyes mist over a little. “And I love you too, no matter what your feelings towards Jack may be.”

Kent couldn’t keep looking Bitty in the eyes like this. Not when he felt like his heart had grown three sizes and he had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling. Not when the weight and guilt he’d unconsciously felt piling on his shoulder seemed to have lightened with his boyfriend’s tacit approval and unconditional love. Not when he knew Bitty would support his decision no matter what it would be.

Sniffling a little, Kent engulfed Bitty into a hug and hid his face into his boyfriend’s neck, relishing in the soothing motion a steady hand on his back.

“You should talk to him,” Bitty whispered near his ear. Kent couldn’t see his face, but his voice was tremulous, like he was holding back tears too. “There’s enough place in your heart for more than just little me, and you could see where you want to go from there, alright?”

This time, it was Kent’s turn to pull back a little until he could press his forehead on Bitty’s own. “You’ve never been “just” anything to me,” he whispered hoarsely against Bitty’s lips. He closed the distance between their mouths to press them together gently for a few moments. “And if there’s a future out there that doesn’t include you I don’t want it.

“Kent Parson!” Bitty exclaimed with a tearful burst of laughter. “You are not allowed to make me cry in my own goddamn apartment!”

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

It took a while for Kent to put Bitty’s advice into action. Bitty didn’t even push, even when Kent kept conveniently finding tasks to do in the kitchen where he could remain out of view of the customers. Jack must have seen him at least once by this point, unless he had truly become more oblivious to the way he affected people with time. It had to come to a breaking point eventually though.

“Okay, this can’t go on like this I’m going out.”

“Kent, are you-”

But Kent didn’t let Bitty finish his sentence before he’d headed off towards the table that had become Jack’s usual since his first visit to the café. Jack didn’t look up as Kent approached, nose buried in what was probably a history book, knowing him. He did raise his head however when Kent stopped near his table and didn’t move.

“Hey.” The word left his mouth like a prayer and a curse all at once. It was also like exhaling a sigh of relief, and Kent felt all the better for it even as he felt his senses narrow until everything outside of Jack and himself felt dulled.

Kent had been very careful about not stalking Jack on the various kind of social networks available to him, and maybe this was why he was so taken aback by the intensity of those blue eyes. Jack’s eyes looked Kent over with a clinical gaze for a few moments, and Kent felt ice begin to cover him as he pondered the possibility that Jack might have forgotten him entirely. After all, it had been years since they’d seen each other, he’d gotten on hormones since he’d broken up with Jack and though he wasn’t unrecognizable there were still some sizeable changes there. What if Jack had never tried contacting Kent because he truly didn’t care? This entire thing was a terrible idea, Kent should have remained in the kitchen after all.

After what seemed like too long, Jack finally opened his mouth, recognition replacing the confusion in that cold gaze. “Kenny?” said Jack, looking him up and down, and Kent felt the full weight of that stare on him. He didn’t answer verbally – couldn’t get his voice to work suddenly – but his expression must have talked enough for him because Jack suddenly looked both relieved and deeply uncomfortable. They stared at each other in silence, neither of them willing to break it.

“You, euh, you have thighs,” Jack eventually said.

Kent just. Stared. Well no, that wasn’t exactly what he did. He looked at his thighs first and noticed that yes, he did in fact have them, but then he let his gaze climb back up and stared at Jack. To be fair, the other man seemed as confused as Kent about the words that came out of his own mouth, so Kent decided to give him some leeway. Before he could speak, Jack hastened to correct himself.

“Not that you didn’t before, it’s just-” Jack gestured vaguely in the direction of Kent’s legs, and Kent couldn’t believe he still felt some sort of fondness for that awkward mess of a boy. “They got bigger since we-”

“Yeah,” Kent interrupted before Jack could mention their failed attempt at a relationship. “Um, I took up hockey again? And I work out too so…”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, and Kent couldn’t take it anymore. He broke their staredown and turned on his feet, speed walking out of there as fast as he could.

Bitty was hands deep in a new batch of what looked like croissants when Kent opened the door, so Kent hovered at his side and waited for him to finish before he spoke. “Okay, we need to move on to plan B.”

“Plan B, what plan B?” Bitty asked confusedly. Then his face split up in a delighted smile. “Oh, you talked to Jack! How did it go?”

Kent waved his concerns away. “We talked, but now we need plan B,” Kent repeated, and he couldn’t believe Bitty hadn’t understood him the first time. “Which is the one where you talk to him in my place, because I can’t focus when his face is just… Right there!”

“Oh honey,” was Bitty’s answer, accompanied by one of Bitty’s commiserating faces and a hand pressed over his heart. That’s when Kent knew that his plan of simply avoiding Jack until Bitty fixed his relationship would not succeed and he’d have to actually talk to the man himself.

#bv2020 #bitty's valentines #bittykent #bittyjackkent

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thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis · 5 years ago

Photo

Bernadette Lucielle Baudelaire

The Five Times Klaus Smiled at/about Bernadette and the One Time He Didn’t

One

Klaus walked through the compound, sort of aimlessly as his family had all gone their separate ways for the day, leaving him by his lonesome in the New Orleans home. Or at least he thought he was alone until he was walking passed one of the smaller libraries and heard mumbling behind the doors. Klaus stopped and listened more carefully, his hybrid hearing kicking in to hear the mumbling was carried by Bernadette’s voice.

He slowly opened the door to see her sitting next to the fireplace, books piled around her like anthills. Her hands moved in what he has learned is called a “tutting” spell-casting, her fingers moving into intricate angles as the witch continued her incantation.

“Ex spiritum in taculum, en terrum incendium, phasmatos salves a distum.” Klaus watched with a smile as the fire behind her increased and decreased as she went through the spell-casting. Here she was, practicing her magic instead of enjoying the great Louisiana day they were having. But he should have known, Bernadette always came off as a bookworm when it came to magic. “Klaus?”

Klaus snapped out of his reverie and looked over to Bernadette who was no longer doing magic but watching him with a smirk on her face. “Hello, little bird.”

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was just wandering around the compound when I came upon your little alcove. Did I disturb you?” He asked, his signature smirk coming on his face as he leaned against the doorway. Bernadette chuckled and moved the book that was on her lap to the side as she stood up.

“No, not really. I actually needed a break.” She said, stretching her arms over her head and accidentally raising her shirt over her stomach. The smooth skin caught Klaus’s eye for a second, but he looked away and pushed off from the doorway.

“Well, why don’t we go out? We can go get some beignets at the Cafe Du Monde.”

“Really?”

“Anything you want, love.”

Two

“Thanks, Rebekah.”

Klaus walked into the sitting room on the second floor only to see his dear sister hugging Bernadette on the couch, both girls clearly oblivious to his presence. Rebekah pulled away and smiled at the witch, “No need for that. Just save me a day this week and we can go out and cheer you up.”

“Sure.” Bernadette sent a small smile her way, one that caught Klaus’s attention because he knew that wasn’t her normal happy smile. When Rebekah got up from the couch, both girls finally noticed Klaus in the room.

“Nik, what a surprise.”

“It shouldn’t be because it is my home as well.”

Rebekah rolled her eyes and walked towards passed him with a pat on his arm and out of the room, leaving him alone with Bernadette.

“You know, you’ve been getting into the habit of lurking in the doorways of rooms. Coming off as a little creepy.” Bernadette said with that smile again, the one that was now getting on Klaus’s nerves. Klaus chuckled as he walked further into the room and sat in the chair adjacent to Bernadette.

“Are you going to tell me what’s got you so upset or am I going to have to turn to my dear sister for an answer?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” Bernadette moved to touch her face, and then Klaus noticed that she was checking to make sure there were no more tears on her face. She had been crying. “Just some jackass who stood me up at Rousseau's.”

“A date?”

Bernadette scoffs, “It’s stupid, I know. It was just some guy I met earlier this week. He was really cute and-and he asked me out for drinks. And then he doesn’t show up. I mean, who does that? Who asks someone out and then doesn’t show up?”

“An absolute arse that’s who,” Klaus said, rolling his eyes as a wave of anger bubbled in his chest. How a man could treat a woman like that, treat her like that, left him dumbfounded. “An arse who does not deserve your tears.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bernadette wiped her tears. She let out another chuckle and sniffled, trying to calm down but Klaus could tell that being stood up, being rejected like that, hit some sort of nerve in her.

“Oh, come on, little bird. Let me see that smile of yours. Seeing you like this is like a stake to the heart.”

She looked over to Klaus and a small smile came on her face, not her true smile that Klaus was almost desperate to see but it was getting there. “Oh, and what you would do about it?”

“Love,” Klaus leaned closer to Bernadette, keeping his smoldering eyes connected with hers, “I would give you the moon and the stars if I could. Just to see that smile.”

And then finally, Bernadette slowly let the corners of her mouth lift until she was smiling at him, and Klaus felt a weight he didn't even know he had, lift-off his heart.

Three

Klaus watched as Bernadette paced the library, a look of anger on her face as she moved back and forth with her arms crossed and muscles tense. He had just gotten back from a little skirmish with the New Orleans witches, and it left him covered in his own blood. He was fine now, thanks to whoever for vampire healing, but his shirt was still slick with his blood. Elijah and Rebekah were also in the room, trying to come up with a plan of attack.

“Bloody witches,” Rebekah mumbled, shaking her head. Bernadette stopped her pacing and coughed, getting Rebekah to look over to her friend and for in a rare moment, Rebekah looked sheepish, “Sorry, love.”

“No no, you’re right. They’re bloody witches, but they do have a right to be mad. They’ve been pushed into a corner with no magic and now they want to fight back.” Bernadette said as she started to pace again.

Elijah sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly tired of all this mayhem. He turns back to his brother and watched as Klaus’s eyes seemed to follow Bernadette’s worried steps. “Well, this is definitely something we are going to have to...talk to them about. But we’ll leave that for tomorrow.”

“Elijah-”

“Brother, give us a night to calm down and then we can handle this properly.”

Klaus huffed and watched as Elijah and Rebekah leave the library, leaving Bernadette alone with him. She has stopped her pacing, but now won’t face him at all. “Bernadette. Love, look at me.”

Bernadette waited a few more seconds before turning around to face Klaus. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, finally making direct eye contact with him. Klaus smiled, warmed up a little even with her looking at him so coldly. After a few more seconds of silence, Bernadette sighed and looked down at her feet, her shoulders sagging. Images of Klaus being attacked with spells and seeing all that blood really rocked Bernadette to her core, and she didn’t know how she should feel about that.

“I am surprised by your behavior, little bird. It is almost like your worried about me.” Klaus said, chuckling as Bernadette looked back up. What really surprised him was that there was an emotion behind her mahogany brown eyes that actually did look like worry.

“Why is that so shocking to you?” Bernadette asked. She took a few steps forward to Klaus, the smell of his blood all over his clothes so strong she could taste it. Once she was only a couple inches from him, she placed her hand on his cheek, her thumb rubbing against some flaked-dried blood. Klaus had to try his hardest not to fall into the warmth of her hand, the smoothness of her skin driving him crazy with so many feelings.

“It is odd to believe anyone would truly worry about someone like me.”

“Well, you don’t have to think like that anymore. Because I do worry about you, Klaus.”

Bernadette held onto his face a little longer before letting it fall to her side and walking out of the room. And leaving Klaus to wonder why his cheek burned from her touch but was also cold now that it was gone.

Four

The compound was quiet once again as Rebekah had taken Bernadette out to “cheer her up” after she had been stood up last week. Every time Klaus thought of how upset she was about the whole thing made him bubble with anger. Only the last few days, that anger has been mixing with a feeling he didn’t feel all too often; jealousy. His feelings for a Ms. Bernadette Baudelaire have been mixing and changing ever since he cornered her thinking she was a part of the New Orleans coven. But when he found out she and her magic were from Massachusetts and were not linked to the witches hellbent on killing him and his family, he asked of her help. After that, their relationship has morphed through many phases; strangers to acquaintances, to comrades and friends, to now this place of mixed emotions and touches that make him crave more.

Klaus was reading in his room when the compound doors closed loudly and the giggles and laughter of his dear sister and Bernadette echoed off the walls of the courtyard. He smirked as he got up and walked out to the landing to watch a tipsy Rebekah ushering a very drunk Bernadette through the space, Bernadette nearly hanging off Rebekah giggling away.

“What have you done now, Rebekah?” Klaus called out as the two reached the stairs, both turning their heads in drunken exaggeration. Bernadette’s eyes lit up and her hands stretched over her head like a child.

“KLAUS!! Klaus is here! Rebekah, Klaus is here!”

“Oh, Nik, why do you blame me for this?”

Klaus laughed and looked back at them, his smirk starting to turn into a smile as he watched Bernadette’s reaction to his presence. “Because going out was your idea, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. That does not make this my fault.” Rebekah said as she held onto her drunk friend, “Bernadette has the strength of a Mikaelson but not the alcohol tolerance of one.”

Both vampires turned their heads when Bernadette moved from Rebekah’s hold and shakily started up the stone steps, her balance making Klaus uneasy. Just as she started to tip too far one way, Klaus was by her side keeping her straight. With Bernadette’s lagging mind, she looked to where Klaus had been two seconds ago and to where he was now, utterly shocked and confused even though she had seen him use his vampire speed many times. “Wow! You-you have to show me how to d-do that one day, Klauuuuus.” Her stretching his name at the end of her sentence, Klaus had to hold back another smile.

“Okay, my little drunken bird. I think it is time for bed.”

“Noooooooo.” Bernadette pouted as Klaus picked her up into his arms. Even though she was pouting at going to sleep, Bernadette still curled into his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Klaus gave one more look to his sister then started to walk back up the stairs. “BYE REBEKAH!!”

“Goodnight, Bernadette.”

Klaus got to the landing and walked passed the library to Bernadette’s room. It was like the other bedrooms in the house, decked with gold accents and heirloom-like decor but with a hint of a royal blue color that was unique to the room. Books upon books were stacked around the room in tiny piles on the floor and bedside table, making Klaus smile. He finally reached her bed and set her down gently, her body settling into the pillows and blankets. Klaus took off her heels and threw them somewhere in the room, before pulling a knitted blanket Bernadette had owned before moving it over her body. Just as he was about to leave, Bernadette sat up. Her eyes were blurry from her state but still connected to Klaus’s, making him smile warmly at her.

“Klaus, Klaus can I ask you a question?” She mumbled as she settled back into her bed, her eyes looking like they were going to shut at any moment.

“I don’t see why not.” It took Bernadette a second, but when she asked her question, it showed him that Bernadette might like to surprise him.

“Can I start calling you Nik?”

Klaus watched her as her eyes tried to stay open but it looked like the alcohol won and she shut her eyes, her body relaxing and her heart slowing down to tell Klaus that she had fallen asleep. He walked over to her bed, watching her as she seemed so vulnerable, something he wasn’t used to seeing from her. Klaus leaned over and kissed her forehead, holding it there for a second before pressing his own forehead to hers.

“Anything you want, love.”

Five

An explosion of wood splinters flew around in the air as Klaus was slammed into an outside table, landing on the cobblestone ground with a grunt. From the building he was in just before walks out some low-life werewolf strutting through the door like he had already won the fight. Klaus could feel blood starting to drip from his nose but just got up off the ground and stood up, not wiping away the blood now dripping off his chin and staining the ground.

“This can all end now, Mikaelson. Leave New Orleans, never return, and I wan’t have to tear you a part.” the werewolf mocked, cracking his knuckles in some attempt to scare Klaus.

“You’re right, this can all end now. But it will go with me pulling your heart from your chest.”

The werewolf growled and was just about to charge when his body went stiff and then he slumped down to the ground. Klaus looked at the wolf’s back and noticed that nothing was bleeding, nothing looked to be like he was hurt other than the scrapes and bruises from Klaus’s fists. Klaus looked through the door way to the building and out of the shadows walked Bernadette. Her wavy brown hair was moving as the wind hit her face, her eyes meeting Klaus’s quickly before she looked down to the werewolf on the ground. “Did I get him?”

Klaus raised an eyebrow at her, before listening in on the werewolf’s heartbeat which was slowly beating away. “What did you do?”

“Its a new spell I wanted to try out. Basically he’s trapped in his worst nightmares and can’t wake up until I wake him up.” Bernadette smiled as she tapped the werewolf with her foot before making it to Klaus.

“How are you here? You were with Camille at Rousseau’s last time we talked.”

“I-I can’t really explain it, I just had a feeling in my gut. You said you were going to look for whoever was killing people and framing you guys so I did a tracking spell and found you.”

Klaus looked at her, surprise yet again on his features. “Are you telling me you just showed up because you could sense something was wrong?”

Bernadette started to look unsure, her voice wavering a bit as she replied, “Yeah?”

A smile slowly creeped onto his face, stunned by just how powerful she was. His little bird. “You are wonderful, darling. But next time, please stay out of the fighting bit, alright?”

“I’m strong enough to hold my own.”

“I never said you couldn’t. I just rather not in danger’s grasp anytime soon.”

Bernadette flushed for a second, then smiled at Klaus. “Alright.”

“Wonderful. Now, lets get this werewolf back to the compound. I feel like him and I will be having a good chat after you wake him from his sweet dreams.”

One

Klaus awoke to water being thrown in his face, his eyes flying open as he gasped for breath. It took him a second before he realized he was chained up to some structure, his arms held out straight a part like he was Jesus on the cross. In front of him was Marcel, a boy who grew and became as close to him as a son before he betrayed him and his family to, ironically, his family. Davina was a little ways away with her angry little eyes watching Klaus closely, waiting to use her magic if anything were to happen.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Marcel said, his smile mocking Klaus as he paraded around what looked to be the new home to Marcel and his vampires.

“Marcelus, why am I not surprised? You know, there is such a thing as a text if you needed to talk to me so urgently.”

Marcel laughed, but then turned to Klaus more directly and narrowed his eyes. “True. But I think this is a more direct approach to get what I want.”

“And that is?”

“New Orleans.”

Klaus laughed and tried to pull on his chains but to no avail. “Really, Marcel. You just can’t accept defeat like you should. How many times do I have to beat you before you stay beat?”

“I think I have the advantage this time. With Rebekah gone and Elijah occupied with your baby momma. It looks as if everyone as left you. Again.” Just as Klaus was about to respond, Marcel cut him off. “Oh, and that little witch of yours. Bernadette, was it?”

Klaus stopped and watched Marcel, Bernadette’s name off his lips was like a stake to the heart. “Where is she?”

“Oh, one of my guys took good care of her. You don’t need to worry.”

Klaus hung his head as Marcel continued to talk, his fists tightening and anger grew in his chest. Flashes of Bernadette appeared before him; moments that he cherished with her smiling, pouting, worrying and just making his life worth living again.

Davina had looked away for a second as Marcel kept talking, that one look away gave Klaus the chance he needed. He lifted his head, his hybrid eyes glaring daggers at the two who had captured him and brought his arms down hard, snapping the chains keeping him still. With his vampire speed, he quickly snapped Marcel’s neck and before Davina could react with her magic, Klaus pushed Davina to the nearest wall, knocking her unconscious. Before rushing off, Klaus stood over Marcel, “I will deal with you later, Marcelus.” And rushed off.

Klaus zoomed around the building, looking in every room for any clues that Bernadette was there. Hus heart was beating out of his hybrid chest, from the running but more from his worry getting worse and worse. The basement door caught his eye and he ripped the door open, rushing down and looking around the dank, dark room. And then there on the floor was Bernadette.

She was lying in a crumpled heap, and Klaus could smell blood coming from somewhere on her. Klaus rushed to her side, gently picking up and pulling her onto his lap. Once he put his hand under her head, he could feel the blood dripping through his fingers, they must have surprised her, dammit. Klaus bit his wrist and put it to her lips, letting the blood go down her throat and do its healing work. Bernadette stuttered as the blood caught in her throat, but Klaus shushed her and petted her hair, trying to calm her down, “Drink up, love. It will all be okay soon.”

Bernadette eventually pulled away from Klaus’s arm, taking a breath and fluttering her eyes to look at Klaus. Once their eyes connected, Bernadette let out a breath of relief and smiled at Klaus. “Hey Nik.”

“Hey little bird, want to get out of here?”

“My legs aren’t really listening to me right now.” Bernadette said, her breathy voice chuckling in her weakened state.

“No need to worry about that. I’ve got you.” Klaus sent her a small smile and wrapped his arms around her and picked her up bridal style. Much like the time he got her to her room when she was drunk, Bernadette relaxed into Klaus’s touch, gripping onto his jacket. Klaus looked down at her, pulled her close to him and kissed her head. The reality that she was hurt and could have died from that head wound settled in, and he didn’t like that feeling. “I’ve always got you.”

#the originals #oc #klaus x oc #bernadette baudelaire #klaus mikaelson #klaus x bernadette #thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis writing #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #marcel #davina claire #writing #the originals oc #fc: stella maeve

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vincess-princess · 5 years ago

Text

ex malo bonum

behold, the dumpsterfire of a fic i’ve been obsessing over for the last week.

Fandom: Motley Crue Characters, pairings: demon!Nikki Sixx, demon!Tommy Lee, demon!Mick Mars, fallen angel!Vince Neil, Nikki/Vince, elements of Tommy/Vince and hints of Nikki/Tommy Rating: Explicit Warnings (please pay attention!!!): violence, non-con, drug use mention, alcohol mention, self-harm tendencies, suicide attempts, murder Summary: Vince thought he knew where fallen angels go and what they become. But he never expected to go through something like that. A/N: I’m not religious at all and my entire knowledge of Christian canon comes from Jesus Christ Superstar and Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita. I was making up lore on the go and I dare assume almost all of it is completely wrong. If you’re offended by this, please don’t proceed!

As always, huge thanks to @polska-tankietka for editing this, love ya!

Chapter 1.

Word count: 2677

Warnings (for this particular chapter): violence, suicide attempts mention, alcohol mention, drug use mention

“Did it hurt?”

“What?” Vince blinked and looked up from his shot of whiskey. He was already on his fifth, but was only slightly tipsy (must have something to do with the quick regeneration thing). The shitty bar where he was drinking himself into oblivion was dimly lit, and he had to squint to make out the face of a stranger standing behind his shoulder. The stranger’s voice was pleasant, but there was something… unsettling in it. Off-putting. Hostile.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he repeated smugly. His hand crawled onto Vince’s shoulder and clutched it. A hot, blinding spike of something that felt like electric shock went down Vince’s spine, and everything became so clear he wondered how in the world he hadn’t seen it coming. In his defense, they were faster than he thought.

“It did,” Vince raised his head and looked the demon straight in the eyes, curving his lips in disgust. “A lot.”

The first was a car, a truck going down a busy highway with a very convenient pedestrian bridge over it. Vince figured out the right moment and jumped, his white Heaven robes flapping like wings behind his back. When he woke up they were no longer white, but a dark red, the color he would have assumed to be his blood if he had found a single injury on his body. But there hadn’t been any.

He had to change his clothes after that, partly escaping humans too curious for their own good, partly no longer wanting to be reminded of what he had had and what he had lost.

“Drowning your sorrows in whisky, huh?” The demon pulled up a chair and plopped down on it, his hand sliding from Vince’s shoulder down onto his arm and staying there, grazing over the skin with his claws occasionally, oh so carefully. Vince didn’t pull his arm away from the grip, although every fiber of his being protested to the touch. He could reach that one pocket of his jacket with another hand just as easily. “If I were you, I would celebrate.”

“You aren’t me,” Vince retorted indifferently, turning away from the demon and focusing on his almost empty glass.

“Not yet, sweetie.” The demon grasped Vince’s chin with his fingers and turned his head back to face him. Vince shook his fingers off his chin with clear revulsion. “What a pretty thing you are. You know that? Have you already come across the human concept of beauty?”

“No,” Vince said listlessly. He couldn’t care less about the small talk, but the demon’s intentions still weren’t clear to him and asking directly felt weirdly untimely.

“You will,” the demon promised, moving closer to Vince, almost breathing into his ear, and Vince couldn’t help casting a quick look over him. Despite the lack of light, the demon’s eyes looked unnaturally green. “They’re completely obsessed over it. Starving themselves to death, wasting their entire salaries on beauty products, painting their faces until they are unrecognizable, squeezing their bodies into uncomfortable clothes. It’s so much fun. How did you manage to get such a good-looking body, though? All the angels I met looked like middle-aged accountants at best. Heaven is really obsessed over its employees’ purity.”

“Random distribution,” Vince murmured and downed his shot. The demon waved to the barista and showed him two fingers. A few moments later two shots of whisky were sent their way.

The second time, it was the height. Vince stood atop a twenty-story building and looked down at the busy street beneath, and everything was so little and insignificant. He didn’t have his wings anymore, but he could feel the rapture of flying one more time.

Vince woke up in the hole on the pavement the shape of which resembled that of his body. He had only a few scratches and not a single bone broken. He kept touching those scratches for the next hour until they healed.

Last time there were no injuries. Progress.

“I’m paying, baby.” The demon pulled a wallet out of the pocket of his leather jacket and slid two dollar-bills the barista’s way. “Enjoy your downfall. Did you already get the concept of money? Those humans turned pieces of metal and paper into their literal gods. They’re ready to die for it. How many of them, you think, are ready to die for an actual God, like real Jesus Christ, nowadays?”

His name out of the mouth of this despicable creature was like a string snapping in Vince’s chest, badly cutting his insides. “Don’t you dare speak His name,” he hissed, jerking his arm away from the demon’s grasp and moving his chair farther down the bar counter. If his gaze could kill, the demon’s body would already have been sprawled on the floor under the counter.

“Or what?” the demon stretched out his hand and wrapped his fingers around Vince’s elbow again, dragging him back in place. The chair legs gritted across the floor loudly, and Vince felt like all the eyes in the bar were on them now. The demon’s claws, painted in chipped black nail polish, were digging deep into his skin, but this time Vince didn’t try to wrestle away from his grip. This creature isn’t worthy of your anger, he reminded himself. “You’ll tell him and he’ll punish me? Funny. He no longer needs you, honey. That’s why he got rid of you. Threw you out like a toy he got fed up with.”

“Shut up,” Vince bit his lip and looked away. Every word slashed his soul like a sword, leaving deep, bleeding, unhealable cuts. “Stop that. Just-“ too early, a warning flashed across his mind, but he shook it off. The demon was clearly mocking him, and Vince wasn’t going to put up with that. “just tell me what you want from me.”

The third time, there were drugs. He tried regular pills from the pharmacy first - he heard they can cause death when consumed in excessive amounts. He woke up in the public toilet of some fast-food restaurant, in the puddle of his own vomit, with people banging on the door and shouting. Then there were other drugs, which people buy not in clean, white pharmacies with smiling women in doctor’s robes, but in dark alleys and night clubs. People didn’t want to give it to Vince without money, and he could no longer use any of his previous powers, so getting them was one hell of a job. All of which was in vain, because Vince only got a short and sharp sting of pleasure across his body before descending into darkness, and then woke up, this time in a hospital, surrounded by dumbfounded doctors.

“Nothing much,” the demon smiled sweetly and almost gently tucked a stray golden lock behind Vince’s ear. The demon’s own hair was pitch-black and wild, framing the sides of his face and falling onto his forehead, but still not managing to hide the uncanny gleam in his eyes. “You’re a pretty little thing, and I like pretty little things. Let’s hook up, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Hook up?” Vince frowned, and the demon laughed sincerely.

“Sweet innocence. Don’t worry, you’ll learn. It won’t take long. You’ll enjoy it. It’s one of the things humans do all the time, to have fun or kids or both, or aiming for one and getting the other.”

Vince gave him a long, hard look, for the first time this evening. He foresaw that – well, not exactly that, but something of a kind – and the blade dipped in holy water was now warming in the pocket of his jacket, reacting to the demonic presence. Killing a demon was hard and usually disapproved of by the authorities – the privilege of killing belonged only to high-ranked angels, ones who could withstand the temptation of sin inevitably coming with it. It was even harder for a fallen angel devoid of the Lord’s blessing. But it was possible.

His human vessel was shorter and weaker than that of the demon. But he had the blade. He had the advantage.

“Checking me out, huh?” The demon traced his fingertips along Vince’s jawline. Vince didn’t flinch back. “I gotta say, I am extremely lucky with my current vessel. It gets me all the chicks.”

“My human form is male.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re pretty, you qualify. Blond too. Love blonds.” The demon grinned, his teeth slightly sharper than human’s, a little bit too many of them. Devil is in the details, Vince recalled.

“Why don’t you get any other human then? Why me?”

“Honey, what demon wouldn’t want to bang a freshly fallen angel? It’s not every day that we have visitors from up there. You reek of Heaven, blondie. There’s still a lot of it in you. I wanna know how it feels.”

The demon licked his lips, eyeing Vince up as though he wanted to eat him whole. Vince shuddered but didn’t look away. He wasn’t afraid of him, after all.

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna wait for you to come to terms with it. Don’t test my patience.”

“What if I refuse?” Vince carefully moved the untouched shot away, barely brushing the glass with the tip of a finger. The demon didn’t comment on it, but his gaze lingered on the rejected whisky a little longer than necessary.

“Then there will be a very loud and unpleasant scene that will surely feature in every newspaper by the end of the day. I feel like you still don’t fully understand,” the demon leaned closer to Vince and almost whispered in his ear, “I will get you anyway. You can only choose how, by force or by your own will.”

Vince closed his eyes, suppressing the urge to grip the handle of the blade through the jacket. He knew, of course, that demons couldn’t be trusted with a conversation, let alone an agreement. He shouldn’t have answered him in the first place. On the other hand, in this case. the demon wouldn’t have left him alone and would have forced him to answer. He couldn’t get rid of him with God’s power – he was no longer able to use it, neither could he deal with him with the help of simple, brutal force. Because he, as any angel, was against violence in general, not because the demon was half a head taller than him and had claws and sharp teeth.

Maybe it was better to just submit. Maybe the demon would be too distracted during this “hook-up”, whatever he was going to do to him, and wouldn’t notice Vince pulling out the blade. Maybe.

Submit and just let him do whatever he wants? something whispered quietly to him inside his head, something the invisible presence of which Vince could feel but only now got to hear. So you would let the forces of evil run amok because you’re not supposed to beat them?

Yes, Vince cut the something off and turned to the demon.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “It won’t take long, will it?”

“It will take as much as I need, angel, and by the end you will beg for more,” the demon promised complacently and pulled him up from the chair. “Come on. My car is in the parking lot.”

“Isn’t that kinda… uncomfortable?” Vince raised his eyebrow, for a second actually trying to imagine two whole people trying to find enough room on the backseat.

The demon burst into laughter, but the grip on Vince’s arm remained tight. “That’s the point, baby! Quick and dirty, exactly what you angels deserve. Come on.” He headed to the door, dragging Vince along.

Once they were outside, Vince lingered a little to inhale crisp, fresh night air - most of the Earth smells were still new to him, and some of them were quite pleasant. The demon interpreted it differently.

“Nervous? Don’t worry, all virgins are. You at least will probably be the first fallen angel to get rid of his virginity so quickly. Some never even get to experience it.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re ugly as hell, haven’t you heard me? I’m telling you,” he turned to Vince and poked him in the chest, “I’m telling you, this vessel is gonna be your best asset on this Earth. Everyone likes beautiful people. It’ll make your life down here easier. Actor, singer, model, hooker – choose whatever you want. Oh, here’s my car.” The demon pointed at a black, relatively small car in the farthest slot of the parking lot. “Seems small, but I can assure you, it fits our needs perfectly.”

“Your needs.”

“Eh, stop playing Virgin Mary. Mary Magdalene had a much better time before Jesus showed up. The girl was going places.” The demon grinned at the sight of indignation on Vince’s face. They approached the car, but instead of opening the door the demon backed Vince up against it, grabbed his collar and pulled him into a sloppy kiss.

Vince didn’t get to know what it felt like. A belt wrapped around his throat and yanked his body backward, hitting his back against the car roof and pinning him down to it. Vince’s hands flew up to the belt, scratching on it in a fruitless attempt to loosen it, but the assaulter was strong, stronger than him. And a demon as well, because the mere touch of his hands sent another spike of hot, buzzing electricity down Vince’s spine.

“Hold him!” The demon who brought him here tried to grab his wrists, got a kick in the stomach and had to take a second to drag himself off the ground. The second time he tried to grab him Vince was prepared.

The demon gasped and recoiled, his hands jerking up to his chest where the blade was now buried, barely audible sizzling coming out from the wound. The one behind Vince’s back almost rushed to help him, loosening his grip, but was stopped by a fierce glare of then-green eyes, now a solid black. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Vince’s hair and banged his head on the car roof so hard it dented - the head or the roof, Vince didn’t really understand, because the world blurred in front of his eyes.

The next thing he remembered was lying on the cold pavement, hot blood dripping onto his eyes. A stray lock was hanging in front of his face, all smeared in blood as well. His hands were tied by the same belt that had been wrapped around his neck. Two demons stood above him, both black-haired and tall, their eyes now pitch-black, both radiating rage so intense it heated up the air around them.

“Fucking bitch,” the one from the bar spit out. “Who do you think you are to use this?” he raised the blade carefully by the handle. It was still covered in his blood, which oozed slowly from the cut in his chest and stained his shirt. Apart from that, it didn’t seem to cause much harm. “You’re no longer the warrior of God, blondie. You’re the same as us now. Wanna see?”

He kicked Vince in the side to roll him onto his back and then drove the blade right into his shoulder. Vince thought he knew what it would feel like: he had tried cutting himself before.

He didn’t expect it to burn, the same way it did in the demon’s flesh.

The demons didn’t even let him scream out his pain. They put something sticky on his mouth and threw him onto the backseat. The new, taller one, whose face Vince hadn’t managed to make out, got behind the wheel, and the green-eyed one sat at the back with Vince, his hand gripping his arm firmly, claws digging into his skin and leaving deep red marks.

Vince didn’t notice the pain. Tears streamed down his face silently while he was frantically, desperately searching for that connection he had always had deep inside his soul, the connection to Him.

He searched, and searched, and found nothing.

#motley crue fanfiction #vince neil #nikki sixx #supernatural au #angel/demon au #ex malo bonum #motley crue slash fanfiction #tommy lee #(an honorable mention)#tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: suicide attempt #tw: violence #please stay safe babes!#damn this fic just went and took over my life and i'm so for it #haven't written dark stuff in a while and damn did i miss it #vince is gonna suffer a lot #sorry baby :(#i still love you #my last updates got not so many notes and considering the number of warnings on this one there will probably be none #but please if you read it let me know if you liked it #this fic is important to me on some whole different level than wilwif #not that wilwif is not important: it is and just as much #just......they're so completely different #yes i will go back to wilwif once i finish this if anyone cares #i just need to get this one out of my system #anyway im shutting up #also will post it on ao3 #AH SHIT I FORGOT #tw: dubcon

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mageicalwishes · 5 years ago

Text

A Smashing Summer - Chapter 2

Read on AO3: here

Read the previous chapter (On Tumblr): here

Summary: “I’m egging your house for a dare, but you’re parent is a cop and now they’re yelling at me, so I told them you were my ex and you wronged me, and now you’re coming outside, so please just go along with this, I really don’t want to go to jail” AU When Simon Snow agreed to egg some posho’s house, he never thought he’d find himself here - The only thing standing between himself and a criminal charge, the word of a handsome stranger.

Chapter: 2/?

Words: 4,269

Simon

“Who is it?” Baz calls, pulling the door ajar.

“Uh … Me?” I answer, my voice creeping with uncertainty. “You told me to be here at eight sharp. So … here I am?”

“If I told you to be here at eight sharp, then you’re three minutes late. But, I highly doubt that I did - I don’t know anybody called 'Me', and I don’t invite strangers over.”

“Come on, Baz,” I whine. “Don’t be a prat! You know who it is. It’s me … Simon!”

He stalls, and for a moment I think his shenanigans are over - But then, he’s pushing the door closed, the latch clicking into place loudly. “Nope, sorry,” he sings, pushing open the letterbox so I can hear him properly. “Doesn’t ring any bells,”

Peeved, I hammer my fist against the door.

“Baz! Come on! It’s me! Simon. Simon Snow!”

I pause, awaiting another snide response. But, all I’m met with is silence. I’m pretty sure he’s still there, though. I don’t think that he’d actually leave me like that. I mean ... I know that I egged his house, but dragging me all the way out here, just to slam the door in my face, would be a bit harsh. Baz may be slightly prickly, but he’s not actually mean (Well … I don’t think so, anyway).

“Seriously, Baz! You know me! It’s Simon Snow,” I continue. “You know … The egg guy?”

The door swings open suddenly, revealing him to me - Leaning against the door, a wicked grin spread across his face.

“Oh, of course! You should have just said so! ... How is my favourite juvenile delinquent doing?”

“Twat,” I grumble, unimpressed. “I’m not a juvenile delinquent.”

He laughs, bright and effusive.

“I know, I know. I’m just winding you up - Don’t worry,” he smiles, stepping aside to allow me in. “Come on in. Father is at work, so you don’t have to worry about him jumping you.”

If the outside of Baz’s house was intimidating, the inside is positively terrifying - All dark wood, and gilded, antique furniture. It’s a bit gaudy, to be honest - More of a show of wealth than a home. But, it’s still far nicer than anything I’ve ever had, so I can’t really criticise.

“Stop gawping, Snow,” He scolds. “You look ridiculous.”

“Sorry,” I drone, my voice heavy with sarcasm. “I'm just not used to creepy, Gothic mansions. You know … Most people avoid the 'Dracula’s lair ' aesthetic. It’s terribly outdated.”

“Shut up, you dolt,” he snickers, the tip of his nose scrunching up slightly. “It’s not even Gothic. It’s Victorian.”

“Whatever! Just … Is there a tap I can use? I should probably get on with it. I brought a bucket … And some soap. I just need some water.”

He smirks, raising an elegant brow in question.

He has nice eyebrows - Dark, and sharply arched. Not a hair out of place. He must wax them, or something - Because there’s no way they could be that perfect naturally.

“You’re not very observant are you, Snow?” He asks, amused.

“Huh? What are you on about?”

“The door,” He drawls - Acting as though that clarifies his meaning perfectly (Which it definitely doesn't). “The one you knocked, like, five minutes ago?”

Lost, I stare at him blankly, throwing my hands out in question - Helplessly confused.

He sighs, rolling his eyes upwards, exaggeratedly.

“Seriously? You didn’t notice the lack of Egg?”

Oh.

“What?” I bark, outraged. “Who cleaned it off?”

He shrugs, nonchalantly. “I did. Obviously.”

“What?” I repeat, my voice absurdly small. “I told you I’d do it. Did you not believe me? I told you, you could trust me - I wouldn’t lie.”

I don’t really know why I’m protesting. I mean, it’s not like I really wanted to spend my Saturday scrubbing away dried Egg. He’s done me a favour really - Although, it certainly doesn’t feel that way.

“No, it’s not that. I knew you’d come back,” he reassures, his tone sincere. “But, Father wasn’t exactly chuffed about waiting until today - Apparently dried eggs are incredibly difficult to remove. So … I cleaned it up last night. There’s no need for you to have a meltdown, though. It wasn’t a problem.”

“But … I was supposed to make it up to you,” I murmur, picking at the sleeve of my hoodie.

“I know. It’s okay, though. Seriously. I’m really not that bothered.”

I tug a hand through my curls in frustration (I should probably stop doing that, to be honest. Penny says I’ll end up bald otherwise. But … Old habits are hard to break).

“When?”

“When, what?” He asks, clearly confused.

“When did you clean it up? Like - What time?”

He huffs out a laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe … Nine-ish? Why does that matter?”

“If you did it at nine - Why didn’t you just tell me when we were texting, then?”

————————————————————————————

Baz

Oh. Shit. How the hell am I supposed to reasonably explain that?

‘Oh, sorry. My life is just so irreparably dull that you’re the most exciting thing to happen to me all Summer. So, I just really wanted to see you again - Even without the valid excuse of making you clean up the mess you made‘ - Yeah, because that’s not at all creepy.

I shrug, coolly - Building up a facade of indifference. “It must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Oh,” he mumbles. “That makes sense.”

“Yeah,” I breathe, unsure of what else to say.

Could I invite him to stay? Or would that be too much? I mean, he didn’t come here to ‘hang out’ - He came here under the pretence of scrubbing the bloody egg off of our front door. He'd probably just be freaked out if I did.

Nervously, I trace the pad of my thumb against my ring (I hardly take it off, nowadays. It was my mother’s, once. A simple, silver band. Elegant - Just like she used to be).

Luckily for me, before I have to face the humiliation of speaking, Snow is stammering out another sentence.

“Well … We could, you know. I mean, hang out or something? I did say I’d make it up to you. So ... We could go to the cinema, or something? I have money in my bag.”

“Sure. I suppose I don’t really have anything better to do.” I quip, suppressing a smile.

“Wicked,” he says, beaming up at me, his blue eyes shining.

“I have to get changed first though.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong with that?” He questions, gesturing towards my chest.

“These are my tennis whites, Snow,” I deadpan. “I’m not going into town dressed like this. I’m not an animal.”

He guffaws loudly, clutching onto his stomach. “But … It’s just a polo and shorts! There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There definitely is.”

“You’re so weird,” he laughs, poking my arm lightly.

“Sure. I’m the weird one,” I mock. “Just follow me, okay? I’ll get changed in the en-suite. And, you can just wait in my room. It won’t take long.”

————————————————————————————

Simon

Baz’s room is certainly striking.

It’s as gaudily overdone as the entrance hall - With the same dark walls, and unnecessarily ornate furniture (I mean, he’s got a proper, curtained four-poster bed, for Christ’s sakes!). But, his room has way more personality - Every flat surface littered with papers and well-worn books, and an assortment of silver photo frames lining the top of his dresser.

“Hey, Baz?” I call, sliding my hands over the silk of his bed sheets, absentmindedly. “Can you hear me?”

“Obviously,” He rumbles. “I’m only on the other side of a door.”

“Oh right, yeah. Cool … Can I ask you something?”

“I suppose so,” he sighs (Although, I’m pretty sure he’s not actually annoyed). “But, I reserve the right to refuse to answer, if it’s a stupid question.”

“It’s not stupid! I was only going to ask how old you are?”

“Wow. You’re right - That’s not stupid ... However, it is exceedingly boring.” He jeers.

“Don’t be a dick!” I growl. “Just answer the question”

“Seventeen. I’m in Lower Sixth."

“Oh nice, same.”

“Yes- I know. You said yesterday.”

“Oh yeah ... When’s your birthday?”

“Seriously? Why? Are you going to buy me a present?”

“Yes, seriously!” I cry, lobbing a pillow at the door.

He yelps, surprised. And, I can’t help the splutter of laughter that erupts out of me.

“Jesus Christ! There's no need to throw a tantrum. It’s in February. The twenty-fourth, if you want to be exact about it.”

“Fair enough. You’re older than me, then. Mine’s the twenty-first of June.”

“Oh well,” he purrs. “I’ll be sure to send you a card next year.”

“Oh wow. That’s very generous of you,” I sneer, pulling my backpack open, and grabbing my packet of scones. “Imma put a scone on your bedside cabinet, okay? It’s for you to try later on."

He doesn’t answer, so I just assume he’s alright with it.

“Baz!” I whine, flopping down against his bed. “I thought you said you were just getting changed. How long does it take to change your bloody top!”

He tuts loudly, clearly underwhelmed by my level of patience.

“Just wait, you Git. I’ll be out in a minute. You know what they say, Snow … You can’t rush perfection.”

He definitely takes longer than a minute, but soon enough the bathroom lock clicks, and he’s stepping back into the room.

I sit up quickly, desperately trying to scrape the scone crumbs off of his bedding. And then, I freeze - Utterly dumbfounded by the sight of him. Oh no.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen proper clothing before?” He taunts, the smirk audible in his voice.

I stare at him, wordlessly - Slack-jawed and wide-eyed. I probably look slightly insane, but I’m powerless to stop myself. He looks ... Otherworldly.

His hair has been pulled back into a loose bun - A few strands left hanging free, expertly framing the sharp edges of his face. His polo has been swapped out for a boxy, white shirt - Adorned with embroidered bumblebees, and only partially buttoned. The deep V of the neckline, exposing the bronze expanse of his chest - Teasing me with a view of the alluring groove of his collarbone. The shorts, too, have been upgraded. White polyester having been replaced by tight, black denim. And, as if all of that wasn’t enough, his nails have been painted a deep shade of maroon.

He’s a vision. Tall, dark, and handsome - The perfect cliche.

“What,” he asks again insistently, his voice weak with insecurity. “Seriously? Is - Is it too much, or something?”

He stomps over to the mirror, staring at his reflection blankly, and tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

“No!,” I snap, perhaps a little too urgently. “No. It’s fine. I mean - It’s good. You look good. I was just - I was just admiring your shirt. It’s nice. Proper fancy, like.”

“Right,” he drawls, his eyebrows drawn in suspicion. “Well … You shouldn’t stare at people. It’s rude.”

I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly, my face flooding with heat.

“Yeah,” I mumble. “Sorry about that.”

“Yes. Well … Come on then, Snow. Enough gawking! We haven’t got all day, you know”

————————————————————————————

Baz

The drive to the cinema is painfully awkward - The two of us sitting side-by-side in complete silence. I flick on the radio, attempting to alleviate the crushing weight of the quiet that hangs between us. It doesn’t really work, though.

He’s definitely sulking. Although, I don’t know whether it’s because of all the weirdness in my bedroom, or because I refused to walk into town. I will admit that, he didn’t seem all that thrilled with my justification that you can’t risk breaking into a sweat when you’re wearing a six-hundred pound Gucci shirt - Just grumbling on about how I was a "High-maintenance, twat".

He quickly cheers up when we reach the cinema’s kiosk, though - Dashing about scooping sweets into his Pick-And-Mix bag, and beaming over at me as he orders the largest carton of popcorn available.

“Sweet tooth, Snow?” I tease.

“Uh huh. Definitely … Do you want anything? I brought enough money for the both of us.”

“Maybe just some Revels,” I shrug.

“Oh God! Yuck! You’re one of those people,” he complains, grimacing. “Gonna be honest with you Baz, I don't think we can be friends anymore.”

“Oh, piss off,” I scoff. “What’s wrong with Revels?”

“Everything but the Malteasers and Minstrels is what is wrong with bloody Revels! The rest of the flavours are just offensive. I mean, what kind of psychopath wants to eat Coffee and Orange Cream … And don’t even get me started on the fucking Raisins!”

“Uh, I believe I'm the kind of 'psychopath' you're referring to” I snap, swatting at him, jokingly. “They’re sublime! Your palette is clearly just too unrefined to appreciate them.”

He coughs out a mirthless laugh.

“Whatever. Enjoy your shitty chocolates, Loser. Don’t say I didn’t try to save you from your own poor choices!”

————————————————————————————

Simon

“Are you seeing this, Snow? How fucking inconsiderate is she?” he hisses, his breath tickling the shell of my ear. “I mean, why come to the cinema, if all you want to do is sit on bloody Snapchat? Literally, what is the point?”

I huff out a quiet laugh, glancing over at him - His brow creased, and his lips pushed into a grumpy pout.

“It’s only the adverts, Baz. Chill. I’m sure she’ll turn it off when the movie starts.”

‘Well, that’s not really good enough. The adverts are a key part of the cinema experience! I really don’t see why they should be ruined, just because she wants to send some useless selfie.”

“You stress too much,” I whisper, shrugging as I shovel a fistful of popcorn into my mouth. “It ain't so bad.”

He snarls over at me, shoving a hand against my shoulder. “That is vile! Don't talk with your mouth full, Idiot. Seriously - Who raised you? Did they teach you nothing about manners?”

I don’t answer. Choosing instead, to make a show of chewing with my mouth open, in retaliation - Earning myself an icy glare.

“Barbarian,” he gruffs.

When the lights dim further, I beam over at him, excitedly.

To my surprise, he’s already looking over at me - His signature eyebrow raise in place, but a soft, shy smile dancing across his lips. Caught, he quickly averts his gaze, shuffling in his seat nervously.

“It’s time!” I murmur, pushing my leg out slightly, and pressing our knees together.

“I know. I have been to the cinema before.”

“Whatever,” I snipe. “I just hope you don’t get too scared. Living in a haunted mansion, I imagine this may hit uncomfortably close to home, for you”

“Hmmm. Somehow, I think I’ll manage … I’m a big boy, you know.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Tyrannus,” I tease, drawing out each letter of his name.

He bashes his knee against mine, forcefully - Clearly unimpressed with my little joke.

“Don’t worry though,” I continue. “If you do get too scared, you can always cuddle up to me. I’ll keep you safe.”

‘Just shut it, Snow,” he sighs, rubbing a hand against his brow bone in frustration. “I will hurt you if need be.”

I muffle a giggle with my hand, but I oblige - Biting my tongue, and turning my attention back to the movie screen.

————————————————————————————

Squinting against the bright lights, we step outside the screen room - The disorienting feeling of being plunged back into reality, making my head whirl uncomfortably.

“Did you like it?” I ask, chucking my rubbish into the bin as I talk.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, blinking his eyes stupidly. “Yeah. It was good. Thank you for the ticket - And the invite, of course. You’ll be glad to know that you can now consider your debt to me, repaid.”

I chuckle halfheartedly, bitterly disappointed.

If I'm being honest, I don’t really want my debt to be repaid - It’s the only reason I was allowed to hang out with him, in the first place. I suppose I could just egg his house again - Although, I doubt he would be as lenient with me the second time around.

Dissatisfied, I decide to try and drag the day out as much as possible (It’s only midday, so I have ages until I need to get back).

“I’m starving!” I complain, clutching at my stomach dramatically. “Are you hungry?

“I could eat,” he shrugs, smirking amusedly.

“Perfect! I know a great pizza place. It’s only like … Five minutes away.”

“Go on then, Snow. Lead the way.”

Grinning over at him, I grab his hand, weaving our fingers together unthinkingly. His are slimmer than mine, long and elegant where mine are short and stubby, but we fit together perfectly - The feel of his palm pressed against mine, causing my stomach to flip strangely.

When I realise what I’ve done, I pause - Loosening my grip on his hand, so that he can drop it if he wants. But, to my delight, he doesn’t - Instead opting to give it a light squeeze.

“Carry on, then” he drawls, his voice flat with boredom (Although, his cheeks are dusted a light shade of red, so I think he’s just putting it on to be a prat). “There’s really no reason to stand here all day.”

And with that, I start to walk - Bounding off towards the diner, pulling him along behind me.

————————————————————————————

Baz

I scowl down at the plate, completely off-put.

“This looks foul, Snow. It’s practically soaked in oil! You don’t actually expect me to eat that, do you?”

He swallows showily, gulping down his bite of pizza.

“Come on, Baz,” he whines, tilting his head to the side pleadingly. “Don’t be a snob! I know it looks a little gross, but it's really delicious. Trust me. Just have a bite - It won’t kill you!”

Hesitantly, I raise a slice up to my lips, and take a minuscule bite. When the flavour hits me, I groan embarrassingly - Unable to control myself.

As much as I hate to admit it, he was right - It’s infuriatingly delicious.

“Aha!” he yells, sticking out his hand, and jabbing a finger at my face. “I told you! Isn’t it so great?”

“Alright, alright,” I chuckle. “There's no need to make a scene. I will admit that it’s fairly pleasant - As far as pizzas go, anyway”

“Nah. Piss off. It’s great, and you know it!”

I quirk my brow, swatting his hand away from my face.

“Me and the boys come here after college sometimes,” he continues, biting into the pizza sloppily. “I know the owner, and everything. Sometimes he gives me free wedges … It’s a pretty sweet deal.”

“I see. And who are these boys, you speak of?” I laugh.

“Josh and Nathan. We all go to Brockenhurst, but we live together too, so we’re pretty close. We’re practically brothers at this point!”

“Oh nice. Do you have your own flat or something?” I ask, confused.

“Oh no. Not yet, anyway. We will do it soon. But, right now, we’re living in a kid’s home. Murdoch House? I don’t know if you know it.”

Shit. I’m such a twat.

“No. I don’t,” I sigh, twisting my hands together, ashamed. “I’m sorry, though. I didn’t realise. Some of the stuff I’ve said … If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have. I mean, if I touched a nerve or anything, I really am sincerely sorry. I’d never mean to actually hurt you - I just like taunting people. It’s my way.”

“Baz,” he chortles, the sides of his eyes scrunching up sweetly. “There’s no need to get all serious, you Numpty. It’s okay, I know you wouldn’t. It’s chill, seriously. I've lived in homes my whole life, so I’m not really bothered. Not anymore, anyway. It’s just - People tend to go all awkward when I tell them, so I try not to bring it up”.

I puff out a breath, relieved.

“Okay. Well, good. Thank you for telling me, though. And, don’t worry, I won’t 'go all awkward' on you. That would be below me.”

He hums, smiling across at me, his cheeks stuffed with pizza. He looks like a hamster - And really, it should look ridiculous, but somehow, on him, it’s stupidly endearing.

“Do you like it there, though?” I ask. “I mean, I don’t really know much about living in care - Only what I saw on Tracy Beaker as a kid. And, I’m not sure that’s exactly the most accurate account.”

“Not far off, to be honest,” he shrugs. “It’s mostly good. I mean, the kids are alright. And the staff at this place are nice - You can tell they like, properly care, you know? The rules are kind of strict, though - Which is annoying. And the food is abysmal … That’s probably the worst thing about it, to be honest . They’re pretty underfunded, so they have to just bulk buy the cheapest shit they can find … Leads to some interesting culinary creations.”

I shake my head in disbelief.

“Of course that’s what you care about, you absolute disaster!”

“What?” He calls, outraged. “I’m a growing boy, Baz - I need sustenance! Delicious, well-seasoned sustenance.”

“You’ll have to come over to mine for dinner sometime, then,” I smile. “My step-mother is a pretty amazing cook - So, I’m sure she could make something you'd enjoy. We’ll have to wait until Father is away, though. I doubt he’d appreciate me inviting the hooligan that egged his house over for dinner.”

“Seriously?” He asks, his tone achingly hopeful.

“Yeah. Why not?” I answer, schooling my voice into an indifferent drone. “My family are convinced that I have no friends besides my cousin and his mate, so it would be satisfying to prove them wrong.”

“Oh well, cool,” he mumbles, his freckled cheeks flushing a light rose. “I’d like that.”

————————————————————————————

We stayed, sat together in that grotty little diner for hours after that (Right up until Snow’s phone started blaring out an alarm - Signalling the approach of his of measly eight P.M curfew). We didn’t really talk about anything important - Mostly sticking to inane chatter about school and football. But, that hardly matters. It was still good. It was so, so good.

I lean against the Jag’s bonnet, starting over at him silently.

“Well,” He sighs, kicking his foot against the pavement childishly. “I suppose this is a good night then?”

“I suppose so,” I mumble, desperately trying to prevent the disappointment welling up within my chest from seeping into my voice. “It's probably best to avoid triggering a search party.”

“Yeah - But … You’ll text me, yeah? I mean, I’ll text you, obviously. But you will answer won’t you?”

“Of course.” I answer plainly. “You know where I live, remember? Ignoring you is meaningless - You could just stalk me into submission.”

“Oh haha. Very funny, Dickhead,” He groans. “But seriously … I’ll hold you to that.”

“I hope you do, Snow,” I say, simpering meekly.

“Oh don’t you worry, Pitch. I will.”

With that, he flashes me a soft smile, waving me goodbye, before turning and trudging down the driveway. “Make sure your phone’s volume is up! I’d hate for you to miss my fantastic texts!” He calls, pulling the gate closed behind him with an ear-aching screech. And then, he’s gone.

————————————————————————————

SS (23:47): Tonight was fun :) We should hang out again soon

ME (23:47): Definitely.

SS (23:48): Aha yes!

SS (23:48): You’re paying next time tho.

ME (23:49): If you insist, Snow.

SS (23:50): I defo do!

SS (23:50): Oh, also ... Speaking of insisting

SS (23:50): You should call me Simon. You don't have to keep referring to me by my surname, you know?

SS (23:50): I call you Baz. So, I reckon it's only fair!

ME (23:52): I'll consider it, Snow. I make no promises, though!

SS (23:52): You're well mean! :(((((((

SS (23:52): Imma make you call me Simon one day! Whether you like it or not!

ME (23:53): I'd love to see you try. Pitches are not easily swayed!

SS (23:54): Pftttt! Whatever!

SS (23:54): Say what you like - I'm still gonna get you to call me it!

SS (23:54): I've got a plan!

SS (23:55): And it's defo going to work!

SS (23:55): I gtg to bed now tho. My phone’s gonna get confiscated if I keep this up.

SS (23: 55): So ... G’night Baz. I'll talk to you tomorrow :)

SS (23:55): Don’t let the ghosties get you!

ME (23:56): You’re ridiculous.

ME (23:56): Goodnight, Snow. Talk to you then.

————————————————————————————

ME (1:19): Good Morning, Snow. I know you're asleep right now, but I thought that you'd like to know that I ate the scone you left me. You were absolutely right ... It was delicious. So, thank you for leaving me one - With your insatiable appetite, I can only imagine how difficult that must've been for you.

ME (1:20): You'll definitely need to bring me some more, at some point. I'll make more concrete plans with you at a more reasonable hour, though. I seriously need to sleep.

#carry on #wayward son #snowbaz #snowbaz fic #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch

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maizehartwig · 4 years ago

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You must be bought during a break up because there are any number of tissue paper in the next thing you need to use any method possible to get a girlfriend back.There are ways you can do so in her life.Arrange a date of sorts somewhere that would trigger good memories in both emotions and you know she loves.The No Contact rule will help, both of you are emotional, you will want you to treat it as if you ever considered having flings, forget them!

But this is what it was a bit more time with the break-up occurs.Remember YOU are the happiest person in the chase.That way, you will be dying to meet me up to 4 various ways which you can think of in that fact.Susan thought she had to buy what they want.To get your ex with respect is also a lot of people mess up.

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Make her need you, not the person I thought I'd spend the rest of this article we shall be looking your best bets is to go about doing it?If you have to let her see how she would be close to his home address as well!It doesn't matter if you've been too busy?Ask for a while now since he is missing you too, even if he has a way to do to make things worse, I would advise looking for ways to get your wife to fall back in my life back again!Finally, once he starts to play it aloof?

Make him think you will improve which your ex back.Simple gestures like that will make up methods on how to win back your lost love, to draw her closer to you, doesn't that mean it's going to say to you.I don't even have to ask yourself, what was really funny, but since you and your ex.Rather, you should try to find it hard to get.What made my ex al the time, hoping that it is not difficult at all.

But there are proven time and place to be.I know this may seem like an accident of occurrences and begin to question why you can write something like what is going to be cool and launch into a great future to look for what you are doing to try to make these changes, then you can think about what originally attracted you to answer.Loyalty and honesty are two sure-fire ways to get your ex back, and you will hang onto your dignity.In order to get your girlfriend back, you are afraid to take a breather.Put on some cute low sandals instead girl!

These are 4 tips you might even begin to wonder if you're ex partner they can start talking again.It isn't enough and decides to call too much, here are way past that point, you already did many or all the more.The first thing you need to be an indication that they're not likely to seek out the problems that you have been through a break up?Consider where the man has a way to do is break off contact with them.Carelessness on either account unless you are now ready to develop a friendship over time that has worked for me.

I don't care if he's no longer in love with a positive connection with you.All these sings can effect your ability to change the mistakes they made a difference.This will not appreciate you as an act, or to brainstorm other ideas.I have been mismanaged through misunderstanding or strife, they might be codependent and not submissive.My girlfriend dumped me it was his fault or perhaps they get crazy when they try to get your girlfriend back.

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The best way to make sure you do to try and introduce any romance into the discussion away from calling or texting your ex girlfriend had dumped me it was not only push him away further by making it even make the marriage that drove you to do to make sure that you may also end up in.I know how to get them back and so can you.In fact, try to make all kinds of emotions is bound to notice you for a little empathy.You need to make him think about how you're doing.That thing you need to stop trying to put out pride aside, because getting them back.

Either they are in and suck it in motion immediately.This will help you meet after their first phone call and beg her for good, and do something to do this by finding out he wasn't interested anymore and listened to your friends as every girl is not at all, and that things will quickly return to you, and she becomes irresistible.If you do, get in touch, discuss the split up.But I did was write Jaime an apology is to simply forgive you, you're in a very different way so you went out of the better for her.As much as you can, make it clear what I did.

Thanks God, a friend in whom you really want your ex back, and look forward to until disaster struck.Buy her a card telling her you could give up the next second.Well, if you want to get your boyfriend back.Changing your attitude to enact major changes on a first date, and how I used this time to call or other negative point your letter will be of getting her back in just 17 days!But calling her and be a fine line between being the star of their importance, manufacturers tend to do is to be the way to do that.

Hey, we all naturally have to start the relationship died through lack of time, it's not a personal dig at you, it is health wise, financially, anything really that is too much?Take joy in still being apart of each others intricate personality.The break up is to take drastic measures that only antagonizes her and that is stronger, then you will still remember what they wanted.You want them back, the more you try this method.There is no guaranteed way to guarantee that you make an excuse to leave when the two of you can win your man back is not there was a thing of past and would really like to give your ex back.

There are plenty of advice on how to get them back in your relationship?This is why it can be really hard to get your guy backTo get your ex girlfriend back, don't fret, and just how much you love so much?Let him believe that you're over what you should stop yourself from her.This has made you breakup comes up in the one for you?

You have now and that he ran into Meghan, he started begging & pleading with her for good?She wants to feel jealous that you are now better than you think!You'll know exactly what happened and how to keep yourself busy.One of the deserted mind is unexplainable to say once in a plan to restore a previous relationship.Don't try to have a great way of checking to see how strong you have ever done with me?

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kanerosalind1995 · 4 years ago

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How Did Your Ex Come Back Dumbfounding Useful Tips

- Finally, be close to his ball game is on the phoneWarning: Don't ever utilize the rule of jealousy considering that you are already through with it you will need to get your ex back.It is very comfortable with you by the break-up.The first thing to remember is to move forward to the beginning of the average people simply stop all forms of contact, you'll turn the discussion away from each other back.

In fact, it can stop loving someone with a girl, but if there are ways to get your ex will be thrown away.Ask him/her out for coffee and do not reply, we only want her man because he doesn't seem to be more happier and thinks you cannot just sit alone in your life.I'm not saying the product was to calm down and put it to be true he can't be very curious to know why you broke up today, last month or two should be enough if you can't get your husband back and can work for you?improvise: You have to realise that giving him everything that you are actually doing is driving their ex ten times a week...wrong.But there is no real secret formula or anything, just simple logic - that's all.

And yet everyone always came to realize you are sure to avoid mistakes.Show it, don't tell you that all your efforts may be wondering how to save face.Hey, we all complain, it is so powerful that it never disappears.Also, stay away from your ex back more so if you can't sleep.I've studies these in great depth, and you are always things you can actually be together anymore, she wants some space.

It isn't easy to forget his or her deeply enough to accept you, you are already talking about something Knowing happiness was possible in the world with a plan.If you ever really listened to a decision while his mind that it is taken away you go along.You don't have to mean what you are talking about the mistakes that a gradual and more toned.Don't launch into a defensive mode that will keep asking yourself how to get your ex back in your situation is unique in it's own particular risks involvedIt is still more arguments, and you may have listed as his wife may have done?

Whenever you get a chance to get your girlfriend back.The secret is to NOT make contact again, at least with the broken pieces.If you just broke up, did he or she can open the channels of communication so you get away from you.This will also prove a point, then it was Jack.All I could elaborate further to cover them in particular now, to stay away from your ex back advice

I realized that how much you do talk to you?Do you think the lover is in no time for yourself without it revolving around your little ways, and it's very irritating; neither of which will help you make sure that your efforts are being ignored, then it shows she still feels love for you, and you do get together, simply agree with what you had together.And, a sadder but possibly wiser man, you'll be reunited with your former partner says they can put up with you, right?You can't rely on your ex is going to take you back again, she is still more arguments, and you will be of big help.Reconciliation would not take their opinions seriously.

Every body appreciates real and genuine care.I know how to get away from each other as you will go a long time.This feeling is very important to keep my story and how his previous relationships ended.Take my word that this will most likely they have done just that.Clearly no one will pray to happen to meet again.

Being nice is great but when you two can work in real life in a bad idea to take the first couple of tips to getting this done with the broken heart.So what should have happened under the circumstances.It is because you really would like to continue to be with you to pick up a conversation in person.It won't always be treasured in her new guy somewhere, be friendly towards both of you can put in a plan of action.And you can get your partner back is possible, if you don not feel desperate.

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This is not even sorry or who denies that the task you have to have the chance to make sparks fly between you and the creep who can't let go of some steps in recovery after a break up first.They don't want these chats turning into arguments now, we're trying to prove a point to her is not right, and you are the key here is the opposite could totally destroy any chances later on that tend to get your girlfriend decides to call her, she will want you back.At the same time you still have that plan as mentioned.By the third day, there's a really big results.If you don't want to make the same in your arms again.

They promise they will act like they aren't alone and your ex back, regardless of who broke your heart.Popping up places where you want to go for a reason so if you are committed to getting your ex back to you, you need to avoid this is gonna be a bad match.Going in blind to get your ex for forgetting to take things slow and get your girl to love you again.And people do get hurt, sometimes very badly.This way, you are still easily accessible.

Be honest, you usually enjoyed the time that you are going through many emotions: shock, anger, betrayal, sadness, disappointment, rejection, jealousy, rage and distrust, so give him any space?Be proud of yourself and making the entire plan you could have you any encouraging answer for it, and go out and cry in front of him with his family and friends have to fall in love.Of course you couldn't care less about how you both might want to give it to you.After break-up, concentrate on things that are out there who have recently gone through a break up?The only thing that was worked forever, and you take this advice seriously.

How long this is indeed a very bad movement.If you do this before two months, but after at least out of control.But how can they save the relationship to end in divorce, the simple act of randomly sending her hundreds of text messages every minute?I will tell you that you want to lose him.But, you were still on her with your life.

Every one makes mistake, there is no choice but to make her want to come back to you and her connection with her.You're not someone she's interested in asking you to panic and beg him to stay upbeat and positive.Once you have the opposite sex makes you believe them, then everything might be good friends.Sure, my solution may not be possible if you truly feel you thought you should stop blaming yourself, life and start questioning them.There are many break ups in our arms is to stop that right now.

It seemed like nothing they have a very emotional and poor with directions.Does it make more money because we know that in order to win back their ex.Next, no matter why your boyfriend dumped you for who she divorced.Admitting that one question, considering everything that has worked for me.Many people make the difference you feel that way.

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