#and I don't in any way begrudge him that!
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fourmoony · 3 days ago
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hi hun! for trick or treat could i get a treat with remus please? any fluffy fall vibes and im over the moon! 💕
thanks for requesting lovely! ♡︎
630 words | cw: mentions of smelling like cigarettes, but no details of smoking
Remus drops a kiss to your head in passing, warm hand squeezing the flesh of your hip as he shuffles between you and James' counter top. There's plenty of room in James' kitchen, pretty much everyone is in the living room arguing over whether or not The Nightmare Before Christmas is a Halloween or Christmas movie, but you don't mind the proximity.
You live for it, in fact. The warm, fuzzy feeling his presence brings. The whole night has been very wholesome, a happy warmth glowing in the centre of your chest. James' kitchen windows are fogged up from the condensation of the warm pot of soup Mary brought, warming on the stove, and the bitter air outside - and the house smells like Euphemia Potter's pumpkin spice muffins. There's half-hearted Halloween decorations strung up on various walls - Sirius' addition to Friend-O-Ween, the new tradition he's been banging on about for months in the run up.
Remus likes to remind him that in order for it to be a tradition, it has to have happened more than once. Sirius likes to rebuke that he can't wait to make Remus eat his words next year. You like the idea. Anything that involves downtime with the people you love, the ones who you cherish more than anything - that's your cup of tea.
"You're not joining the debate, love?" Remus asks, head in James' cupboard as he roots around for his favourite mug.
You spot it on the drying rack, hand reaching out for the soft fabric of his orange sweater. Remus turns, eyes softening when you place the mug in his hand. He kisses the very tip of your nose, eyes intent on watching the way your cheeks redden. "I wouldn't have any argument. I've never seen The Nightmare Before Christmas." You shrug, eyes fixed on the way Remus' long fingers wrap around his mug.
Your boyfriend tsks, "That just won't do."
You laugh as Remus flicks the kettle on, peering over the edge of Mary's pot to check on the soup. It brings tiny drops of condensation to his chin, his forehead. You reach out and swipe at the skin with gentle fingers. Remus smiles softly when you venture up into the curls of his hair. He needs a trim, you think.
"Best tell Mary her soups about to burn." Remus speaks lowly, like he's scared he'll scare you off from touching him if he speaks too loud.
It's a warranted idea. His beauty is astonishing, really. Intimidating. You'd never take your hands off him if you let yourself. But you do, now, to turn the burner off and move the soup to the side.
"You think Sirius will banish me for not having seen his favourite movie?" You ask humorously.
Remus chuckles, stirring his tea. "Best not mention it, love."
He turns, hand encasing yours as he tugs you towards him. He smells like pumpkin and his eucalyptus shower gel, a little like cigarettes, but you won't begrudge him it. Marlene's a bad influence. His hugs are always warm, comforting. You turn your ear to his heart, revel in the feel of his strong hand against your skull and shoulder blade, listen to it's steady thump, thump, thump.
His lips press to the side of your head, just at the same time Sirius appears in the arch way entry into the kitchen. He has his hands on his hips and a fury in his eyes, "Y/N," He huffs, "Tell them that The Nightmare Before Christmas is definitely a Halloween movie!"
Remus laughs quietly into your hair, his shoulders shaking with the effort to hold it in. You shove your boyfriend away, though he doesn't go far. He never does.
"Soups ready!" You smile, as convincingly as you can.
"Nice save, lovie." Remus whispers, hand squeezing your hip playfully.
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gen-is-gone · 11 months ago
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Yeah el-oh-el. Like, a reasonably valid criticism of Moffat is that that man is a twee fucking *marshmallow* a lot of the time. So many of his plots are solved with the power of love that it's practically a stereotype...meanwhile rtd wrote the Torchwood cast speculating that when the Doctor doesn't show up to save humans it's 'cause they're so disgusted with us they turn away and ignore us.
i think the reason i like rtd doctor who over moffat doctor who is that rtd doctor who to me had a sense of earnestness - of diving into concepts no matter how silly they were, of an optimistic view of humanity
whereas moffat to me came over as mostly cynical, smug, with a negative view on humanity and people
#like davies I think actually has a Very strong streak of bitter cynicism running through not just dr who but all of his work#and I don't in any way begrudge him that!#he came of age young gay and Welsh in the 80s - he's allowed to be cynical#but the idea that rtd is a bastion of hope and love while moff is the cynic is so laughably backward lol#chib imo strikes something of a balance - far far more cynical than moffat but still less so than davies#also not to bring up my own meta but again#Lawrence Miles and Rusty Davies both having this weird rage/despair at the dr for not being able to fix real world injustice#and mad larry's response being to repeatedly try to fucking murder them while rtd turned them into a god he could rail against#contrast that with 'we're all stories in the end - just make it a good one eh?'#the doctor can't save you in real life because they're not real#but you can be inspired by the story of the doctor to do good in whatever ways you can#but lbr at this point rtd stans are literally weaponizing any currently in-vogue criticisms of media trends in general against moff#everyone on tumblr has been raging against 'cynicism' (however they define it) and in favor of 'earnestness' due to marvel backlash#if you hate a writer they therefor must be cynical and not earnest even if only five years ago you were lodging the exact opposite complain#that moff was treacly and twee and 'not realistic'#apologies to my followers I'll stop putting negative shit on the dash I promise
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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 years ago
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also a special shoutout for real like wendy epic ableism moments when she stops talking directly to winston and expresses this is b/c he communicates too incorrectly (here too literally or whatever, once again whether he misinterpreted her or she misinterpreted him, it's put on him) and thus he doesn't deserve that
#winston billions#and i mean handshake with how winston's basically not considered allowed to talk at all by anyone out here#but like. alright we're not showing that winston is in the room mostly for a joke but even randos are like ''hmm. bit impolite'' lol#but once we do see him b/c he's speaking....like actually it Is heinously rude / diminishing / infantilizing to be spoken to indirectly#and The Behavior Is Inherently Ableist Here like ofc it's probably rude no matter what outside some kind of rly specific contexts lol but#that here she Is just implying he doesn't get to be spoken to b/c of some shortcoming / assumed lack of capacity#whatever she Does mean by ''see the matrix'' which is nothing but convenient vagueness abt Ability anyways#he's only here b/c she thinks he's annoying or w/e or otherwise extrinsically showing lack of value (can't be ableism there....)#and like winston and any other character is like. it's not textual sure but it doesn't need to be Textually Labeled#and sometimes can't be when ppl absolutely write based of ppl they know / encounter but don't know are autistic or etc#and that's how it works irl too. someone being Officially(tm) Autistic or smthing shouldn't be some necessary disclosure#b/c it's about The Underlying Principles At Play vs making some approved ''exceptions.'' if he's supposedly allistic it's still sm shit.#like how trans ppl & transphobia could exist prior to those terms even existing to be used. ppl are affected by them w/o being Out....#& btw like ppl still saying some shit like ''some autistic ppl will just be Bad At / Have No Social Skills & you have to be chill abt it''#like what does [social skills] mean here. what's the underlying element of socializing that they may do differently but you say is a Worse#or Absent version of the ''normal'' way of going about things. even if you actually get specific enough abt what a ''skill'' is; which is#gonna be a non universal non rule probably inaccurate idea of a Normal(tm) pattern of behavior/approach; sure maybe some ppl will struggle#to do that or largely/entirely not be able to do it / be unwilling to do it; gasp; what's its goal/effect & do they pursue/achieve that#another way. e.g how much AAC could be considered inherently ''bad'' re socializing or a lack of w/e ''skills'' or etc.#then like ok so once again a begrudging exception for autistic ppl is made. what's ''being okay with'' that even look like then? is anyone#gonna be using their ''good social skills'' to more successfully interact w/them? is Not socially excluding / ostracizing / punishing an#autistic person an Exception / something Extra you heroically do? e.g. & so what if some theoretical person isn't socially engaging w/other#ppl in any way. what do & don't they ''deserve'' differently from others b/c of that.#& anyways meanwhile they're certainly talking abt winston's Capabilities. but mostly talking around it b/c the point is He Gets Results &#will keep getting those results b/c why wouldn't he. but they can just cite anything to argue why oh but he doesn't Really have the value#cue vague shit like matrix refs b/c if he was Reeally talented we'd think he acts right. b/c Any bs can be said b/c winston doesn't have#the insulation or backup or ability to independently wield/gain social status his way through this shit. is only allowed to talk to#coworkers abt it by making it abt taylor actually (which is also true). still only makes it b/c rian is correctly remaining in the#acceptable range of being offbeat. so she already has more power than him & can choose to keep him around as that fun punching bag ig yay#then nobody cares. also he can't say he controls an instrument but Others refer to ''genius'' but negatively. wendy rhoades Would do ABA fr
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awearywritersworld · 1 year ago
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my very soul demands you
sukuna x reader summary: you introduce sukuna to cuddling and romance novels. meanwhile, he's still struggling to make sense of his feelings for you, despite wanting to commit murder because another man had the nerve to touch your arm (which earns him a lecture from yuuji). w/c: 2.5k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. jealous!sukuna. aged up!yuuji. features yuuji x reader. cursing. banter. hopefully not too ooc for sukuna. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it'd flow much better with the context of the previous two parts. lots of denial and begrudging softness from sukuna here. definitely more fluff than anything tho. this series has been fun to write, so thanks for reading<3 i appreciate reblogs or feedback! let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any additional parts. series masterlist // masterlist
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when you crawl in between sukuna's legs and curl up against his chest, it's a foreign experience that makes his body stiffen.
he'd been with countless women during his lifetime, but while fucking is one thing, he never once found himself in a position that struck him as this... intimate.
"hold me," you whine as if you can sense his unfamiliarity with such matters.
he rolls his eyes, beginning to wonder if your habit of throwing orders at him is actually some sort of compulsive need. "didn't anyone ever teach you manners?"
despite his irritation, he acquiesces to your demand and once he envelops you in his arms, some of his rigidness dissipates.
you hum contentedly. "isn't that better?"
"it's tolerable," he asserts, his chest vibrating against your cheek.
"whatever you say." tangling your legs with his, you turn your attention back to the movie you've both been watching.
he doesn't understand this... tedious display of affection, nor does he particularly enjoy it... right?
and he only allows it because he can't rid his mind of the image of your tear stained face... right?
yeah, that has to be it. he figures he can endure this, given that he was the reason you were so upset earlier.
it goes without saying that he doesn't realize it when he begins to rub absentminded circles on your back.
and the way the warmth of your body forces his usually tense muscles to relax goes unacknowledged.
when the credits begin to roll, sukuna's wearing an expression of unimpressed disinterest. "that's seriously how it ends?"
you don't respond, so he looks down only to find that you're fast asleep.
"tch. you ask to watch a movie, force me to pick it, and then you don't even have the decency to stay awake." he's not sure why he's chiding you even though he knows you can't hear him, but he keeps his voice low enough that it won't disturb you.
sukuna's spent more time than he cares to admit watching your sleeping form, but this is the first time that it's actually him you're pressed against. it's the first time he can reach out and touch you.
your hair has fallen across your face, so he pushes it back behind your ear gently. the pads of his fingers brush against your cheekbone, a ghost of a caress, and his gaze lingers on your parted lips.
he lets out a deep breath, tearing his eyes away from you. "impertinent brat."
reaching for the remote, he flips off the tv and casts the room in darkness.
upon waking up in the morning, yuuji's confused once he notices that he's on the couch and you're sleeping against his chest.
he may have been half asleep when he arrived home, but he's still positive he went to bed. stretching his arms above his head, the movement jostles you from your slumber.
"mornin', baby."
"good morning, yu," you yawn in response, shifting to sit up.
"how'd i wind up on the couch?" he asks, though he's already got an inkling of the answer.
"oh," you blush. "sukuna kind of made an appearance last night."
"that so? how'd it go?"
you think there might be a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips. is he teasing you?
"good," you offer. "we watched a movie."
"watched a movie with the king of curses," he muses before his face breaks out into a lopsided grin. "you sure are somethin', baby."
returning his smile, you lean in and press your lips to his. "hm. says you."
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it's not uncommon for you to meet yuuji for lunch if his mission is short and nearby, and today is one of those days, so he eagerly makes his way to the cafe you agreed on.
he's still a few hundred feet away when he spots you through the window, chatting with a man he recognizes as your childhood friend.
his gaze drops to where his hand is wrapped around your forearm as you both share a laugh together.
it doesn't really bother yuuji, he trusts you implicitly and jealousy isn't an emotion that's really on his radar. the same can't be said for everyone, though.
sukuna watches on as well, his thoughts much darker than his vessel's. who does that wretch think he is, putting his hands on you?
you're not his to touch.
"give me control," sukuna growls, his mouth appearing on yuuji's cheek.
"and why would i do that?"
"so i can rip his heart out and gift it to her since he seems so interested in offering his affections."
"duuuude," yuuji begins, somewhat amused. "i don't think she'd be super crazy about you murdering her friend."
"fine," sukuna bites back, well aware that yuuji has a point. "but he can live without his filthy hands, can't he? perhaps i'll pull each arm from his torso—"
yuuji snorts. "you have some serious issues, man."
he can feel sukuna trying to take over and easily curbs the attempt, though that only fuels the king of curses' irritation. "my only issue lies in the fact you're allowing this to happen."
yuuji reaches the door, a bell chiming through the cafe as he pulls it open. "she's a big girl. she doesn't need either of us to dictate what can and can't happen to her."
once you see your boyfriend, your face lights up and you call out his name. you place a kiss on his cheek and snake an arm around his waist in greeting, and the space it puts between you and your friend is enough to keep sukuna from protesting further.
"you two have met, right?" you ask.
"yeah! hey, itadori! it's been a while."
"it has! good to see you, yamada."
"i'd love to stay and chat more, but i have to get going," he states, leaning in to give you a hug which you return. "we should all go out together soon!"
"absolutely not, you deplorable knave—" yuuji slaps a hand to his cheek before sukuna can continue and yamada gives him an odd look.
your eyes widen for a split second and you have to stop yourself from facepalming.
"what'd you say?" yamada asks, sounding a bit hesitant.
"i said absolutely, sounds like an enjoyable night!"
the men exchange a handshake before you and yuuji make your way to a table.
"sukuna, what the hell was that?" you hiss once yamada's out of earshot.
"i don't know what you mean," he responds smugly.
you meet yuuji's eye and he just shrugs his shoulders, but you swear the corners of his mouth twitch upward.
you can't imagine anything good coming from the two of them colluding with one another, but let it go anyway.
opening up your menu, you sigh in defeat. "if you say so."
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"what do you mean you'd rather disembowel yourself?" you question the man sitting across from you.
it's becoming more commonplace to see those dark marks adorning yuuji's body during the nighttime hours. you sometimes wonder if he's letting it happen or if sukuna's just getting better at taking over, but you're too nervous to ask.
"do you need a dictionary? there's one over on the shelf—"
"no, asshole. i know what disembowel means! i just don't understand your refusal."
he raises his eyebrows at the obscenity, but doesn't comment on it. "i'm not reading some inane romance novel."
"but brontë's one of my favorite authors!"
"it makes no difference if it was penned by the gods. the thought alone is absurd. can we move on now?"
you don't respond. instead, you cross your arms and stare at the wall defiantly. your face is contorted into an expression that lets sukuna know you're clearly affronted.
"very mature, you silly little girl."
"sorry you find me and my interests so childish," you huff.
"oh, please. that's not what i said."
you continue giving him the cold shoulder, having no desire to argue further, but more than willing to die on this hill.
"fine, don't talk. it's no matter to me," he claims (despite it being the furthest thing from the truth).
as the minutes tick by, he keeps looking at you from the corner of his eye and exhaling dramatically.
eventually, he calls your name in an exasperated tone, and while it makes your heart flutter, you still don't spare him a glance. you just hold the book out for him and to your surprise, he rips it from your grasp.
"you're ridiculous," he grumbles, opening the cover to reveal the first page. "i hate you."
when he glances over to see you're beaming at him despite the insult, he adds (albeit half heartedly), "i mean it, brat."
the two of you sit in silence, each of you reading your respective books. a few chapters in, sukuna comes across the following conversation:
"do you know where the wicked go after death?" "they go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer. "and what is hell? can you tell me that?" "a pit full of fire." "and should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?" "no, sir." "what must you do to avoid it?" i deliberated a moment; my answer, when it did come, was objectionable: "i must keep in good health, and not die."
to your astonishment, you actually hear him chuckle, but when he looks over and finds your self satisfied smirk, any hint of humor disappears from his face in the blink of an eye. your hand quickly moves to your mouth to stifle a giggle.
"something you want to say?" he baits you.
"nope, nothing at all!"
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two nights later, he's already nearing the end of the story and you refrain from commenting about how quickly he's made his way through.
you doubt he'd allow your current position if you had— you're laying on your side, your head resting comfortably in his lap, one hand occupying the space above his knee.
when you asked if it was okay, all he offered you was a clipped, "i suppose."
your hair is splayed across his thigh and your eyes fluttered shut a while ago. when he agreed to this, he didn't realize how distracting it'd be. his gaze flickers between you and the words on the page with embarrassing frequency.
he's decided what you call cuddling is absolutely suffocating. how anyone could actually enjoy it, he's sure he'll never comprehend. he can hardly concentrate on the novel that's right in front of him—
"read to me, 'kuna," you mumble, interrupting his thoughts. it surprises him that you're still awake.
he scoffs. "what do i look like? your personal audiobook?"
"you didn't even know those existed until like a week ago," you laugh. "c'mon, pleaaaaaase."
he stays quiet for a few moments, so you're under the impression he may just ignore your request. as such, you're exceptionally pleased when his voice fills the otherwise still apartment.
you think the sound of his voice is comforting, an idea that would more than likely make him cringe, so you keep it to yourself. after all, you don't want him to stop.
at some point or another, he begins twirling a strand of your hair around his finger whenever he's not turning the page, an action that seems to take place without his noticing.
occasionally he'll pause to ask if you're even listening. it's an odd feeling that blossoms in his stomach when you assure, "mhmm. every word."
as he reaches the second to last chapter, he reads a line that makes you question whether your heart's stopped beating. you're not sure if it's because of the tone of his voice, the words he's imparting, or some mix thereof.
"no—no—jane; you must not go. no—i have touched you, heard you, felt the comfort of your presence—the sweetness of your consolation: i cannot give up these joys. i have little left in myself—I must have you. the world may laugh—may call me absurd, selfish—but it does not signify."
he stops reading, as if he too feels the sense of unease that's invaded the air. against your better judgement, you turn to look at him. his eyes are glued to the page, almost like they're avoiding you, and his jaw is tense.
"my very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”
when his gaze finally lands on you, his expression is almost pained. it's a strange contrast to the warm fondness you spot in his eyes.
you quickly push that thought away, however. whatever you believe you may have seen, you're probably just deluding yourself. you know you aren't his least favorite person, but surely he'd never feel even half of that sentiment toward you—
your breath catches in your throat when his hand reaches up, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. he still marvels at the fact you don't shy away from his touch, that you're usually the one to seek out contact with him.
perhaps the story is not as asinine as he expected it to be. rochester presumes jane will find him revolting, yet she still agrees to be with him, even after his selfishness has been made plain to her. after the sins of his past have caught up to him.
no, no, no.
to be so desperate for some woman's approval, or her devotion for that matter, is despicable. rochester's nothing less than foolish and sukuna isn't anything like him.
but you're certainly like jane, aren't you? fearless, passionate, and determined: all things he can't help but find endearing...
gods, what is this turmoil? it's making him feel pathetic and there isn't an emotion in the world he hates more—
you distract him from his internal monologue when your fingers wrap around his wrist and bring his knuckles to your lips. "you okay?"
"of course," he mutters, pulling his hand away. "just trying to get past all the mawkishness."
"really? you think it's that bad?" you question, the frown on your lips igniting that ache in his chest that appears whenever you're upset.
"it's not terrible," he sighs, realizing there may indeed be one thing he despises even more than feeling pathetic. "although i don't understand how jane is so taken with rochester."
you seem to ponder this for a moment before shrugging. "love is weird."
"what a clever analysis."
you slap his chest playfully. "oh, whatever. just keep going, you're almost finished!"
and you're right. he does reach the end of jane eyre that night, but not before you fall asleep on his lap. he closes the book, running a finger down the creased spine and setting it down carefully. it's obvious you've read it several times.
admittedly, he can see why, but he'd be caught dead before he'd ever tell you as much.
left alone with his thoughts, he considers the impossibility of jane and rochester: a charming, headstrong woman and a cruel, arrogant man.
leaning forward, he whispers your name to make certain you're asleep, then places a lingering kiss to your forehead.
"..sweet dreams."
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twizzie-lairs · 9 months ago
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 8)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Quick Notes:
You, the reader who is an artist, and had become Alastor's sweetheart, but unfortunately died too early.
Now, you're in hell.
Part 8:
Your arrival in hell was a quiet one, hardly a soul around to even notice you in what looked like a barren desert. But red. So much red everywhere. The sky, the ground, all of it- red.
You looked down at your hands, you looked different. You looked... not quite human.
"So this is hell, isn't it?" You said yourself out loud. "I thought it would be more... populated.. and.. different."
But what really caught your eye was a ring on the ring finger of your left hand. You don't recall ever wearing a ring there before you died.
But then it dawned on you... Alastor. This ring was from him. It had to be. Tears welled up in your eyes as you sniffled. It just had to be and you thanked whatever higher powers that existed for allowing this one thing to be brought with you to Hell after you died.
After walking for miles, hardly seeing any sign of civilization- or whatever it's called down here, you happen upon a small town situated in an oasis.
Well, a hell.. version of an oasis. It wasn't water in the center of this town, lava maybe? Blood? Either way, you figured this would be where you'd have to get your start and find your bearings as a new denizen of Hell.
After talking to some (begrudging) locals, you found out you were in what's called the "Ring of (insert whatever ring of hell you want to be in, except pride)"
With the basic information given to you (and then being told to figure the rest out, as the locals spat in your face) you figured you would have to settle here for now.
So settle you did, until you had enough resources to get to a bigger city.
In life, you were an artist, it was the one thing you felt like you could do best, so that's what you decided to do in Hell too.
For many years, you were the definition of a starving artist. You moved from town to town, city to city, with only enough money to get you through each day.
You didn't have a home to call your own, so you often had to find small little nooks and crannies in backstreets and alleyways at night.
During the day, you offered super cheap portraits on the street. Some sinners scoffed and looked down at you, calling you all sorts of degrading names that you had never heard before. Meanwhile other sinners were so vain, demanding you capture their beauty to their unrealistic standards. But you gave them what they wanted, after all, beggars can't be choosers down here.
This same cycle repeated for many long years, until a few decades later, you found yourself slowly working for higher-profile clients, starting from a variety of store owners until you eventually had your first Overlord client commission you to make a large-scale magnificent portrait of them.
After this big break, you began to get more commissions from other Overlords, both big and small.
It was around this time, decades after your arrival to Hell, that you found yourself not starving anymore. You didn't have to worry about the day-to-day, and even though you could afford a really nice place even in a big city of one of the rings of hell, you chose to keep it more low-key and stayed in a small, humble apartment.
It was easy to relocate and take the bare minimum essentials and move onto the next town, city, or ring of Hell.
Even after many decades in Hell, you never forgot about the love of your life- Alastor.
It's why you chose to live in such a small apartment, with not many material belongings except for your work/art materials.
You made it easy to pick up and move because you were searching for Alastor all these years.
You didn't want to sound insulting, but you knew he had to end up in Hell too.
But it was hard to find one specific person in all of hell. After all, you knew you had to tread carefully. Names and connections hold a lot of power and reign supreme down here.
Unfortunately, this led you to a bunch of dead ends or nothing at all. Investigating wasn't really your strong suit, but you did your damn best.
As you were reminiscing the past, both of your life on Earth and in the years you've resided in Hell (which doubled or was even close to tripling the number of years as you lived on Earth at this point), you got up from your chair and decided it was time to pack up again.
One of your acquaintances that was a lackey to one of the Overlords in the area let you know that a turf war was going to happen soon, so you figured now was the time to pack up and make your way to the only ring of hell you hadn't been to- the Pride ring.
Given the nature of your business, you had a feeling business would be booming in the Pride ring. You had a feeling that the Pride ring would be your best bet to make connections and find any potential leads on where the love of your life would be.
However, every time you traveled into a new ring, you had to sneak in as unnoticed as possible because "sinners" aren't supposed to be able to travel freely between the rings of hell.
It was a wonder that you still had ownership over your own soul after all these years, especially considering you've done many commissions for high-profile demons and Overlords throughout almost all of the rings of hell at this point.
You sigh as you bring your hood over your head and leave your home with just a briefcase of art supplies once more.
-> Part 9
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ellecdc · 8 months ago
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This is my first ever time requesting and i feel a tad nervous about it. Since i don’t know how the whole thing works.
Okay so i've seen in your previous posts that you said you don't write for barty jr as a central character but imma request anyways and maybe just maybe i'm lucky and you do end up writing this request (no pressure tho sweetie)
Basically a Ravenclaw reader x reg x barty. Reader is a total sweetheart but also very witty, playful and sassy in a sweet way. and marauders are also involved in the fic. (Maybe reader is neighbors with James or maybe she's beasties with rem. I don't mind. you decide that.)
Your moonwater x reader one shot was so cute and i’m just craving more of your writing.
Anyways thank you and also if you don’t want to write for barty just replace him with another character or just ignore this whole request. 💗
🤨🤨🤨🤨 I wanted to say no on account of I really don't know that I want to write for Barty BUT....you're just too cute and I love you too much and I didn't want to say no to you on your first request [which: thanks so much for bestowing me with such an honour]. 🤨🤨🤨🤨 cheeky little minx, I bet you did that on purpose 😉
So I present to you, for possibly the only time ever on ellecdc.... poly!bartylus x Ravenclaw!reader
CW: Barty jokes (?) about wanting to kill people - very on brand for him
“Reggiiieeeee.” Barty whined as he walked into their shared dorm room where Regulus had been reading due to the fact that Barty had taken up residence in the Slytherin common room, making reading nearly impossible.
Regulus stifled a sigh and offered a begrudging “yes, my love?” as Barty belly-flopped onto the bed and muttered something (unintelligible) miserably into the velvet quilts.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Regulus asked, deciding to bookmark his place and give his boyfriend his undivided attention (anything less could end up being detrimental to both Regulus and Barty’s safety).
Barty lifted his head with a pout on his lips to look at Regulus. “How mad do you think Y/N would be if I killed Potter and his friends?”
Point proven. 
“I’m sorry, what?” Regulus deadpanned, causing Barty to groan and roll onto his side.
“It’s just she’s always spending so much time with them and they’re all so annoying. And I don’t want to tell her to not hang out with them” (that was a lie; Regulus has heard Barty tell you that the Marauders were 'no good company to keep' well over hundreds of times) “so, I thought it’d just be better if they...disappeared, you know?”
“What have you done?” Regulus groaned darkly, causing Barty to chuckle.
“Nothing! Nothing...” yet. 
“You do realize that your hit list includes my brother, right?” Regulus asked.
Barty looked at him like he was sort of stupid. “Uhm...duh, it’s called hitting two bludgers with one beater-bat. Do keep up.”
“Barty, you are going to scare her away...” Regulus pressed. “...you’re kind of scaring me away.”
Barty’s groan nearly turned into a shriek as he threw himself back down onto the bed in defeat.
“Fine. But when we’re trying to enjoy a nice moment with Y/N and Potter and his cronies interrupt, it will be all your fault.” 
And with that Barty got up and stormed out of the dorm room. Regulus sighed in relief and pulled his book back out.
So, when the three of you were wandering around Hogsmeade (i.e., you and Regulus were walking hand-in-hand whilst Barty followed, balancing precariously on the stone walls of bridges as well as some fences lining various properties (much to the shop clerks and homeowners’ chagrin), pausing to pet every cat he could find and seeing how many times he could skip stones in the pond [the answer was none, he kept throwing them too hard]), Regulus got proven wrong (somehow), and (even more importantly) Barty got proven right when Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus showed up.
“Hey guys!” You called cheerily, and Regulus was almost ashamed to admit that your sweet smile and kind voice cancelled out any chagrin that the appearance of his brother caused him.
“Hello gorgeous! Baby bro.” Sirius called with a wink, causing Regulus to roll his eyes.
“Can I help you four!?” Barty nearly screeched as he showed up seemingly out of nowhere, all but standing directly in front of you like he was trying to shield you from the sight a particularly horrifying broom crash.
“Barty...” You chided jovially, gently nudging him aside. “They’re just saying hello.”
Sirius looked rather chuffed that you had defended them. Regulus didn’t like that one bit.
“Okay, well hello. You can leave now.” Barty shouted.
“Oh, lighten up, Junior.” Remus called with a smirk. “We’re all friends here.” 
Barty scoffed. “I’d rather shit in my hands and clap than be friends with Gryffindor’s.”
“Ew.” Everyone else said in response.
“Come on, my sweet, beautiful, angelic, lovely, smart, wonderful girl. I don’t want you or our beautiful day to be tainted by such scoundrels.” He cooed at you like you were some toddler on the verge of tears from having dropped your ice cream on the ground.
You groaned a little bit but acquiesced, allowing Barty to turn your body in the opposite direction.
“Sorry guys. I’ll see you tomorrow for our study date!” You called over your shoulder, to which Barty quickly counteracted with a “no you won’t!”
“You know, love,” Regulus murmured into your ear, “you’d probably save him a little bit of grief if you at least didn’t call it a date.” 
“Perhaps. But look at him now.” You whispered back conspiratorially. “He’s holding my hand and talking a mile a minute about how much of his dad’s money he wants to spend on us at Tomes & Scroll’s.”
Regulus couldn’t help but smirk at that. 
A Ravenclaw may have been smart enough to come up with a plan like this, but only the influence of your two Slytherin boyfriends would have made you cunning enough to pull it off. 
AN: I don't know how I feel about this one bit
867 notes · View notes
muddyorbsblr · 1 month ago
Text
bad feeling
See my full list of works here!
Summary: Loki's entrance into the Avengers Compound depends on your approval
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 4.3k
Warning/s: minor character that's teeming with douchebag energy and doesn't age check before sliding into the DMs; language (nope still not sorry, Rogers); my rusty af writing (it's been months and honestly this might be cringe but if it is don't tell me i'm sensitive--) [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: metahuman Reader in denial; instalove trope alert (i didn't think i'd ever be writing that but here we are)
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"Brother, this is truly unnecessary," Loki groaned, fighting every urge to drag his feet as his brother led him down the halls of the Avengers Compound, avoiding the mix of curious and alarmed stares from the Midgardians donning near-identical jumpsuits. "Rogers' begrudging approval of your truly asinine idea was enough, you need not lead introductions. I am quite sure that Stark and the rest of your comrades have not forgotten who I am."
Thor simply rolled his eyes in response. "Of course they have not forgotten, Brother, but we have had quite the number of newcomers, and I will run not the risk of them reacting with hostility if they cross paths with you. So I shall conduct a simple extemporized introductory session with them so they may…acclimate to your presence in the Compound. And not think it a clandestine invasion and trigger a security lockdown."
As if right on cue, two faces, one familiar and the other quite new to the god of mischief approached, the sounds of their jovial exchange coming to a deadening halt. The smiles on their faces quickly morphed into furrowed brows and battle stances. "Thor, why have you brought him here?" the woman with auburn hair questioned, a red energy that he recognized as Chaos Magic forming in her hands while her companion, Romanoff, looked ready to strike.
"Please, stand down, my friends." The blond god held his hands up in front of them. "He means no harm, I promise you. I've brought him here so that perhaps he could join--"
"Not a fucking chance, Barbie," Romanoff seethed. "I still remember the mind job he did--Wanda what are you doing? Why are you actually listening--"
"Because some time ago I did what you call a 'mind job' on the rest of you," she answered the former Russian spy simply, standing down and waving her magic away. "And now here I get to stand, calling you all my friends. Because you forgave me for my misdeeds. Gave me a second chance. I think we should all extend the same kindness now."
"I commend the way you think, Maximoff," Rogers' voice echoed across the common area, bystanders not so subtly beginning to crowd the area surrounding them, only parting to let the super soldier through and take his stance in the middle of the group. "Much as I'm not the biggest fan of Mister Leather and Metal 'you will all kneel before me', Wanda's right." He took a step back and addressed the room. "Everyone, Loki will be joining us for the foreseeable future. I expect you all to make an effort to help him adjust to his new life here on Earth. Or at least not get in his way. Now, back to work. All of you."
The curious agents all scattered about, returning to their tasks prior to the Asgardian brothers arriving.
"Thank you, Steven," Thor spoke up once the bystanders made themselves scarce. "You will not regret--"
"Not so fast, Odinson." Rogers threw his hand up, stopping his brother's words short. "I want him to meet Y/L/N first. If she says he won't give us any grief, then he can stay. She says no? You'll have to find another place to park your brother."
"Hey--!" Loki fought back the urge to throw a dagger in the soldier's direction. "I am not some meager property that needs to be set down--"
"If you would rather Strange lock you back in an eternal fall, that can be arranged," he shot back, the muscles in his jaw twitching in a telltale sign that he was fighting back a smug grin. He motioned toward the interrogation area, showing the way. "Meet Y/L/N, and we'll go from there."
Thor led the way further into the Compound and past the common area, the temperature dropping significantly and impelling the god to cast an enchantment that would raise his core temperature so as to not trigger his Jotun form to emerge. "Apologies, Brother," he spoke as they made their way down the hall. "There have been suspicions that an intern for one of SHIELD's departments has been a HYDRA operative attempting to pilfer data to fuel some form of invasion. This individual is in one of the interrogation rooms now awaiting Y/N's arrival, and the temperature was her idea. Put the young man in a sense of high discomfort to lower his guards."
"Have him focus on making his body cope with the temperature rather than his mind on deflecting her queries," he surmised, nodding his head as they stepped into the viewing area, laying eyes on the clearly novice employee in that same jumpsuit the others wore outside. His breathing was jittery and labored, rubbing his hands furiously to generate even some form of heat. It wouldn't be difficult to break through his defenses. "She's a clever one, that mortal. Though I could save you all the interrogation and read the lad's mind--"
"No no," Thor waved him off, motioning for him to look into the room once more. "I want you to see her at work. It's rather fascinating watching her work, and the machination of her mind is rather…perplexing."
"Should we be contacting one Doctor Foster to inform her of his…fascination of yours, Brother?" he gibed, raising an eyebrow in suspicion and finding himself a touch more curious when Thor simply laughed off the question.
"My heart is Jane's and Jane's alone, Brother. You know this," he answered, giving his brother a pointed look. Guilt sat heavily on his heart, knowing full well the words that the god of thunder chose to omit. Considering that I destroyed the Bifrost just to protect her from you.
It would take time before amends were made for making that particular threat, no matter how empty it truly was.
Before Loki could say anything, the door on the other side of the two-way mirror opened, a hard-faced Agent Romanoff entering the room and taking the seat opposite the suspected traitor. She made a point to shrug off her jacket and bare her arms, the action making the young man's face twist in derision, undoubtedly because it challenged his quite fragile ego even more.
"I have nothing to say to you," he said, the shaking tone of his voice betraying him. "Why aren't you cold? You all did something to me, didn't you? Made your freaky witch friend cast some curse on me?"
Romanoff leaned back against her chair, her smirk growing as his scowl deepened. "Where I was from, this is what summer felt like," she shot back casually, keeping her tone even despite the bold-faced lie. "And I don't need you to say anything." She jutted her chin in the direction of the door, a proud look on her face as you walked in to the room. "I just need her to look at you."
"Mister Park…" you droned, taking your time to cross the distance from the door to the cold metal desk. "I'm Agent Y/L/N, I'll be your interrogator."
You leaned in to the edge of the table, gripping the corners. Your body stiffened for a few seconds as you took a sharp breath, adjusting to the frigid cold. There was a distant, calculating, enigmatic smile on your face as your eyes roamed his features. Almost as if you were picking away at the fragments of his protective shell, exposing the answers he refused to give with just that one look.
It was a sight that was all too familiar to him. Something his mother would use on suspected traitors to the Realm back in Asgard. Perhaps that was what you were doing, after all. Or perhaps it was a well-crafted facade. Something that Romanoff or another former spy within SHIELD's ranks had taught you to unnerve its recipient.
"Like I told Agent Hot Stuff over there, I have nothing to say to any of you," he sneered.
"And like Agent Romanoff told you, we don't need you to say anything. All you have to do…is sit there." You squinted your eyes at him, sighing deeply as you said the words that apparently cemented the suspected traitor's fate. "I've got a bad feeling about you." You leaned in close, invading his personal space and making him even more visibly uneasy, not even bothering to mask how his body was shaking. "Nice contacts."
In a heartbeat, Agent Romanoff leaned across the desk and grasped the bottom of the apparently confirmed traitor's face, the man they called Park now wincing and groaning in even more discomfort as she inspected his eyes. "Implants?" she asked you.
"Seems buddy boy here's really committed to the cause," you remarked, mocking their organization's salute. "Helium Hydrogen or some shit."
Park slammed his fists down on the table, neither woman even flinching at the outburst. As if you both saw it coming. "It's Heil Hydra, you stupid bitch!" he screamed, fighting against Romanoff's hold and trying to stand up from his seat to charge at you.
You, however, simply responded with a self-satisfied grin as you called out toward the other side of the door, "And there's our verbal confirmation! Lock 'im up." And just to goad the traitorous intern on further, you ruffled his hair and looked him dead in the eyes and said, "Thank you for your cooperation."
Right as you said the words, Rogers burst into the room along with two other agents, flanking him and restricting his movement so he couldn't charge at anyone in the room. "Put him in the holding cells until transport gets here," he instructed the agents, who simply nodded and walked the traitor out of the room.
You and Romanoff turned off the lights and walked out arm in arm. Loki caught a smidgen of your conversation about meeting the significant other of another new Avenger. Something about "earning your stamp of approval".
"What did I tell you, Brother?" Thor prompted, nudging his arm.
"Fascinating," he mumbled, unable to wipe the image of that enigmatic smile of yours from his mind. Wondering what you looked like when you were genuinely beaming at something. Or someone. "It seems she's somewhat telepathically inclined."
"That is what many of us have been trying to tell her, but she refuses to listen. Insists that she is simply better inclined at reading others from her years of dreadfully flawed relationships of 'every kind'," he explained, leading him down the same hallway that you and Romanoff had disappeared to moments ago. "Repeatedly tells us that her most effective and only teacher has been, in her words, her life's revolving door of shitty people."
"And Rogers wishes for me to meet this Y/N so that she may what? Approve of my being here? He defers to her when it comes to newcomers in your merry band of his realm's mightiest heroes?" He tried to mask his curiosity with his signature smarm, trying to seem disinterested in what seemed like an initiation rite.
But in truth he was all the more looking forward to being face to face with you.
"She has not yet been incorrect in the years that I have known her. And you have nothing to fret about, Brother. You will make a fine addition to this team," the blond said proudly, both of them finally arriving to the considerably warmer common area. Loki finally lifted his enchantment, no longer concerned of his Jotun form emerging as his brother raised his hand and called out in your direction, "Y/N! I have returned from Asgard and there is someone I wish for you to meet--"
"In a minute, Barbie. Carter's bringing in her latest beau. Something about her wanting me to have a read on him before she gets too invested," you answered him, throwing your hand up in their direction. You threw a cursory glance their way, barely registering the raven-haired god, before returning your gaze to the door where another unfamiliar face walked in, arm in arm with a man whose entire aura screamed 'philanderer'.
"Y/N, I'd like you to meet Nathan. Nathan, sweetie, this is my friend--"
"Wow you're stunning," the man said, raising his hand in front of him, seemingly to shake yours. But the positioning seemed…off. As if he were to turn your hand and kiss the back of it the second you even brought yours a fraction of an inch upward.
One look into this Nathan's thoughts all but confirmed it. Along with all the other deplorable indiscretions he had stacked against him.
If the god's suspicions were right and you truly were telepathically inclined, you would see those indiscretions, too. With the right guidance, you could explore the true scope of your abilities. Perhaps even advance them.
Your unmoving stance brought along a disquiet to your friend's features, her smile fading into a grim line as her eyes drooped and her posture slumped. She'd seen this reaction from you before, and she seemed to already brace herself for your next words.
"I've got a bad feeling about you," you said in an ominous tone, standing at your full height before tilting your head slightly. From where he stood, Loki could see the man grow visibly anxious, his pulse quickening and beating furiously against his neck.
"What--Why what'd you see?" your friend croaked out, fighting back sobs.
You chose to instead address the deplorable excuse of a man. "You checked out no less than three women since you walked through the front door, and at least twice you wondered if any of them would be down for a threesome. You have a secret social media account that you use to sext other women and send them your dick pics, ohh and by the way…that pump that you're using? Doesn't do shit."
The god had never seen someone's complexion visibly pale until now, Nathan losing all color in his face as if he'd been drained of blood. "You--You d-don't know what you're talking about, you fucking freak!" He looked to Carter, his eyes rife with panic. "Babe, your weird friend here's just pulling this all out of her ass, she's lying--"
His paltry laughable excuses were cut off with a chorus of hissing sounds and "ooh"s and "yikes" from your team, as if his words were so offensive they physically stung. Stark spoke up, clapping his hand down on the man's shoulder. "Now see here, Rudolph the horny reindeer, you've made at least five mistakes since you stepped through that door. But calling Y/N here a liar? Yeah, that dug your grave, dick for brains."
"Well then she's wrong!" he whined, grabbing for his lover's hands and holding on with a death grip. "Baby, you know me, I'm your pookie bear. I would never hurt you--"
"Oof goddamn now I wish I was lying," you quipped, a mixture of surprise and disgust coloring your features. "You couldn't waterboard that nickname out of me. Maybe try going for something that doesn't sound like a name a toddler would give a stuffed animal for the next one? You probably have her all lined up, right? Somewhere in all those DMs and FaceApp'd shrimpy photoshoots?" You took a step closer, not seeming to care about how his free hand was clenched so tightly into a fist that it began to shake. "By the way, I hope you age checked those girls. I'll give you two pieces of free advice. First? Age of consent in New York is seventeen. Second? Don't treat it like a damn target."
Your friend Carter finally jerked her hand out of his and struck him across the face, the sound reverberating through the common area. Stark raised his brows and nodded at her in approval, making a remark about how he wished he had some popcorn.
"It's over," she told him. "I don't ever want to hear from you again." Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she said the words and motioned toward the same door they walked through just minutes before.
"I'm not going anywhere," he insisted, acting like a misbehaving toddler and stomping his foot. "Why would you even believe this freaky little bitch over your own boyfriend, I thought we had some--"
"Because we trust her, cradle robber. And to this day she's never been wrong about a damn thing," Stark sniped, walking over and putting himself between you and the increasingly belligerent Nathan. He placed a tablet in Carter's hands. "I took the liberty of getting into his second account and sending screenshots of his messages to…well, just about everyone in his contacts list. But I figured you ought to see it and scroll through the messages first hand, Sharon."
At this moment, Loki caught another glimpse into the philandering man's mind, seeing a vision of him intending to attack you and strangle you with his bare hands. And just as the god suspected, you had glimpsed the same thought running through his mind, side stepping out of the way just before Nathan could get a hold of you. He watched with more than mild amusement as Thor stepped forward next and grabbed the whining man by the back of his shirt and lifting him into the air.
"Any mortal capable of even the tiniest amount of coherent thought would know better than to attack my friends," the blond said in a low, authoritative tone that eerily reminded Loki of their father. He promptly walked Nathan to the same door that he and Carter had walked through; Loki could see that his brother was physically fighting the urge to give the impudent puny mortal a swift kick to his rear as he gave him a nudge out of the premises.
"Thank you, Barbie," you spoke, an equally amused look on your face after witnessing the whole ordeal. "Always knew it was a good idea to have an Asgardian bouncer guard dog around."
Once Thor had made his way back to you and the rest of the team, you and he grasped each other's forearms. A show of respect that the blond oaf usually only had reserved for his closest comrades, the Warriors Four. Only recently had he even done that with Loki, and while the god of mischief would never admit it aloud, the gesture had him fighting back that traitorous prickling in the backs of his eyes.
"Speaking of having Asgardians in the Compound, there is someone I wish for you to meet, Lady Y/N," he spoke, motioning toward his brother. You tilted your head, a smile so starkly different from the one you had in the interrogation room brightening your features the moment your eyes met Loki's. "This is my brother, and he could be quite an invaluable asset to the team."
"With your go ahead, Agent Y/L/N," Rogers spoke from his seat, intently watching the scene play out before him. Once again agents had begun to crowd around them, completely halting their movements to bear witness. "Like Stark said, we trust you."
You barely gave a response, the only indicator that you'd even heard Rogers' words being a slight jut of your chin in his direction. Loki took your considerably smaller outstretched hand in his, taking every bit of his strength to stay upright as the visions bombarded his mind. The smallest gasp slipped from your lips. You took a moment to compose yourself before you spoke, addressing the team.
"All clear, he can stay," you announced, a boisterous whoop coming from Thor the second you gave your judgment. Neither of you made a move to let go of the other's hand.
"Okay not to take a page out of your book here, jellybean, but…" Stark spoke, breaking you two out of your own little bubble. He pointed his finger back and forth between you and the raven-haired god. "I've got a bad feeling about the two of you."
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Stop smiling, you literal idiot, you chided yourself as you paced the floor of your apartment. There was no logical reason to even be thinking of the new member of the team now that you weren't around him, and yet you couldn't get the jet black-haired Asgardian dressed in dark emerald leather out of your mind.
The bar must have been in hell if all it took to get you to actually smile was the fact that the second you two met eyes, no alarm bells went off the way that they did for that newbie traitor…or Sharon's now ex boyfriend. The only hunch that you got looking at him was that he was definitely there to watch the interrogation and trying to figure out how you clocked the iris implants on Park.
"Maybe if he figures it out, he could clue me in on it, too, because I don't have the foggiest fucking idea where that came from," you muttered into the emptiness. And then like clockwork, you found yourself thinking about his blinding brilliant smile again.
And the way his hand completely dwarfed yours.
And how even in those few moments in the common room, being around him for some reason blanketed you in this feeling as if, for the first time in a long time, you didn't have to be as careful anymore. Like you no longer had to constantly be looking over your shoulder because someone might actually have your back and--
"Now you're just being ridiculous, Y/N," you grumbled at yourself, staring down your reflection. "How many times have you had your heart shattered from trusting too easily? Feeling safe around him is exactly why you shouldn't feel safe, why is it that for all the people that trust your instincts, you can't seem to listen to them yourself? And have I lost my freaking mind I am talking to my own--"
Knock knock knock
The sound came from your front door, snapping you out of your rant. "Who in the fuck?"
A lump formed in your throat when you opened the door, looking up at the exact stormy blue eyes that refused to leave your mind since you met him a little over an hour ago. The ones that made a question form in your mind that you couldn't bring yourself to voice out.
Why do I have a good feeling about you?
"Loki…" you said his name slowly, trying your best to ignore how bizarrely right it felt to say it. As if you were meant to. As if you were going to say it -- scream it, even -- for years to come.
"Good evening, Y/N." What you couldn't ignore was how the sound of your name from his lips made your knees want to buckle. "I wish to speak to you about something that I saw when I touched your hand earlier. A vision. Of the future."
The lump in your throat suddenly got bigger. "Ohh God am I gonna die? Soon? Because if I am I don't want spoilers, not even hints, what's gonna happen is gonna--"
"I saw us," he cut you off, reaching for your hands and rubbing circles on the inside of your wrists. "Years of stolen glances and missed opportunities and unsaid words. And it was only at the brink of losing you forever that I finally would find the courage to tell you of my affections."
There were no words, all you could do was blink at him as you tried to process his words. Looking desperately for the telltale signs that there was a disconnect between what he was saying and what his actual intentions were for coming to you like this. The disconnect that was present with most men that you were face to face with.
And yet your intuition, that hadn't failed you for as long as you could remember, was practically squealing with glee that you could feel safe around the god.
"Why are you telling me this?" you asked him. You were surprised you could even form words. Or that you somehow managed to bite your tongue from letting slip a more abrasive question.
He stepped closer to you, a soft smile on his face as he gently framed your face with his hands. "I don't wish to spend the next years pining away and foolishly waiting for the timing to be just right. I had glimpsed our future, and it was…" His smile widened into a brilliant grin, his thumbs tracing along your cheekbones. "It was resplendent. Having even the most fleeting glimpse that what we would have, it had me awash with…peace. The kind that I had longed for for centuries."
Your breath hitched when he pressed his lips to your forehead, your heart pounding away furiously in your chest. You knew a little too well the feeling that he was describing. That feeling of peace. Of a calm quietude that put you at ease even if the world would have been crashing down around you.
That feeling like you were home.
"Now as for your unspoken question," he whispered, breath warming your skin. "Of what am I doing here…I wish to change that future. Or rather, hasten it along. If that is what you want as well, of course."
He pressed his forehead to yours, loosely wrapping his arms around you. All you could do was nod, secretly grateful that he was holding you upright because the violent fluttering in your stomach was making it hard to stand.
That feeling spread throughout your entire body like wildfire when he briefly brushed his lips against yours; you could feel how much restraint he was exerting to pull away. To test the waters. To wait for you to tell him it was alright.
And you let out the words that were fighting to break free since you first saw him earlier today. "I have a good feeling about you."
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A/N: *peeks out from behind the laptop* ohai there…long time no see 🙈 Imma say it again because it bears repeating: I'm rusty as all fuck and I might be for a while, but I'm trying to get back into writing since I haven't really done much ever since starting the new job. But things are finally beginning to settle down and normalize, so I'm trying to somehow find a groove again.
I'm gonna be so real w/ y'all, the next stuff on my queue is RTC and 'the final Lady Sharpe' and with how rusty my prose feels, I'm so scared to touch them 😂
Also this is another story that was inspired by a TikTok pov trend. The one where people lip sync and act along to the song that goes "Oompa Loompa doopadeedoo I've got a bad feeling about you", as if it wasn't cringe enough 🥴🫡
'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist
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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago
Text
I've Got You
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Kept thinking about Astarion being cold and Tav being warm and then took another step. Open-ended because I have no idea how to write the other companions and I'm not about to start figuring it out now lol
Warnings: fever, fever chills
Word Count: 626
Masterlist
AO3
Astarion ran cold, this was not new information. A dead body - even one that could walk, fight, speak and more - had a difficult time retaining heat. You offered a way to counteract this.
Your body, full of pumping, delicious blood and a beating heart, radiated heat. Even when you were cold, your skin was as warm as sunlight on his face.
It was hard to allow himself this comfort, at first. It was all he could focus on during your prior intimate moments, but now that you knew his, ahem, complicated relationship with sexual intimacy, you'd been showing him non-sexual physical intimacy. Cuddling, hand holding - that sort of thing. He was stiff the first couple times. And you never begrudged him when he let go or pulled away from the contact. And that was... a lot. It meant a lot.
So, with time, he allowed himself to seek you out. Indulge in your body heat and gentle caresses. At night, you could be barely awake and still open your bedroll to him. Any downtime was passed against your side.
Maybe that's why he noticed the change so quickly. When he sought you out in the night and your body was hot. It almost burned him to touch you.
"Darling," he coaxed, cupping your cheek with a cold hand as he tried waking you. Your eyes fluttered open weakly, and you leaned into his hand with a quiet sigh. Oh, this was not like you at all. "Dear, you're burning up."
You hummed. The words weren't reaching you. All you did was reach out to him. When he slipped into the bedroll with you, you immediately latched onto him. Your forehead was like fire against his neck.
Astarion sighed and wrapped you in his arms. A shiver jolted through you at the temperature difference. "I don't envy how you'll feel come morning."
You groaned quietly against him, annoyed with how his voice rumbled against you. Ah, so you had a headache, too, then.
"I always forget you mortals are so fragile." He tries to speak softer than a whisper. The words are barely audible in the cool night air, but they're more for him anyway. "One sneeze and you're practically on death's door."
Seeing you so weak, so defenseless, terrified him. You were so strong - he'd never seen anyone take down enemies as efficiently as you aside from himself - and yet a minor illness could bring you down so fast. Determined shouts and commands, exchanged for pained whimpers and chattering teeth. He had no idea how you could be shivering when it felt like he was hugging Karlach, but he did his best to help.
Throughout the night, he placed cold hands against your neck, stomach, forehead - anywhere he felt could cool you down. When your fever made you sweat, he brushed it away with the edge of your blanket. There were a few moments when you stopped shaking, but they never lasted long enough. Murmurs of odd dreams reached his ears during the worst episodes. He wished to reach into your mind and remove whatever made you so distraught, but it was almost like your tadpole was dormant, like it was fighting off your illness, too.
He did not eat that night. He feared he would slip out to catch a boar and come back to find you completely still and colder than him. No, staying with you was better. He wasn't sure when he began whispering words of encouragement and care into your ear, or when his hand at the nape of your neck curled into your hair and began massaging your scalp. But as the sun rose above the horizon, "I've got you, my love," were the only words he could think to say.
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megalony · 1 year ago
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Buck Jr
This is an Evan Buckley (Buck) request from anon, thank you for this I had so much fun with this. All the requests have been great, any other 911 requests would be great.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway
Masterlist
Summary: When the team get called out to a car crash pile up on the motorway, they find Buck and his heavily pregnant wife in the middle of the crash.
Enjoy.
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"Just one more month left," Evan glanced his eyes away from the red light ahead of him and over to (Y/n) perched in the passenger seat.
Despite the calmness in his voice, (Y/n) could see the way he was almost bubbling over with anticipation just thinking about it. She could see the way his hands gripped the steering wheel that little bit tighter and he couldn't help but bounce in his seat like a child waiting for Christmas to arrive.
There was only just over five weeks left and then Evan would be able to meet his baby. He couldn't wait; time seemed to have dragged out and gone so slow since they found out they were expecting and he was ready to have his baby in his arms now. Evan loved how his wife looked while she was pregnant, but despite how good and appealing she looked to him, his arms were craving to hold his baby and he was so pumped and ready to be a dad.
"So, where are you putting this picture, baby?" (Y/n) looked down at the photos in her hands before she glanced over at Evan again just as the lights turned green.
During the pregnancy, Evan had made sure he was at each and every appointment (Y/n) had. One time he got the team to drop him off in the truck, all dressed in his uniform just so he could be there to hold (Y/n)'s hand and see his baby on screen.
And each time they had gone to a scan, Evan had collected all the photos and displayed them in various places. He had one in his locker at the station, one on the fridge at home and another one in his wallet. He didn't have much more room to fit another photo in and (Y/n) dared not think what he would be like once their baby was born and he had actual photos of them. There would be a mess of pictures flying everywhere.
"I don't know, I'll find some room in my wallet I think."
(Y/n) nodded along and moved to put the pictures in her bag that rested between her feet. She had been staring at them for long enough, it was time to put them away before Evan reached out and snatched them from her. He was protective over the photos, he loved showing them off but begrudged giving Maddie one for her fridge.
"What do you say we stop somewhere for dinner? I've got the whole day off after all." Evan reached his free hand out until his fingers could smooth over (Y/n)'s stomach. It was hard to keep his eyes on the road when all he wanted to do was sit and stare at his wife until the sun went down and the moon came up.
"Sounds lovely, baby."
He had been working a lot of shifts recently and the team had been great in swapping a few shifts around so he could be home with (Y/n) when she wasn't feeling well and when she had her appointments. Eddie had even covered one of his shifts in the early stages of (Y/n)'s pregnancy when she rang Evan at the station, crying and gasping that she had thrown up so much she passed out and felt too weak to move. Eddie covered for him so he could go home and take her to the hospital and then stay with her when she was admitted in for the night.
Evan was putting in more shifts to make up for the time off Bobby had already agreed to and secured off for him next month ready for the baby.
Going out for something to eat sounded like a good idea, they had been trying to do more things together recently before the baby arrives.
Evan couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his lips and he started to feather his fingers up and down (Y/n)'s stomach for a few moments until he finally let go to hold the wheel again.
Leaning forward, (Y/n) straightened up to click her spine into place before she reached across and turned up the volume on the radio. She had no idea where Evan had decided to go for dinner but she knew he had somewhere in mind when he switched into the outside lane and deliberately missed their turn off that would have taken them the short way home.
With a smile, (Y/n) rubbed her hand up and down Evan's thigh as she slouched back in her seat but her fingers tightened around his leg when she looked out the window and saw a car speeding past them in the inside lane. The dark rouge car flew ahead of them in the other lane but in a split second, the driver swerved across in front of them where there was barely any room to squeeze between Evan and the car in front.
"Fucking hell!"
Evan slammed his foot on the break but his left arm automatically reached out and planted across (Y/n)'s chest, pushing her back into the seat like an additional seatbelt when they both lurched forward.
He kept his arm pinned to her chest until he could release the break and they weren't in danger of crashing.
"Idiot! What the fuck was he doing?" He thrashed his fist on the horn before going back to gripping the steering wheel, ignoring the shaking that set in through his system. "You alright babe?" He didn't want to take his eyes away from the car in front but he had to sneak two then three glances at (Y/n) to calm his mind down and reassure himself she was alright.
(Y/n) kept one hand curled around the door handle and her other hand moved to her chest when it felt like her heart was about to break free of her ribs but she managed to nod her head and whisper a small 'okay'. She didn't want Evan to worry, he had to focus on the idiot in front of them in case he swerved into another lane or caused an accident.
Evan clicked the indicator and moved back into the other lane, he didn't want to be close to the other car.
But moving lanes didn't make a difference.
"You sure you're okay babe? I think I might-"
The horrid sound of metal clashing and colliding broke Evan's speech and he felt the steering wheel jutter beneath his fingertips when he slammed the breaks so fast and harsh that the tyres started to smoke. He couldn't keep the car going straight, as soon as he slowed down the wheels spun out and the car was turning just as they felt another car crashing into the back of them.
The speeding car in front had crashed into the middle barrier and backfired into the line of traffic and their car was next to collide into the growing pile.
A burning scream ricketed against (Y/n)'s throat and teeth and her eyes slammed closed. She could feel her body tensing and pulling inwards and she scraped her shoes down against the floor to try and steady herself and push back in the seat. Her hand tightened around the door handle and her free hand reached out to hold the dashboard when she heard Evan make a noise between a growl and a scream.
Her head collided with the window and the shock caused static to pound through her ears. Nothing but white noise filtered through (Y/n)'s head and she couldn't concentrate or feel anything but the way the car was shaking and how every muscle tensed to the point they were going to snap.
Evan's head thrashed between the steering wheel, the window and the headrest like a pinball and when he hit the wheel for a second time, he blacked out.
A choked cough bubbled past Evan's lips that made his lungs wheeze and burned the back of his throat.
What happened? Where was he? What was he doing?
The moment he opened his eyes, his head started to pound and ache like someone was hitting him with a hammer. All he could see was the black leather steering wheel and he realised it was smushed against the right side of his face. His neck burned when he lifted his head and slowly tilted himself back so he was sitting upright in the chair with his head lolled back on the headrest.
His right arm was tingling and his fingertips felt like they were turning numb and when he looked down, he realised his lower arm and wrist had been trapped between the side of the chair and the door that had been caved in.
"Oow, fuck…" He hissed gruffly as he slowly wrenched his arm free, earning a large scrape of skin to peel back and slowly trickle blood down to his fingers. But he could still bend his wrist and move his fingers, it didn't feel broken; thankfully.
He dared to move a hand over his chest, wincing and stiffening when he felt at least two broken ribs on the lower right side.
Evan let his head loll to the left but felt his heart rocket up into his throat and choke him when he remembered where he was and what he had been doing. They were going out. They were on their way back from a scan.
(Y/n) was with him.
Oh God, she was in the car with him.
A quiet sob bubbled past Evan's lips and he could feel tears burning up in his eyes when he looked at his wife.
"Babe… baby look at me," Evan flung the seatbelt off so harshly it snapped against the window and backfired against his shoulder but he paid it no mind. His eyes were trained on his wife. She was doubled over, arms bound around her waist and forehead leaned down on the dashboard but he knew she wasn't unconscious. He could see her subtly shaking and hear the little murmurs and groans leaving her lips.
Reaching out, he carefully slipped his hand between her forehead and the dashboard and with his other hand on her lower back, he tried to get her to sit up. He needed to look her over and see if she had any injuries.
"Evan…" (Y/n) reached her hand up to grab his wrist when his hand moved down from her forehead to cup her cheek.
"I'm here, I'm okay. Are you alright, let me look at you." Both his hands moved to skim over her frame and see if he could find any injuries.
He could see she had a gash on her forehead, much like the one he knew he had on his temple since he could feel the blood dripping across his brow. But he couldn't see any cuts or patches of blood seeping through her clothes which was a relief. There was no broken glass or jagged pieces of metal sticking out near her.
"My knee a-and my stomach hurt," (Y/n) didn't dare look Evan in the eye but she could feel the way his hands started to shake and hovered near her stomach. He was desperate to touch her but too afraid in case he hurt her or there was something wrong with the baby.
They had been thrown about in all directions, they were lucky the car hadn't turned upside down in the crash but Evan sure felt like he had gone too many rounds on the waltzers. He didn't dare think what it would be like for their baby or what could have happened to them.
"Okay, I… just try not to move,"
Evan desperately looked through the windshield and in the rar view mirror but there was nothing he could do. They were jammed in an increasing patch of cars and they would be backed up for miles in a matter of minutes. He couldn't get them out and they were on the motorway, he couldn't swerve into the next lane and get out and drive them back to the hospital.
But he could feel a small bubble of relief in his chest when he looked at the dash screen. His phone was connected up to the car and it was set up so that if he ever had a crash- just like this- his phone would alert the emergency services. He didn't have to dial 911, they would know already and he knew countless people would be ringing because there was a crash that was inconveniencing them and their day.
"The team will get us out babe, I promise. You just take deep breaths, I've got you until they get here."
His words settled down one of the thousands of (Y/n)'s petrified nerves and she inched forward so rest her head on his shoulder. She felt his arms curve around her waist and start to smooth up and down her back before he kissed the top of her head, keeping his lips there for a while to calm himself down.
They were both shaking and Evan could feel (Y/n)'s silent tears soaking into his shirt so he started to quietly shush her and hum into her hair to see if it would help calm her down. Panicking wouldn't do them any good.
Evan moved one hand to hold the back of (Y/n)'s head and he tilted his head to press his cheek into her hair which also allowed him to look out the broken windscreen. People were starting to get out their cars and move about, that was a good sign. Anyone relatively uninjured could get out and direct the emergency services to those more in need.
If Evan had been alone in the car he would have been out by now and scanning through the other cars to try and find anyone he could help and look after.
But he had (Y/n) with him.
There was no way Evan was getting out the car and leaving her in here alone when she was heavily pregnant and in shock. He wasn't budging an inch away from her. Today, he was off duty. He wasn't the emergency services, he wasn't a fireman helping rescue people, he was one of the civilians who needed help.
"Evan, it hurts." (Y/n) kept her eyes tightly closed and smothered her face deeper into his shoulder as her hands came up to clench around his shirt.
It felt like her stomach was pulsing and throbbing and she didn't like it at all. She had never felt discomfort like this before and she knew she had been tossed around side to side when the car spun.
"I know baby," Moving his hand from (Y/n)'s hair, Evan slipped his aching arm between them and tried to apply pressure to different parts of her stomach. She wasn't whimpering or flinching like her stomach was tender and he could feel some sort of movement which had to be a good sign but other than that, he wasn't sure what he could do or interpret.
Evan flinched when (Y/n) cried into his shirt and she gripped his hand tight, moving his palm lower down to where the sudden burst of pain had come from.
"You're doing so good, just keep breathing through it and stay calm just for a bit longer baby." He leaned back a little to allow (Y/n) to fold over and bury her face in his legs instead, one hand gripping his thigh and the other holding her stomach as she went back to quiet whimpers. And Evan curled around her, kissing her head and smoothing his hands over her lower back as he started to cry too.
"Oh God, Evan… oow Evan!"
(Y/n) gripped Evan's thighs so tightly he could feel her nails pinching into his skin before he held her shoulders and pulled her back up so he could look at her. But when their eyes met, he saw utter fright hiding in her blown pupils and her hands moved to his biceps. Such a horrid howling noise left her lips that made Evan flinch and his jaw dropped but nothing came out. What had happened?
"What? Baby, what is it?"
"My waters… I- I think the baby's coming," (Y/n) moaned through her words and she could barely see her husband from the tears spilling down her face.
She watched his big doe eyes flip from her, down to her legs where a sudden gushing feeling had errupted all over the seat, and then back up to her eyes again.
"Fuck, fuck! Okay, uh… right." Leaning forward, Evan carefully moved (Y/n) back so she was leaning against the chair and he unbuckled her belt. Relief sweltered through him when he jammed his shoulder into his door and it swung open fairly easily. "I'm gonna look if anyone's arrived yet, then I'll move you into the back, okay?"
"Hm." (Y/n) nodded but she couldn't look at him any longer when another pain rippled through her. She tipped her chin down into her chest and breathed through clenched teeth.
Evan didn't like what he saw when he climbed out the car. At least six other cars were banged up and collided in front of them, including the red car that had cut him off earlier. And when he turned and pushed up on his toes to look behind his own car, another half a dozen cars had crashed and beyond them, everyone had come to a stand still.
The only good thing Evan could see was that there was a hard shoulder down his side of the road that was clear. The team and the ambulances could get down there and reach them without having to cut off the other side of the road or make a rounded approach. It was easy access to the crash site which was what he needed to get (Y/n) help.
He realised he had hurt his ankle when he rounded the front of the car and a red hot shooting pain creeped up the back of his left ankle. It wasn't broken, he knew that but it might be sprained or a muscle snapped, whatever it was he ignored it. (Y/n) was the only thing he could think about.
Nothing had hit the front passenger door which was a relief because Evan managed to open it with ease and he leaned back and opened the back door too. If she was going to have the baby here, depending on how long help took to arrive, he needed her in the back seat. It would be too hard to try and crouch down in the footwell and deliver his baby.
God, Evan might have to deliver his own baby!
"Alright baby, let's get you in the back."
Crouching down in front of her, Evan gently held her legs and turned her round until her feet were dangling down between his legs. He let her dig her fingertips into his shoulders when he secured his arms around her waist and slowly pulled her up, taking her weight when he felt her knees cave in immediately.
"I got you, you're okay," He reassured, speaking into her hair as he slowly started to shuffle away from the door and towards the back seat instead.
(Y/n) buried her face in Evan's shoulder and let him slowly ease her back until his hips brushed against hers and his legs were planted either side of her thighs, caging her beneath him. He lowered her down onto the back seat and effortlessly took her weight again to shuffle her further into the back.
She tried to tilt a little and leaned her back up against the seat, reaching across to brush her thumb against Evan's lower lip for a moment when he hovered over her to grab his jacket that he'd left there earlier.
"Alright babe, let's take a look at you. Good job I've done this with Cap before."
***
"Alright, you all know the drill. Major pile up in the middle of the freeway, if anyone can walk for help direct them to the paramedics. Shout out if you need to cut someone out the car, find anyone stuck and get them free. Chimney you're with me, Eddie go with Hen."
Bobby strapped on his helmet and nodded at his team but his eyes frowned when he looked over at Eddie.
They had parked up on the hard shoulder a few feet away from the crash since the ambulances needed to get round and them be closer to the scene so they could drive ahead and get out of the mess.
"Eddie, what's up?"
"Cap, the blue ford…" Something stirred in Eddie's chest and his fingers curled tighter around his helmet in his hand when he scanned his eyes over the mess. Right off to the right near the middle barrier was a navy blue ford that looked beat up and bashed about, but Eddie knew who drove a car exactly like that and he knew said person wasn't on shift today.
This was the direction away from the hospital where Eddie knew Buck had gone to this morning, he hadn't been able to talk about anything else except how excited he was to have a day off and be with (Y/n).
"What about it?"
"It's Buck!" Eddie dropped his helmet and set off into a sprint the moment he saw a familiar crop of sandy curls come into view when the tall figure stood up next to the car. It was Buck, he could tell it was him from a mile off. He was in the middle of the mess.
Eddie could hear Bobby shouting something through the throng of sirens and panicked cries but he didn't bother trying to make out what he said. And he knew Hen was following close behind him but he didn't slow down to wait for her. If Buck was here trapped in all this then that meant (Y/n) was here too. A pregnant woman in a car crash was never a good thing.
"Buck! Hey, Buck we're here mate! We're here." He waved his arm out to signal his arrival and shuffled the medic bag higher on his other shoulder when he got close and weaved through to Buck's car.
Something rattled in Eddie's chest when he watched Buck pull his shirt over his head and wipe it across his brow before he went back to kneel down in front of the open back seat. What the Hell was he doing? Was he injured- God, was (Y/n) injured? How long had they been here without help?
He barely reached the before Evan spun his upper body round and grabbed Eddie's wrist with what could only be described as desperation.
"The baby's coming!"
Evan was more relieved than he could say that he had been on a few callouts over the years and witnessed women giving birth. It meant he knew roughly what he was expecting and what he was supposed to do to help until someone could get them to the hospital.
He had laid his jacket out on the backseat but the baby was coming now and he had nothing but his shirt to take off so when the baby was here, he had something to wrap them up in and keep his newborn warm.
"Hen, (Y/n)'s in labour over here! Alright (Y/n), how you doing?" Eddie slung the medic bag onto the floor and knelt down beside Evan on the road but when Hen approached, (Y/n) shook her head.
"No one else! I- I don't want anyone else, please…"
"Okay baby, just me and Eddie that's okay." Evan turned to look over at Hen, apologies already burning in his eyes and forming on his tongue but she held her hands out and started moving towards the next car. Hen could understand (Y/n) not wanting a big scene, she wasn't comfortable in this situation and too many people surrounding her was only going to make her feel worse.
"We can handle this, can't we Buck? Did your waters break?"
"Yeah, and she's already started pushing," Evan rested his hand on (Y/n)'s knee when she didn't bother to respond. She couldn't find anything to say when another contraction hit, all she could do was cry and grit her teeth until they were grating down together.
"You work fast, eh?" With a smile, Eddie snapped on a pair of gloves but he stopped and waited when (Y/n) started to move. He could see she wasn't the least bit comfy or relaxed back here and it was understandable, but they didn't have time to move her when she was already so close and giving birth in a stationary car was preferable to a moving ambulance. "Any injuries we need to take care of?"
Pushing forward, (Y/n) wrapped her left arm around the back of the headrest and pulled herself forward so she was sitting up as much as she could, (Y/n) didn't want to slouch back any longer. She tucked her face into the headrest like she was trying to smother herself and with her free hand, (Y/n) reached down and pulled Evan's hand tight until she could hold it up against her chest.
Something close to a smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when she felt him move and kiss her thigh.
"Y-your arm," (Y/n)'s voice was barely more than a whisper but when she cracked an eye open to look at her husband, he was shaking his head with pursed lips.
"It'll wait," Evan couldn't even feel his arm anymore. The skin was still loose and scraped back but it didn't matter, the adrenaline was so fast and consistent in his body that it numbed everything. His arm would be fine until they got to the hospital, he just wanted his baby in his arms and his wife to be alright.
"God, Evan please… fuck, can I push again?"
When (Y/n) tugged on his arm again, Evan got the hint and bypassed Eddie, climbing into the footwell that didn't fit his large frame very well. He leaned his weight onto his knees that pushed into the chair and curved his frame around (Y/n) so his chest was against her shoulder and he could kiss her temple. She kept tight hold of his hand that was still smothered against her chest so his arm was wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.
"You keep pushing you're doing great, I can see the head already."
(Y/n) let her head fall back onto Evan's shoulder and she moved to kiss his neck and she had to hold back the urge to bite down and give him a dark bruise when the pain made her jaw clench. But Evan didn't even shiver or jolt against her when she screamed into his neck, he soaked up the sound and instead started to hum against her hair, letting her deadlock her fingers around his wrist that had gone numb a while back.
"…And the head's here," The smile that lit up Eddie's face made a knot in (Y/n)'s stomach slowly untangle. He didn't look panicked or overly concerned or like he was trying to take control of a bad situation, he was relaxing and it made (Y/n) feel more at ease.
She could feel Evan laughing into her hair, the feeling rumbled through his bare chest and vibrated through (Y/n)'s skin and he just had to lean forward to get a look.
"Another c…contraction,"
"Keep pushing baby, you're doing so great, I can't wait to have them in my arms."
Evan leaned forward when (Y/n) did the same and he kept his chest smothered against her back but he just couldn't resist from getting closer. He kept his left arm secured around (Y/n)'s lower waist but he reached his right hand down to see and touch the baby.
"Alright (Y/n) you're so close now, push again for me… Buck get ready." Eddie grabbed Buck's shirt that was laid in the footwell and nodded up at his friend to signal it was almost time.
(Y/n) tightened her left arm around the headrest to keep her weight up and moved her right hand to hold onto Evan's bicep, allowing him to lean around her because she knew what he was desperate for. He wanted to hold their baby the moment they were born and Eddie could see it too.
With a final scream and a blinding pain that sent spots dancing across her vision, (Y/n) slumped against the seat as Evan doubled over and stretched his arms out like he was reaching for the sun.
"Here he is! Buck Jr," Eddie laughed triumphantly, swaddling the baby boy in his dad's shirt before he slowly handed the bundle up to Evan who had tears trecking down his face.
Evan stayed doubled over with his abdomen resting on his knees and his arms outstretched towards Eddie. He didn't dare move an inch until Eddie had clamped and cut the cord, he couldn't pull back without it being cut unless he wanted to risk pulling on the placenta and harm (Y/n) in the process. But once the cord was safety cut off, Evan stretched back up and shakily tilted his boy around so he was laid on his bare chest.
He was a mix of soft blushing pink and the lightest shade of orange, covered in a protective layer of white fluid and droplets of blood, but he was perfect. It was mesmerising how Evan's large hand covered almost the whole spa of his boy's back when he patted to make sure he was crying properly and his airways were clear.
"God, he's beautiful." Turning to the side, Evan leaned over so (Y/n) could see their boy before he smothered her temple with his lips and felt her trembling hands rub over his jaw and neck.
"Cap, we have Buck Jr safely delivered, do you have an ambulance available?" Eddie spoke into his radio before he wrapped up the placenta and stood to his feet. They needed to get (Y/n) to the hospital to be checked over just to be safe and Buck needed patching up too.
"Well done guys! The second ambulance is all yours, Hen grab the stretcher."
"He's okay, isn't he?" (Y/n) dared to brush a trembling finger across the newborn's cheek but she couldn't help but worry. He had been bashed about a lot and forced into the world a bit earlier than planned. It was a miracle he didn't have the cord wrapped round his neck or some sort of trauma or shock from the abrupt crash.
"They'll check him over at the hospital but he seems just fine, he's a tough cookie. Come on Buck," Eddie flagged him out when he heard Hen approaching fast with a stretcher.
Evan slowly climbed out onto unsteady legs and he could feel his knees wobbling from the adrenaline high that was going to wear off soon. But when he looked between his baby boy and his wife, he slowly turned towards Eddie and carefully slipped the newborn back into his arms.
"I got you babe," He curved his arms beneath (Y/n)'s and shuffled her as carefully as he could to the edge of the seat before he looped his arm beneath her knees. He could feel Eddie hovering beside him and Hen close behind, just in case he wobbled or fell but he didn't need help. He'd picked (Y/n) up a thousand times and despite how many times she told him she was too heavy now she was pregnant, he could carry her like she weighed nothing more than a feather. Even in his rattled state, he could do this blindfolded.
Her arms curved around his neck and she kissed his neck when he carried her out of the car and over to the stretcher Hen had gotten ready for them.
When she was safely on the stretcher, Evan didn't need to say anything for Eddie to pass him back his son. Just the feel of his boy in his arms had Evan grinning like a fool and puffing his chest out like the proud dad he now was.
"Do we have a name for the little guy?"
"Didn't you hear Eddie? Buck Jr."
"Evan no!"
1K notes · View notes
krakensdottir · 1 year ago
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Something else I've noticed about Crowley's compassion is that it also extends to his enemies.
To a point, mind. What he did to Ligur makes clear that he has limits. And those two pushed them like no one else. If it's compassion or survival, he will pick survival every time, even if it means melting your ass.
But outside of that? Look at him with Shax. He knows she's a threat, he keeps her at arm's length. When she asks about the boiler, though, he's instantly helpful. He could have grinned at her and said 'figure it out' and shut the door. But he didn't. He answered her question, because hey, this Earth shit is hard and she needs all the help she can get. And that's remarkable. Because I doubt most demons would do that - even though helping your replacement settle in could be seen as practical, they generally don't seem to go out of the way for each other at all, certainly aren't obligated to. This was Crowley's decision.
Then there's Gabriel. Crowley doesn't trust him, he initially argues that they shouldn't help him because it's dangerous for them both to be anywhere near him. But once he has agreed to help... he is remarkably gentle with Jim. Answers questions about gravity even when he doesn't have to - when he could easily just not talk to him at all. Even when he tests him, almost gets him to jump out a window, he ends up calling him back (once he's satisfied Jim isn't faking, I have no doubt). He ends up offering him hot chocolate. Even when Crowley wants to be mean, even when he tries, his nature ends up winning.
And finally, Beelzebub. I've seen a lot of talk about how jealous Crowley must be, how bitter... but he doesn't seem like it, does he? He's very soft in that scene. He's the one who recommends them a nice date spot to retreat to - one that he himself was considering at one point. He sounds a little wistful to me, like yeah, he wishes he and Aziraphale could have that happiness too. But he doesn't show any sign of begrudging it, either. It seems like he is, in his Crowley way, happy for them. (Of course I'm sure it doesn't hurt that this means they won't be his or Aziraphale's problem anymore. If it were just that, though, I don't think his voice would've sounded like that.)
So all of this is remarkable, but of course, with a little consideration, it's not surprising coming from Crowley. This is who he is underneath. This is who he wants to be. (Even if he hates that he wants it, lol.)
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ineffably-human · 1 year ago
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The day Guillermo slaughtered a theatre of vampires, Nandor looked up and actually saw him. 'My name is Guillermo de la Cruz' burned like a silver knife in his brain. And that's the day Nandor started rooting for him.
Making him a bodyguard, insistent that's what he was. Watching him so carefully. 'Push back. Break the rules. Talk about yourself. I can't do it for you. If I do it for you then you've already lost.' Guillermo slapped him and his eyes lit up. Guillermo fought him, and he only wanted more. Guillermo said 'I can kill you whenever I want, I choose not to,' and it's what he was waiting for.
Nandor stands at the train station, feeling awake for the first time in months as he considers all the variables. The normal bite won't be enough, not for a Van Helsing. He'll have to drink someone right away, just to be sure. Will it feel the same for him, to hunt a human the way Nandor's watched him hunt a vampire? Maybe if they do it together. Maybe there's a lot that Guillermo can do very easily, if they do it together. Maybe there's a lot Nandor can do, very easily, if-
(...he's not coming. Well, familiars have balked at less.)
--
It's such a genuine surprise when he reappears. Why everything happened doesn't matter, exactly; Guillermo doesn't fight to get any of it back. He's so angry, so ready to leave, and by all rights Nandor should let him. But all he can feel is the instinct to stop him. Perhaps if he has actual love in this house, something to fill the void... Maybe there's one more thing Guillermo can do for him before his exit.
It's a strange year. Guillermo is not in his service, so much as he's a friend charged with service. His mind is so pulled in different directions - raising the Colin-creature, helping at the club, buying his gaudy new clothes that aren't vampire-like at all. Talking on the phone, sometimes in the other language he speaks, sometimes in secret whispers Nandor doesn't try to figure out.
If Guillermo doesn't want him to know, then he doesn't. He can't begrudge him a life outside this house anymore. It's like Guillermo has remembered how to be human.
Maybe he has. Nandor takes him to fight, wants to see that fire in his eyes again, but Guillermo only wants peace. They never talk about him becoming a vampire. Guillermo doesn't ask once. At the wedding, Guillermo promises to always be there when Nandor is afraid. Nandor wonders what 'always' means to him.
When he meets Freddie, things click into place a bit. Nandor is happy for him, truly. Suspicious, of course - this is a stranger in their home, one who clearly doesn't know their secrets. But such a kind and engaging stranger. And intriguing, like a little secret corner of Guillermo Nandor has never been able to reach. Nandor has been so lonely lately, he keeps getting everything he wants and yet he's lonelier than ever -
Nandor fucks up. Nandor fixes. Or does his best, anyway.
Guillermo goes to London one day, comes home with a look in his eyes like something broken. They don't talk about it.
Guillermo is back to dusting. He sits beside Nandor and smiles, placid and friendly. 'So, what's next?' But he doesn't ask. And Nandor can't ask it for him. That's not how this works.
--
And suddenly, Guillermo is a million miles away. Suddenly, Guillermo would rather be anywhere than with Nandor.
He talks about being a vampire for the first time in a year, but there's a strangeness to it. A wariness. When they laugh at the idea, he doesn't push back. There's no fire.
Something is wrong, honestly wrong, but Nandor can't bring himself to think about it seriously. Guillermo still runs from even the thought of their orgies. (So it can't be what he's thinking of, can it?) Their first big crisis as a household in a while, their bodyguard is nowhere to be found. (Is he a bodyguard anymore? A familiar? A lot more like Laszlo's familiar, these days...)
'I'm not going to be around forever.' Well, fine. He can survive that. He's survived far worse, and so has Guillermo.
And Guillermo is not just here right now, but is alive right now - wonderfully, blessedly alive - and Nandor won't be forced to think about his death for a while yet.
The one thing he knows for sure is that Guillermo would never do anything to hurt him, to hurt any of them. And maybe that's why it never worked out. You have to do so much more than survive, to be a vampire.
-- When everything that happened becomes clear, when his rage fades to anger fades to acceptance, there's still responsibility. Responsibility to his familiar, responsibility to his friend.
And when Guillermo's heart is too full, and spills over whatever bloodlust he had, Nandor wishes he were surprised. Guillermo has iron in him but it's been forged into a shield, after all this time. There are no little leftover bits Nandor might have helped him shape into a pair of fangs.
Guillermo can feed a family, or defend one, or defend himself. But he won't kill unless he has to, and his own survival - or his own happiness - is not a 'has to'. Fine. Guillermo has fought for him. Nandor can fight, too.
His own anger still needs a more constructive place to go. So he looks at Guillermo's wretched sire - who never even wanted to be a vampire, and then made a vampire so thoughtlessly. Who hasn't come to see Guillermo, who couldn't figure out how to help him, who doesn't even know that he's in pain.
Nandor drives a stake into the heart of a vampire. And it feels good.
Maybe now, he can also be angry at himself a little less.
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wannaeatramyeon · 8 months ago
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Gun and Goo with Reader: Manga Raws
G/N. Silly.
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Gun has a headache. The type of throbbing that starts at the temples before spreading across his entire skull, his ears and jaw and neck, that would leave a weaker person debilitated.
Fortunately he is not weak. Unfortunately, he still needs to put up with you and Goo.
"Please?"
Goo takes one look at you, and mimics your expression, "Yeah, please?"
Gun peers, features not indicating any discomfort, impassively into yours and Goo's face. Both batting your eyelashes at him, mouth pulled down, bottom lip jutting out in a way some would describe as cute and pitiful.
He takes one drag of his cigarette then blows the smoke in your direction.
It has the desired effect.
Goo reels back, spluttering and waving the fumes away and pulling you back with him.
"Say something!" He stage-whispers into your ear.
"Like what?"
"Anything! I don't care. Do whatever. Get on your knees and beg or blow-"
"Stop if you don't want me to pluck out your tongue," You shove the blonde roughly, eyes narrowing at his words.
There's a huff of amusement behind you and you seize your opportunity.
"Gun," you coo, whirling round, "The manga raws are out, the translations are always shit and delayed. You're fluent in Japanese. Of course we were gonna ask you. It's gonna take five minutes, tops."  Your reasoning falls on deaf ears, charming smile ignored, and Gun raises an eyebrow in your direction.
It's time for your trump card.
"I know you have a headache. You know that we won't stop being annoying until you help us. And we all know that that headache can get much much worse."
Goo nods enthusiastically in your peripheral vision.
Letting out a sigh of defeat, Gun begrudging caves, "Fine-"
"Oh!" You weren't sure it was going to work, "Thanks-"
"Except," Gun throws Goo a smirk, "You can't tell Goo what happens."
You give Goo a thumbs up behind your back at the same time as you grin and say, "Deal!" 
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mysterycitrus · 5 months ago
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This is so stupid but I was wondering if you might have any Dick and Roy meta? I've always loved your meta posts about the relationships between the Fab Five and different characters and lately, I've been seeing a lot of those posts where people splice certain comic pannels with poems/sayings/inspirational quotes and things that match and I've been wanting to have more in-depth ideas of the relationship between Dick and Roy because they're just so interesting but I don't have the brains to come up with anything myself
when i think about dick grayson and roy harper i think about the trope king + lionheart — a burdened hero, and their loyal protector — and how they switch roles with each other. like two standout dickroy books are probably old friends, new enemies and outsiders (2003), and while they’re both initiated with roy reaching out to dick for help, his motivations are very different. i think that dynamic, and how they don’t fit solely into one role, is part of why i enjoy reading about them so much.
in old friends, roy is the king — he’s trying to track down chesire and find lian, and isn’t initially honest about his intentions. he’s struggling with his decisions, and his faith in himself. dick acts as the moral support, his backup, and also calls him out on his actions.
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but their relationship is still loving. there’s a solid foundation of trust that makes dick want to support roy and protect his daughter, to the point that he and jade nguyen show a (very) begrudging respect to each other.
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in outsiders, dick is the king — donna has just died, bludhaven is going to shit, and roy knows that he’s spiralling. roy is the solid support who convinces dick to lead a new team because he knows dick hurts himself through isolation. they’re both grieving donna and the loss of their team, but roy forces dick to reconnect again. he forces dick to care.
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despite being the leader of the outsiders, dick is uncompromising in his loyalty in roy. he tells people to leave if they don’t accept roy’s authority in the team. after roy is shot, dick takes the same action as roy in the first issue — he brute forces his way into getting roy out of the spiral. he holds a gun to roy’s head and tells him to take it.
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im a huge sucker for friends to lovers, but what i really love is two competent people with absolute faith in each other. i dislike the idea that bat-characters are like….. absurdly op and everyone is just in awe of them all the time, but dick’s reputation means that trusting someone the way he trusts roy is important. he watched his teammates die, he watched his sister die to save his life, and he still trusts roy to be there. roy historically has a bit of an inferiority complex about working with dick, but dick does not reciprocate. dick knows roy will be there when it counts.
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there’s a particular kind of love that comes from mourning the same person during one of the worst times of your life.
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the fact that the early tragedies in their lives are so similar, that they lost family and an idea of place at similar ages, were mentored by mortal men who wanted to do good, but still ended up so close but so different is really really interesting to me. u get to outsiders, and they really know each other in a really intense way.
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truly like…. i would fall on ur sword because i trust u not to land the killing blow. to finish — something something gay people
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silentgravesdontexist · 2 months ago
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PART II: Dates & Kisses! w/ Sanji, Nami, & Robin
If you haven't read the first part containing Ace, Luffy and Zoro— here's my masterlist as a guide. Reader will be gender neutral. The third part with Yamato, Usopp, and Jimbei will coming up soon! (Quick disclaimer: its my first time writing Nami and Robin. So, if there are any OOC moments, feel free to comment abt it. Constructive criticism—not destructive.)
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CW: None. Pining, dates, kisses, and fluff.
Word Count: 2.6k
Sanji
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Dinner at His Place
You didn't like him. The constant smoking, flirting with every woman he sees, and him acting like a pervert at times. However, it wasn't like you hated him. You had a begrudging respect for the way he stuck to his beliefs no matter what.
Would it be cliche to say he loved that? Maybe, but it's what happened. There was something about the way you rolled your eyes at his attempts. How you scrunch up your nose when the smell of smoke on him becomes too much.
Your confidence. The way you presented to yourself. How you truly saw him as a person beyond those flirtations of his. You sat beside him in silence when he found out that the woman he'd been seeing was just using him for money.
You didn't say anything. And that was more than what he thought he needed. Your soothing presence beside him as tears cascaded down his cheeks.
Since then, he couldn't get his eyes off you. Oh, he was flirting with another girl again when you passed by? His eyes are following you without even realizing it. The conversation with the girl before him forgotten.
All he wanted after that was to be close to you. He'd follow you around with flowers in tow. Buying you gifts you knew you liked. Barely ever paying attention to anyone else. Even smoking a bit less for you. Focusing all his time and effort in pining over you.
Sometimes, he'd write you letters. Leave you notes where he knows you'll find them. Ofc, he'll make your favorite snack/drinks whenever he can to surprise you.
He had a shit-eating grin on his face when you agreed to come over to his place to let him cook you dinner. Let out a loud whoop over it.
It was late into the night. Candle-lit dinner left by the table— it was delicious. What else could be expected from Sanji? All of it was your favorite meals cooked just the way you loved them. His preparations could beat any 3-star Michelin restaurant. The conversation. Oh, how he loved talking to you. Your genuine interest in him. The way you talked about your passions and hobbies. He could feel his heart race whenever you smiled at him. His eyes were practically shapped like hearts as he listened to you intently. After a lull in the conversation, he gets a small idea. Sanji gets up from his seat and walks over to a record player. Setting up a vinyl and letting it play, soft tunes echo in the area. A romantic and languid pace and tone. He walks back to you with an affectionate smile, his hand reached out for you to accept. "May I have this dance, amour?" He asks with a soft smile tugging his lips. You place your hand in his and he places a soft kiss on it before helping you up. Oh, he could listen to that giggle of yours on hours on end when he twirled you before holding you close. Both of you sway to the tune of the music. One hand holds yours while the other is on the small of your back. He leans in to whisper sweet nothings against your ear. Lips press a kiss against your temple while his thumb brushes over the small of your back gently. You lean into his touch. Savoring the feel of his warmth against your skin. Giggling at his sweet words before he presses kisses against your skin and hair. He buries his face into your hair, breathing in your scent. "I'm falling for you, mon amour." He whispers into your hair. His hold tightening for a moment as if he's afraid those words would shatter the moment away. "You don't have to say it back. Just let me love you. Holding you like this." He pulls back to meet your gaze. His hand cupping your cheek as he brushes a thumb over it. You wrap your arms around his neck before leaning in for a kiss. His eyes widen for a moment before immediately melts into the kiss. Oh, did he love the way your fingers run through his hair. He chases after your lips even as you pull away. Sanji holds you close. Savoring the moment best he can. "I love you," He whispers against your hair. His voice trembles slightly, and he squeezes you just a bit tighter. You had the power to put him back together and make him fall apart at the seems. And he'd gladly let you have that power.
Nami
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Fancy Restaurant
• You and Nami flirted like there was no tomorrow. Tension thick in the air that it made a few others groan in annoyance. There were no labels or commitments. Just two gorgeous beings flirting without biting.
What did Nami like most about you? (Your credit card.) I mean, you personality and capabilities to keep on par with her. Matching her attitude and fire with your own.
Both of you met at a bar. Some random guy was bothering her, and you tried to intervene to help her out. Oh, you thought you were the knight and shining armor? Nah, not with Nami.
She stood her ground and even scoffed at you. The way she handled the situation made you so drawn to her. You apologized for assuming she needed help and offered her a drink.
That's how the two of you got along. It wasn't just the flirtations but the way you could stay with each other's presence and act as though you understood what the other needed. May it be comforting words or just a shoulder to lean on.
You and Nami went shopping at a mall one day. She tried on a gorgeous dress that made you shift in your seat with how mesmerizing she looked when she left that dressing room.
Unable to help yourself, you said that it looked great on her. That all was left was a date and a fancy restaurant to dine in.
She smirked at you. Teasing you that you should be the said date. Though she'd only agree if you bought the said expensive dress and pay for dinner.
You said yes. Obviously.
You knew damn well that you were punching a hole right through your wallet when you said yes to Nami. But a dinner date with her in that dress? Worth every beri. Reserved seats in the finest restaurant in town with a breathtaking view of the city. Despite the relaxed and confident expression she wore, you knew she was impressed by it. Even more so by your casual response to her ordering some of the more expensive items on the list. Her gaze meeting yours as she tells the order to the waiter while you casually wave a dismissive hand. "Someone's in the mood to induldge." She says, leaning against the table with the palm of her hand resting against her cheek. "Can't resist showing off to lovely company after all." You chime, winking at her with a smirk. Oh, how your heart skipped a beat when she bit her lower lip at that response. A shiver runs down your spine as you lean back against your chair. Food, drinks, and conversation flowed between you two. By the end of it, both of you were fairly tipsy from the wine you drank. It was time to leave, and you thought it would be a nice to go for a walk— if not to just savor her presence beside you for a while longer. While walking, rain pours from the clouds unexpectedly. Soaking you two as you dashed through the streets for shelter. Amd the closest was a cramped telephone booth. Your bodies pressed together intimately while both of you tried to catch your breaths. You couldn't take your eyes off her— and neither could she to you. Feeling a little bold from the wine, you raise a hand to brush damp strands of her hair behind her ear. Thumb brushing along her cheek as you gaze into her eyes. Not shying away herself, she wraps her arms around your neck. A small smile now tugs both of your lips upward. Your hand placed on the small of her back. The warmth of it sends a shiver running down her spine. With a tug, you pull her closer, and your lips inches away from hers. "Gonna let me kiss you? Or should I pay for that as well?" You couldn't help but tease. Nami chuckles as her fingers twirl over the ends of your hair as she leans in. Her lips brushing against yours as she speaks. "Consider it as a tip for all the service you've done." Nami mumbles before leaning in to close the distance between the both of you. The kiss is heated and passionate as you melt into it. Wild patters of the rain and wind against the glass panes of the booth become a soft hum as you lose yourself in the softness and taste of her lips. You chase after her lips when she pulls away. She chuckles at the dazed look on your face. You simply hold her close and press another chaste kiss on her lips before meeting her gaze with a sincere and warm look in them. "Maybe we could go on a less expensive date next time?" You ask, a slightly hopeful look on your face. Nami presses a kiss on the tip of your nose, craddling your face in her hands. "Just don't be cheap on me, alright?" She muses. A mischievious glint in her eyes. "Never." You say confidently before leaning in for another kiss that she gladly reciprocates.
Nico Robin
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Impromptu Indoor Date
There was a certain library that Robin liked to frequent at, and you were the librarian of that said library. You'd always spot her by her usual spot near the windows with a book in hand. It was close to where you were stationed.
At first, you found yourself captivated by her beauty and how she carried herself. Your gaze following her and occoasionally sneaking glances at her while she read. Oftenly making her card a bit more prioritized than the others.
The two of you barely ever interacted. A warm smile, casual waves, conversations of the books you've both read, and a few laughs shared.
One time, you were so distracted staring at her with obvious longing in your eyes that you got scolded by another person in the library trying to inquire about a certain book. You hurriedly apologized and attended to the said person.
When you finished, you risked a sheepish look at Robin. Only to find her chuckling at you and waving a hand. A warm smile on her lips and that playful glint in her eyes that made your insides melt a bit.
Slowly gathering up the courage, you'd slip in notes between the pages of the books she borrows. It starts from small greetings, compliments, and even flirtatious comments. If you've already read the book, you'd underline (puting a transparent sticky note first to preserve the book) certain dialogue and comments on the pages.
Sometimes, she indirectly brings it up and teases you a bit. Other times, she'd return the book with a reply of her own on a sticky note.
Finally, you decided to recommend Robin your own favorite book. It was tabbed and annotated by you personally. Although you did slip in a small note asking, 'Would you like to go on a date with me?'
And much to your delight, she reads through the book the handing it back to you with a note of her reply: 'Yes'
Truthfully, you had the date all planned out. You were meant to take her to a nearby open-field garden. Go around the garden while talking. Taking the chance to get to know her better apart from all the lingering gazes and casual smiles. And for a while, you did. Getting to know more about her likes and dislikes, finding her a lot more playful than expected from her easy-confidence, and adoring her intellectual sides. Robin found herself enjoying your presence as well. She found your viewpoints on various subjects interesting and there was something about you just made her feel at ease. Finding it easier to smile and even laugh with you. Though it was cut quite short. A heavy downpour fell on the both of you. Ushering to the nearest shelter, it didn't seem like it would let up any time soon by the looks of it. Plus, you and Robin were soaked to the bone by the sudden rain. "Listen, I...uh..." You start of sheepishly. Sheeks flushing at the thought of your own offer. "My place is nearby. If you'd like, I can take you there so you can warm up." Unable to meet her gaze, you look away for a moment and clear your throat. "I'd rather you not catch a cold from this." It suddenly dawns on you how that must've sounded. Which in the end made you even more flustered, you're stumbling over your words that you didn't have indecent intentions. That she could take a bath, borrow your clothes, and leave right after if that's what she wanted. Although you couldn't really help but offer her to stay a while. Even if to talk a bit more, watch a movie, or even read a book. Robin chuckles at your flustered state but eventually reassureed you that she appreciated the offer and even accepted it. And there the two of you went to your place. When all was said and done, both of you settled in the living room couch. She spotted the books on your shelves and helped herself with one before settling back down on the couch beside you (and you were slightly panicking happily on the inside bc of how she looked good in your clothes). At first, there's this space between you. But as the minutes and hours went by, the two of you drew closer to each other. Sometimes, you'd get up to grab some snacks or drinks and sit down an inch closer to her. All up until Robin sat beside you, your shoulders brushing a bit. Taking a bit of a leap of faith, you wrap and arm over the back of the couch behind her. She leans against you with her head resting against your shoulder. Casual touches of skin and the comfort of each other's presence. Every now and then, you'd find yourself glancing her way. Indulging how peaceful she looked beside you. Her gaze glued to the page of the book she was reading. You fingers reached out to play with the ends of her hair absent-mindedly. Robin lets out a soft chuckle and turns her head to face you. A playful smile on her lips as she meets your gaze. The sight makes your heart skip a bit. Your faces inches away from each other. "You've been staring for a while now. Is there something on my face?" She asks and it sends your heart racing in your chest. You sheepishly shake your head before responding. "You just looked...pretty." You compliment with a nervous chuckle on your lips. Robin leans in just a fraction closer to you, her breath fanning against yours. Unable to resist, you lean in close enough that your noses are now brushing. Your thumb now tyracing along her cheek, gaze flickering down to her lips. A playful smile tugs Robins lips as she leans closer to you. Her fingers brushing against your cheek. The shiver that runs down your spine at her touch makes her chuckle. You lean closer, eyes searching for any hint of hesitation in her eyes. When you find none, you press your lips against her lips. It was a tender and languid kiss. A warm smile on your lips as you look at her affectionately. She leans in for a chaste kiss that has you chasing after her lips. Both of you exchange quick pecks while chucklinh and giggling to yourselves.
~~~~
Let us all hope that I can post Part III within this week. The extras will be next week! (i think)
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aphrogeneias · 2 months ago
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being so disgustingly in love that you can’t keep your hands off each other and it’s nothing more explicit than regular PDA but even your friends can’t deny how cute you guys are. like yes they’re disgusted that their friends are so affectionate regardless of who’s watching but they can’t begrudge you cause shit aren’t you both perfect together?
"Don't roll your eyes."
There's no way he can tell, because Steve is not looking at Dustin. He's looking at you instead, eyes following the frame of your face as he presses a small kiss to your jawline.
"I wasn't rolling my eyes." The boy retorts. To anyone who doesn't know him, it might sound like animosity, but you know there's a playfulness to it.
"Yes, you were." You decide to chime in, but you're not really looking at him either. Looking down at Steve from where you're perched on his lap, sitting straight, but still comfortable. There's plenty of space on the couch, but neither of you want to be away from each other.
Why would you?
From where Dustin sits, opposite to you, he sighs. "It's just... It's nice. This is nice..." He points at the two of you.
"Why do I sense there's a but coming in that sentence?" Steve teases, squeezing you tighter, and kissing your shoulder. You stifle a laugh, knowing he's doing it on purpose.
It's not any different than what you normally do — the kid isn't wrong. You often don't take your seat, your boyfriend serving as yours instead. You're never too far from each other, hands and lips gravitating towards each other's like satellites. Like gravity, you don't question it.
Why would you?
"But you don't have to kiss all the time." Dustin winces, furrowing his brows. You're still not looking at him, but it's endearing. "Do you, now?"
"When you have a girlfriend as hot as mine, you'll understand."
His protests — "I do have a hot girlfriend!" — fall deaf to your ears when Steve leans closer again, stealing a kiss from your grinning lips.
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superhoeva · 2 months ago
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Hi hi 👋 hopping the older bf! Logan wave to talk about him cause I’m obsessed with him. Idk what version of older Logan we are necessarily talking about, but I just imagine him being the type of bf that always needs to have his hands on you. He’s already a naturally dominant man, his demeanor speaks for himself, he doesn’t have to prove shit to nobody and he isn’t one to do so much PDA in public.
But when it comes to being with you, he likes to show others you that at the end of the day, you chose him in comparison to the other young fuckers nearby. A hand on your waist, another on your thigh when you’re sitting together. Sometimes if he’s really feeling it, he’ll place a kiss on your neck right on your pulse, smiling when it feels it thrum his touch. Older bf! Logan and casual dominance/manhandling >> love that.
an arm's around your waist. his hand fiddling with the hem of your shirt, exposing just a sliver of the skin of your stomach to the guy trying not to drool over you.
you're obvious to the desires, struggling to stay interested in the conversation with the intense gazes logan is sending you. he'd checked out as early the schmuck rattling off his name to the two of you, much more interested in how that one spot on your neck taste tonight.
the man is stuttering his way through the sentences now, nerves getting the better of him. eventually, he just decides to stop, wondering what's the use when logan drags you back against him by the belt loop of your jeans.
"nice chattin', bub. see you around, yeah?"
logan's words come with a sharp pat the the arm of the guy, who jolts at the force before slinking off to somewhere you don't care about. you don't even have a chance to blink before logan's yanking you toward the exit of the bar, rolling his eyes at the dopey smile on your face.
"you're cute when you're jealous."
"shut up and get in."
your grin stays, as a begrudging humor lilts a little of logan's tone. you can hear the tiny smirk on his face while he drags you to the passenger side of his truck. popping open the door, logan offers you his hand, helping you into the vehicle.
you press a peck into his cheek after he straps your seatbelt for you before heading to the drivers seat. he shuts the door with a sigh, not bothering the ignite the engine before slumping and turning your way with a knowing look on his face.
a short giggle leaves you at the slightly annoyed look in his eye.
"you didn't wanna stay and talk to our new friend?"
"my boot would'a had to have been surgically removed out of his ass if i'd stayed in there any longer."
with that, logan turns the key and revs the pickup to life. a hand plants itself onto your thigh, squeezing in anticipation of all the kneading they'll be doing as soon as the two of you make it back to his place.
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