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jimblejamblewritings · 6 months ago

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love letters and second sons | part 3.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry this part is so short

You stood in the drawing room of Kew, waiting for your mother and father to arrive in just a few minutes. Instead of a huge breakfast in the dining room, you opted for a light tea in a more casual setting. Honestly, you were mildly annoyed. The only thing you wanted to do after people returned from their church services, that they never attended weekly because no one cared about the priest admonishing them, was go to the Featherington house. You were shocked that Colin was calling Marina. But friends didn’t always fall in love.

It wasn’t like Penelope was upset about it. She didn’t even like Colin. But like your mother you wanted to matchmake someone and figured they would have been the easiest couple to form. But you wanted to spy on Colin and Marina under the guise of aiding in chaperoning with Penelope since Lady Featherington was running around between girls and their callers.

Your thoughts about who to matchmake were interrupted by your parents arriving. You poured tea for them. Breakfast was a bit awkward in a way it had never been before. George and Charlotte were assessing you intently. You got in two bites of bread when the physician entered. Your parents continued their conversation while you were being checked over. The physician made little comments for the nurse to jot down. Overall, you were fine. That seemed to satisfy your mother and father. There was a glint in Charlotte’s eye.

“The King an— Everyone, out.”

The room, aside from Brimsley and Reynolds, cleared out.

“George and I have decided that we’d like to give you an opportunity. There is an opera coming up. Agatha and her friend Violet will be attending. You may come with. You will meet them before the show starts and then we will stay to watch the entire performance. Afterwards, you must go home. No exceptions.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I wo—”

“Calm yourself. You know getting excited makes your condition worse.”

You sat back down, trying not to bounce up and down. She was right after all. Being overly excited made you sweaty or a little hot for some reason and being too warm made you start to see things or think strange things. When your parents left, you ran to your wardrobe.

The dresses needed to be fancy but not too fancy since it was a sit-down event. You picked a yellow dress with short puff sleeves. It ended just above the bottom of your ankle — very stylish for the times. Pairing it with light blue gloves that went past your elbows, you added a light blue skirt piece that made a small train.

“You look beautiful, Your Highness,” Brimsley said.

“I have to agree.” Both Pandora and Reynolds looked at each other, shocked they said the same thing at the same time.

“Thank you. Shall we go? Reynolds, would you like to be dropped at home to see Father?”

“That would be nice, Your Highness, thank you.”

“Then let us leave now.”

You rolled your eyes in the carriage, setting down your copy of Lady Whistledown’s society papers.

“It is utterly ridiculous. She is a disgraceful woman. I tolerated the gossip but speculating death, wishing death on my father is something I cannot accept nor tolerate. How dare she?”

Your confidantes agreed with you and shared their own opinions on society and gossip.

Whispers started to spread throughout the opera house while people still rolled in and music still played. How could it not? The youngest royal child was actually outside. There was no opening for the mouth on this particular mask which meant this was not your introduction. You might speak to a lucky few but there would be no speeches or announcements tonight. People couldn’t hear you from far away with ceramic blocking your mouth. You stuck close to your mother while everyone tried to look at you or talk to you.

“Lady Bridgerton!” Lady Danbury yelled from across the room. “Do join us.”

Violet tried to conceal her wide eyes and smile as she grabbed Daphne’s arm before her daughter could walk away from whoever she was trying to avoid. She made eye contact with you. You watched as she rather frantically waved over someone else.

Anthony — or should you call him the viscount for the evening — began walking towards you, bowing to the Queen before turning his full attention to you. You let him take your hand and give it a kiss. A kiss that you noted was considerably longer by a minimum of five seconds than when he kissed you as Miss Beckett. So it was definitely Violet trying to set up the princess with her son and not the valet with Colin.

You let Anthony talk your ear off about his responsibilities as the eldest and his horseback riding hobby, notably leaving out the details of riding through the mud and staying out there for hours. He was considerably more boring when trying to impress a woman. Ignoring the whispers that permeated through the room, you tried to focus on your friend.

You motioned for him to lean in so you could speak into his ear and actually let him hear you rather than sounding muffled, practically silencing the hall. Anthony laughed at the joke you told which caused both of your mothers to turn around. This was the Anthony you liked better. Violet gasped when you placed a hand on her son’s arm — your mother raised her eyebrows as she and Lady Danbury gave you a slight nod of approval.

“Will you escort me to our box, Viscount Bridgerton?”

“Please, call me Anthony.”

“Lord Bridgerton, that is most forward when we don’t know each other.”

“I was told royals didn’t obey our rules of upper society.”

The two of you started up the stairs, away from prying eyes, that led up to the Queen’s box.

“Anthony?”

“Now we speak of first names.”

You rolled your eyes. “I will allow you to call me by mine, just this single occasion. Anthony, where are the other Bridgerton siblings? If I remember correctly, you have seven of them? Miss Bridgerton is here but I do not see the others.”

“Truthfully, they were very bored by the show being put on tonight. We’ve seen it before. I’m merely here to aid my mother and chaperone my sister. Have you seen this show before?”

“If I have then it was when I was very little.”

“Well, then please do not let my words discourage your enjoyment of the performance. Here is your stop.” He extended a hand to help you up the short steps into the box. “Y/N, thank you for the flowers from the other day. Truly, they are appreciated.”

You studied his face for a moment. He really was handsome. His hair didn’t cover as much of his face this evening as it usually did whenever you visited. The stark colors of his black and white attire made his features stand out.

“I am glad you liked them. Now is where I leave you for the evening, Lord Bridgerton. I shall hope to see you some more once I formally introduce myself to society.”

“I will look forward to that day. Goodbye… Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Anthony.”

Taking your seat, you waited for your mother and her friends to come to the box. The smile on Charlotte’s face grew wider the closer she got to the box. She was going on about Anthony. Obviously, you were going to have many suitors to entertain but a viscount was certainly a very important suitor and only made your prospects have to be better in their courting.

“Excuse me, I’m going to the privy,” you told your mother when you felt your throat start to tighten up.

She just gave you a nod. The shadows of the opera house were closing in on you and you couldn’t calm your mind down. You needed to be in a place with more candlelight. You jumped at the sound of several dogs barking from the shadows. They were big creatures. You had never seen them but you could tell from their bark and — when you got too close — how their breath fanned across the top of your head. Hastening your steps to get away, you ran straight into Violet.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I decided to take a walk after going to the privy and wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The woman in front of you smiled. “Your Highness, if I may be so bold to ask? Would you like to attend a dinner we are hosting? The Duke of Hastings will be there. I understand that you aren’t yet introduced but it woul—”

“I shall love to come. Just tell me when.”

“Saturday evening.”

“Perfect.”

Saturday evening couldn’t have come any sooner. You were tired of counting the floor titles in the bathroom and needed to leave. For the sake of your valets, you hadn’t snuck out at all that week.

You turned to your valets. “I will be back in a few hours.”

“Please be careful,” Pandora said.

“I always am.”

“Not really.” You heard someone mutter inside the carriage.

Marshall escorted you in. You had to stop yourself from smiling, remembering that he had no clue who you were. It was almost alarming when everyone — including the Duke of Hastings — stood when you entered the dining room. You weren’t sure why you didn't expect it. Perhaps you were already too used to your disguise as Miss Beckett. You gave a slight curtsey.

“I apologize for being late.”

“No. You aren’t late at all,” Anthony said as he started to gather his plate.

You shook your head. “Oh, stay where you are.”

“But, Your Highness.”

“I can afford to not be the head of a table for a single night.” You looked around. “I shall sit across from Miss Daphne Bridgerton.”

“She knows your name!” Hyacinth’s voice rose three octaves. You figured you could make her night by having the princess knowledgeable about the Bridgertons.

Colin and Benedict scrambled to pull their chairs apart so you could sit in between them. You waved Marshall away, plating your own food. You could feel the silence of the dinner table as you did things the normal way you would at Kew or Buckingham House.

They also might have been preoccupied with your disguise rather than the way you dragged your own spoon through the mashed potatoes. It was natural. Your siblings had told you all about how people would scrutinize the different masks you would wear. They'd try their hardest to get a real glimpse of your face.

The eye holes had sheer coverings on them that made it hard to see your true eye color. And when it came to your mouth. Your maids had taken their painstakingly slow time making sure the makeup covered up an unique qualities around your mouth and changed the shape of your lips to a shape unrecognizable to you at all. Hungry mamas with daughters they'd want to be in your court or sons they'd want to court you are able to sniff out something like the tiniest wrinkle by the bottom of your lip and use that to scout the whole ton until they found you without the mask on.

It happened to Edward countless of times and was the reason for all the rules regarding the masks in the first place. You looked up after cutting your chicken.

“What were you all talking about before I arrived?”

“Lady Whistledown,” Eloise cut in before anyone could stop her.

“Really? Tell me more.”

“You want to know?”

“Of course I do. I must know her identity. However I must say I will be having a private word with her about not publishing speculation of my father’s death.”

“How is he?”

“Oh, he’s perfectly fine. No matter, though, I need to know every thought you have on our mysterious Lady Whistledown?”

You enjoyed the bickering between everyone. There wasn’t even a firm thought on what class Whistledown belonged to. In your opinion it had to have been an upper class woman. Only someone like that could have enough time on their hands and still survive day to day needs. You dipped your fork into the potatoes.

“Viscount Bridgerton, I must say that any correspondence between the royals and the Bridgerton House should be sent to Kew. I stay there now.”

“Correspondence?” Violet asked, trying to suppress the excitement in her voice.

“Yes. I shall need to understand the ton more than what I have studied. Don’t bother putting them together. I much prefer to read individual letters. Now, I have engagements already arranged for tomorrow so I must be on my way. However, I would love to attend dinner again. Goodnight, Lady Bridgerton, Viscount, Bridgertons, Your Grace.”

Anthony stood up from the table. “Let me escort you to your carriage.”

“That would be much appreciated, Lord Bridgerton.”

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom,

I implore you all to remember that gossip, particularly baseless gossip, can be a dangerous thing. While we all are very entertained by Lady Whistledown, remember that you must discover the truth for yourself. I would hate to see lives ruined over entertainment.

Yours Truly,

Princess Y/N Hanover

Dear Viscount Bridgerton,

The dinner at your house was very lovely. Your family seems to be a wonderful group of people. I am sorry for keeping my lady’s maid away for so long. She has been in Ireland, procuring plant seeds and fabrics for me. Please fret no more for she will be back soon. But I do have to say our correspondence might be limited to letters for a majority of our current time. Until I am introduced to society, it is not wise for me to constantly be out. I shall look forward to more times spent with the Bridgertons at a later date.

Yours Truly,

Princess Y/N Hanover

You finished signing the letter, handing it to Pandora to take to the press for copies to be made. Moving an entire printing house from Buckingham to Kew wasn’t exactly quick and easy but your staff had managed to do it in no time at all. For the time being, Kew was entirely self-sufficient.

“Please take the letters for the Bridgertons to their house after you have visited the press.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Brimsley, what is on the schedule after the physician leaves?”

“You wanted to ride horses and then prepare a bouquet for the ball tomorrow night to be delivered by one of us.”

“Yes, thank you. And after that?”

Reynolds looked at you and then his partner. You had just made the schedule no less than an hour ago. It didn’t seem normal for you to not know. Their eye contact didn’t waiver as they silently communicated to not say a word but just answer all your questions. You got up, moving to your wardrobe to get a petticoat for outside.

“Ah, yes, Brimsley. Are we preparing the bouquet tonight before or after the physici…an…”

Tears started to well up in your eyes as you realized you had asked the question already. Brimsley and Reynolds were a tad too slow. You were already in the wardrobe, trying to calm yourself down. Every time a sob left your mouth or you begged them not to tell your parents caused some pain in their hearts. Reynolds stopped Pandora from leaving, handing the letters to a different lady-in-waiting.

You looked up in the dark space when you heard the knocking. It was hard to ignore the dogs in the shadows just waiting to snap at you. But the dark stopped the heavens from coming in. It was always a compromise. And since the heavens confused your mind and blocked your memory, the dogs would have to wait.

“You can open it.”

Pandora stuck her head in, trying to prevent too much light from coming in. “You’re stronger than whatever you have, you know? It doesn’t matter. None of it does… Maybe you should show the planets and shadow dogs and other shadow creatures that they cannot control a princess. They do not control you.”

Reynolds sighed as he said a quick prayer to not be fired. “Maybe going to the ball would show the shadows that they cannot control you.”

You didn’t really have a choice. Pandora practically pulled you out of the closet and started making plans for tomorrow’s ball, including how to enjoy yourself but stay hidden.

(part 4)...

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@fredsbetch @cherrylovers-world @chrystinaamanda @grassclippers @flyestvenustrap @spookystitchery @lovelyygirl8 @ben-has-arrived @tragically-hipp

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#bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict fluff #benedict x reader

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 2 months ago

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Back home p.4

Hey guyss, I hope you enjoy this part, here's part 3 if you've missed it.

You hesitate for a moment, fingers hovering over your phone screen before finally typing out the message to Charles.

Hey Charles, it’s Y/N. I know this might sound a bit silly, but I was invited to a party tonight for the first day of school. Since they saw me getting a ride from Arthur, they figured out I know you, and they asked me to invite you. No pressure at all, I totally understand if you have other plans or don’t want to go.

You hit send, not really expecting much. Charles is busy—always has been, always will be. Arthur, on the other hand, had already agreed to come without hesitation. He'd said he didn’t want you to go alone, insisting with a protectiveness that made you feel a bit more at ease about the evening.

You sigh, standing in front of your closet, trying to figure out what to wear. The party probably wasn’t anything too fancy, but knowing Monaco, you didn’t want to underdress either. You sift through your clothes, settling on something casual yet stylish—a dress that’s just the right balance between effortless and chic.

As you start to get ready, you catch a glimpse of your phone lighting up on the bed. You reach for it, surprised to see Charles’s name pop up on the screen.

Hey, Y/N. I’m not sure if I can make it, but I’ll try to swing by if I can.

You smile at the message, a small flutter of excitement in your chest. The fact that he even responded, let alone might come, was unexpected.

You type a quick reply: No worries at all, I totally get it. But if you can come, that’d be great!

You finish getting ready, slipping into the dress you picked out. It hugs your figure just right, and with a final glance in the mirror, you add the finishing touches—some light makeup and your favourite earrings. Just as you’re adjusting your hair, a knock sounds at your door.

When you open it, Arthur is leaning against the doorframe, dressed casually but effortlessly cool, as usual. For a moment, his breath catches as he takes you in. His eyes sweep over you, lingering a little longer than usual, and a wave of possessiveness surges inside him.

"God, she looks stunning," he thinks, jaw tightening slightly. He can't help the feeling that bubbles up every time he’s near you—the desire to keep you close, to have you all to himself. It’s more than just friendship, and he knows it. But it’s easier this way, staying in the space between, rather than risking it all by making a move.

“You look…” he starts, clearing his throat, his voice softer than usual. “You look gorgeous.”

You smile, brushing off the compliment as you grab your bag. “Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Arthur flashes a grin, but inside, all he can think about is how tonight, he’ll have you by his side. At least for a little while.

As you pull up to the party, you’re expecting something laid-back, a small gathering of students at someone’s house. But when you arrive, your eyes widen in surprise. The “house” in question is a massive mansion, lights twinkling, and music pulsing from inside. Cars are lined up out front, expensive ones, and you can already hear the hum of a crowd, loud and lively.

“This… is not what I was expecting,” you mutter, glancing over at Arthur, who smirks, not surprised in the least. “I should’ve known it’d be something over the top.”

Arthur chuckles, keeping his hand casually on the steering wheel, but his focus is still on you. “Welcome to Monaco parties, chérie. "

As you step out of the car, Arthur stays close, his hand gently guiding you by the small of your back. You don’t think much of it—it’s just Arthur being Arthur, always looking out for you. But as you walk through the entrance, heads turn, and you can feel people watching, murmuring as you and Arthur make your way through the crowded space.

Girls start to notice Arthur, their eyes lighting up as they recognize him. A few begin to make their way over, smiling, calling his name. You watch, amused, thinking it’s funny how much attention he gets in a place like this. But Arthur seems less entertained. His hand at your back shifts, his touch firmer, guiding you more directly through the crowd.

You don’t notice the way his jaw clenches, or the way his grip on you tightens slightly as if he’s making sure you don’t slip away. To you, it’s just Arthur being protective, the way he always is.

“You’re really popular tonight,” you say with a light laugh, not noticing the flicker of tension in his eyes as more girls try to catch his attention.

He smiles down at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s find somewhere quieter,” he says, his voice low, almost like a suggestion, but there’s a firmness to it that you don’t pick up on.

You nod, completely unaware of the possessiveness behind his actions, assuming it’s just his usual concern for your comfort. As you walk together through the party, Arthur keeps you close, his protectiveness wrapping around you like a shield.

You feel safe, never suspecting that to him, this isn’t just about keeping you safe—it’s about keeping you his.

The evening progresses, and despite the overwhelming size of the party, you find yourself having a good time. Arthur stays close by your side, making you laugh, sharing stories, and keeping you entertained. Every now and then, more people approach him, eager to talk or catch his attention, but Arthur barely engages, always redirecting the conversation back to you. It feels comfortable, easy—just like old times.

After a while, though, you feel the need for a break. “I’m going to grab a drink,” you tell Arthur over the music, gesturing toward the bar. “Be right back.”

He hesitates for a moment, as if he wants to go with you, but then nods, giving you space. “Don’t be too long, okay?” he says with a grin, his tone light but his gaze lingering on you as you walk away.

You weave through the crowd, making your way toward the bar, and when you finally reach it, you order something simple, grateful for the moment to catch your breath. As you take a sip, you turn to head back to Arthur, but suddenly, a guy steps into your path.

“Hey there,” he says, his voice slurred slightly. He’s too close, his eyes roaming over you in a way that makes you instantly uncomfortable.

You try to move around him, but he steps in front of you again, blocking your way. “Why don’t you stay and chat for a bit?” he suggests, a smirk playing on his lips.

“No, thanks,” you say firmly, trying to keep your tone polite but strong. “I’m with someone. I need to get back.”

But he doesn’t back off. Instead, he leans closer, his breath smelling of alcohol. “Come on, don’t be like that. Just a quick drink, huh?”

You take a step back, your heart starting to race as you glance around, but the crowd is thick, and no one seems to notice what’s happening. “Please, let me through,” you say, your voice more insistent now.

The guy chuckles, clearly not getting the hint. “You’re too pretty to leave alone. Come on, sweetheart, stay a little longer.”

Before you can respond, a sharp voice cuts through the noise behind you. “She said she’s not interested. Move along.”

You freeze for a moment, recognizing the voice immediately. Slowly, you turn around, and there, standing just behind you, is Charles. His expression is calm, but there’s a dangerous edge to his tone, one that leaves no room for argument.

The guy glances at Charles, clearly recognizing him, and for a second, it looks like he’s going to say something snide. But Charles steps forward, his presence commanding. “Leave,” he repeats, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The guy mumbles something under his breath before stumbling away, finally leaving you alone. You exhale, the tension in your body slowly releasing as Charles turns to you.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer now, his concerned eyes meeting yours.

You nod, still a little shaken but grateful. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks… I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Charles smiles slightly, but there’s a seriousness in his gaze. “I told you I’d try to come. Seems like I showed up just in time.”

Tag list: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22, @victoriaholland, @abq654, @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @anaferreira-4, @larastark3107, @itgirlofthecenturysposts, @boherahpsody, @iamkaku, @jz12

Here's part 5

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x female reader #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc

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kookie-doughs · 1 year ago

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Daddy Cupid

Modern!Various One Piece Men X Reader

-When your father grows weary of your single life, he takes it upon himself to play matchmaker. With him knowing the entire city, he embarks on a mission to find you the perfect match.

Chapter 3: Cupid's Aim

The morning arrives, and you find yourself grumbling, knowing that your date is just around the corner. The thought of yet another attempt by your father to play matchmaker has you feeling less than enthusiastic about the day ahead.

As you check your phone, you find messages from various people. Shanks sends you a congratulations for your date, Smoker and Buggy both wish you good luck, and your dad sends you a reminder. You sigh and reluctantly get out of bed. Your date is in just three hours, so you decide to start getting ready, mentally preparing yourself for what lies ahead.

For your date, you decide to go with a cute and casual look that's both comfortable and stylish. You choose a knee-length, floral-print sundress with a cinched waist that flatters your figure. Pair it with a light denim jacket for a touch of warmth if needed.

To complete the look, slip on some white sneakers for comfort during your date. Keep your accessories minimal with a delicate necklace and a few bangle bracelets. Finish it off with a crossbody bag for practicality, and you're ready to go with a charming and effortless outfit.

After spending a bit more time on your makeup than you anticipated, you finally finish getting ready, and you're satisfied with the way you look. With your cute outfit and makeup in place, you're now good to go for your date, feeling confident and prepared for whatever the day may bring.

Feeling better about the day and your appearance, you step out of your apartment with confidence. However, your confidence is short-lived as you accidentally bump into someone in the hallway. You look up to see that it's Perona.

"Ah! Sorry, miss!" she apologize.

You waves off her apology with a smile. "It's fine, sweetie, but you really shouldn't run in the halls."

She explain hurriedly, "I need to get to Zoro, miss. Sorry, but my dad will kill me if I'm late!"

You nods understandingly, and you continue on your way, hoping to avoid any further delays on this already eventful day. You ran to get on the elevator.

You quickly press the hold button on the elevator as someone calls out to hold it. To your surprise, it's Mihawk who steps inside.

"Thanks for holding," he acknowledges.

You smile at him. "No problem."

"By the way, have you seen the kids anywhere? They ran off after taking my wallet."

You can't help but hold back a laugh as you remember the incident. "Ah, so that's why they were in such a hurry. I think they took the stairs," you inform him, sharing a knowing look about the mischievous kids.

You take a moment to check your phone, hoping to see if your date has sent you any messages. However, you roll your eyes in annoyance when you realize he hasn't.

Mihawk notices your formal attire and makes an observation, "You're dressed formally today. I'll assume it's another date arranged by your father?"

You respond with a sarcastic laugh, "Yeah, it's so tiring. But alas, he always wins." You motion at your dress, highlighting the fact that you're once again going along with your father's matchmaking schemes.

Mihawk offers a supportive smile and says, "Well, let's hope you dressed nicely for something worth your while this time."

As the elevator doors open, he steps out, and you follow suit. After exchanging your goodbyes, you continue on with your day, hoping that this date arranged by your father will at least be an interesting one.

You arrive at the coffee shop, and Law, who is manning the cashier, greets you with a smirk. He takes note of your attire and can't resist making a comment.

"Your date hasn't come in yet," he remarks teasingly.

You roll your eyes and reply, "Shut up."

Law leans in conspiratorially, "Is it my uncle? I saw him getting ready this morning."

You groan in exasperation, saying, "I will literally jump off a cliff."

Law chuckles and decides, "Well, I'm not taking your order until your date comes, so go and take your spot."

With a sigh, you follow Law's instructions and head to your designated spot, prepared to wait for your date's arrival.

As you wait for your date, you occupy yourself by scrolling through your phone. You take note of various posts, ranging from your friends' daily updates to adorable pictures of other people's kids. You even stumble upon a post from your ex-boyfriend, which brings back some memories and mixed feelings.

"How come he doesn't have to go through these stupid dates..."

Law calls you over after a few minutes, and you walk over to him. He points in the direction of a man seated at a table. You observe the man, noting his tall and slim yet muscular build, arched eyebrows, and a close-shaved goatee. His shoulder-length wavy black hair gives him a distinct appearance. He's dressed in a two-piece black suit with the sleeves casually rolled up, wearing black leather shoes, and a white tie and handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket.

You stare at the man, unsure whether he's your date or not. You slowly approach him and tap his shoulder.

As the man lifts his head and his eyes lock with yours, he stares at you intently. You start to feel a bit nervous under his gaze and let out a nervous laugh.

"Are you waiting for someone? Perhaps a date?" you ask, breaking the silence.

He shakes his head, face slowly turning red as he cleared his throat. "N-No, I am not. Sorry, I just..."

You chuckle, "I see. Well, sorry for bothering you. I thought you were my date with how you're dressed."

The man keeps his eyes fixed on you, seemingly mesmerized, and takes a deep breath before asking, "May I get your name?"

You chuckle softly at his admiration and reply, "Of course, it's-"

Your conversation with the man is interrupted when you hear your phone chime. You look at the notification.

Seeing it was a text from your date you rolled your eyes.

You shoot a "K" reply and grumbled. Looking down on your outfit and get up you frowned.

"Uhm..." The man got your attention. "I'm Rob Lucci."

"Y/N." You offer your hand and he takes it. "Sorry, I'm really upset right now..."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"My date ditched me." You raise your hand and Law understood.

Frustrated by the events, you decide to take a seat at Lucci's table. You vent your frustration by posting about how your date ditched you on social media, making sure to hide the post from your dad's friends to avoid any further meddling in your love life.

Previous | Masterlist

Hey guyssss!! This is the end of these parts you need to go to the masterlist and select which route you want to go to!

Obviously they're not all going to be written at once I'll write them one at a time and uploads will come every monday. I'm not gonna post chapter for marco and a chapter for that and for that guy every monday only one chapter the character varies with whoever I felt like writing </3 i hope you'll understand its to keep myself from dropping this story

I'll write whoever I want to write first I'm not going to follow the arrangement on the masterlist >< unless you request a character to come first

I hope youll enjoy this story thank you for your support!

-kookiedoughs

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cynic-spirit · 3 months ago

Text

Winter

Tony Stark, the genius billionaire with a penchant for snark, stood in the cozy warmth of his lab at the Avengers Tower, effortlessly tinkering with some new gadget. His soulmate, Yn, however, was bundled up as if she were about to trek through the Arctic. She wore a thick, woolen coat, gloves, and a scarf tightly wrapped around her neck, topped with a fuzzy hat that barely allowed her to see.

"You know, Yn," Tony began, his tone dripping with amusement, "for someone so stylish, you sure know how to make a fashion statement. Are you planning to climb Everest after this, or just trying to impersonate a very fashionable snowman?"

Yn shot him a playful glare, her breath puffing out in visible clouds despite the insulated confines of the tower. "Not everyone has a miniature arc reactor keeping them warm, Tony. Some of us have to rely on good old-fashioned layers."

Tony grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he put down the tool he was working with. He sauntered over to her, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "You know, I could always build you a personal heating system. Something sleek, stylish, maybe even a little bit... Stark-branded. That way, you wouldn't have to look like you're preparing for a snowstorm every time the temperature drops a degree or two."

Yn huffed, though the corners of her mouth twitched in a smile. "Or, you could just turn up the thermostat."

Tony pretended to consider it for a moment, then shook his head. "Nah, where's the fun in that? Besides, I think it's cute. All bundled up, you look like a little marshmallow. My little marshmallow."

She rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a grin. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And yet, you still love me," he quipped, leaning in to press a kiss on her cold cheek. His lips lingered for a second longer, and when he pulled back, his expression softened. "But seriously, if you're cold, just say the word. I'll build something for you, no problem."

Yn smiled warmly, the chill in her bones momentarily forgotten. "Thanks, Tony. But I think I'll stick with my layers for now. It gives you something to tease me about."

"You're right," Tony agreed, his eyes gleaming with affection. "And we both know how much I enjoy that."

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Despite his teasing, the warmth of his embrace was all she really needed. In that moment, it didn’t matter how cold it was outside—or inside. As long as Tony was there, Yn knew she’d always feel warm enough.

It was a particularly chilly day in New York, and despite the advanced heating systems in the Avengers Tower, Yn found herself struggling with the cold. She had piled on layers upon layers—starting with a thick thermal shirt, followed by a cashmere sweater, and topped off with a bulky winter coat. But even then, the biting cold seemed to seep through, leaving her feeling frozen to the core. Eventually, Yn resigned herself to the warmth of her favorite plush blanket, wrapping herself up until she resembled a giant furball with only a small part of her face visible.

Tony, as always, was unfazed by the weather. He was in his lab, casually dressed in his usual T-shirt, sleeves rolled up as he worked on his latest project. When he glanced over and saw Yn buried in her blanket cocoon, he couldn’t help but smile—a soft, genuine smile that rarely graced his features. The sight of his soulmate, huddled up and so thoroughly bundled, made something warm and protective stir in his chest.

"Sweetheart," Tony called out, his tone a mixture of amusement and affection, "are you planning on hibernating until spring?"

Yn shifted slightly, just enough to peek out from her blanket fortress. Her eyes were wide with disbelief as she stared at Tony, who looked completely unaffected by the cold. "How are you not freezing?" she asked, her voice muffled slightly by the layers around her. "You’re wearing a T-shirt, Tony! I can barely feel my toes, and I’m practically drowning in clothes and blankets."

Tony chuckled, setting down the tool he had been working with. He sauntered over to her, the sight of her nestled so deeply into the blankets only making his grin widen. "Well, I’ve got this nifty little device in my chest that keeps me nice and toasty," he said, tapping the arc reactor with a smirk. "Perks of being Iron Man."

Yn gave him a mock glare, her expression more pouty than angry. "I could use some of that toasty right now," she muttered, burrowing even deeper into her blankets until only her eyes were visible.

Tony knelt down beside the couch where she was cocooned, his gaze softening as he looked at her. He found it incredibly endearing—his usually composed and strong soulmate now reduced to a big, adorable furball of blankets, trying her best to fend off the cold. He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face, his fingers grazing her chilled skin.

“You know,” he began, his voice lowering to a tender murmur, “you’re the cutest furball I’ve ever seen. It’s kind of unfair, really. Here I am, trying to work, and all I can think about is how adorable you look all bundled up.”

Yn’s eyes crinkled at the corners, a clear sign she was smiling beneath the layers. “I’m glad one of us is enjoying this,” she replied, her voice still muffled but warm with affection. “I don’t even want to get up, Tony. I’m too cold to move.”

Tony’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions—amusement, adoration, and a protective urge to make sure she was comfortable. He leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger against her cold skin. The contrast between his warmth and her chill sent a shiver through her, and he noticed, pulling back with a concerned look.

“You’re freezing, Yn,” he said, his teasing tone giving way to something more serious. “Let me warm you up.”

Before she could protest, Tony slipped his arms around her, carefully maneuvering his way into the blanket cocoon she had created. He settled in beside her, pulling her close against him, his body heat instantly seeping through the layers.

“Tony,” Yn began, a little surprised by his sudden closeness, “you don’t have to—”

“I know,” Tony interrupted softly, his breath warm against her ear. “But I want to. Besides, it’s not every day I get to cuddle with a human burrito. You’re stuck with me now.”

Yn sighed, the warmth of his body and the comforting weight of his arms around her easing some of the chill that had settled in her bones. She snuggled closer, resting her head against his chest, right where she could hear the faint hum of the arc reactor. It was oddly soothing, a reminder of the man who loved her enough to drop everything just to make sure she wasn’t cold.

“Feeling better?” Tony asked after a few moments, his voice laced with affection.

“A little,” Yn admitted, her voice softer now, more relaxed. “You’re like a personal heater.”

“Just one of the many services I offer,” Tony quipped, his hand gently rubbing circles on her back through the blanket. “But seriously, Yn, if you’re cold, just say the word. I’ll crank up the heat in here, or we can take a trip to somewhere warm. How about Hawaii?”

Yn chuckled, the sound muffled by the layers. “As tempting as that sounds, I think I’m good right here. As long as you’re with me.”

Tony smiled, a genuine, content smile that reached his eyes. “Good answer,” he said, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “Now, why don’t we just stay like this for a while? I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time that day, Yn felt completely warm. Not just from Tony’s body heat, but from the love and care he so openly showed her. Wrapped up in her blankets, with Tony by her side, the cold didn’t seem so bad after all.

As Tony held Yn close, he noticed that the usual soft murmurs of their conversation had fallen silent. The only sounds left in the room were the quiet hum of the arc reactor in his chest and the faint rustling of blankets as he adjusted his hold on her. Curiosity piqued, he tilted his head slightly and looked down at her, expecting to see those warm, deep eyes gazing up at him. But instead, what he saw made his heart swell with an emotion so profound it nearly took his breath away.

Yn had fallen asleep in his arms, her face relaxed and peaceful, framed by the layers of blankets she had wrapped herself in. Her breath was soft and even, a gentle rise and fall that spoke of utter comfort and trust. Her lips were slightly parted, and a stray lock of hair had fallen over her forehead. Tony couldn’t help but smile, his heart filling with a tender warmth that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.

For a long moment, Tony just stared at her, memorizing the details of this serene scene. She looked so small, so delicate in his arms, yet there was something immensely powerful about the trust she placed in him. To fall asleep so deeply, so completely without worry—she felt safe with him. That realization filled Tony with a deep sense of contentment, something he hadn’t experienced in years, if ever.

As he held her, Tony’s thoughts began to drift back to the time before Yn had entered his life. He remembered the endless nights spent alone in his penthouse, the hollow feeling that had settled in his chest despite the luxury and success that surrounded him. He had everything a man could want—money, power, fame—but the one thing that had always eluded him was the connection he craved on a deeper, more personal level.

There were days when Tony had wondered if he would ever find his soulmate, the person who was supposed to complete him. The doubts had gnawed at him, especially in the quiet moments when the world around him seemed to stand still, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He had tried to distract himself—throwing himself into his work, creating suits, saving the world—but nothing ever filled the void that lingered in his heart.

But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory. Because here she was, Yn, snuggled up and sleeping in his arms without a care in the world. She had filled that void with her presence, with her warmth and love, in a way Tony hadn’t even realized he needed. And as he gazed down at her, Tony couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer luck—no, the fate—that had brought them together.

Tony’s arms tightened around Yn slightly, as if to ensure that she was real, that she wasn’t just another dream. The weight of her in his embrace, the warmth of her breath against his chest, all confirmed that she was indeed here with him. His heart ached with a fierce protectiveness, an overwhelming desire to keep her safe and happy, to make sure she never felt the loneliness he had once endured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering there as he closed his eyes. The scent of her hair, a mixture of vanilla and something uniquely Yn, filled his senses, grounding him in this perfect moment. He knew he would do anything to keep her in his life, to make sure she always felt as loved and cherished as she made him feel.

"Thank you," Tony whispered against her hair, his voice barely audible. "Thank you for being here, for finding me."

As Yn slept on, unaware of the depth of his thoughts, Tony continued to hold her, content to simply watch over her as she rested. In that quiet moment, with his soulmate in his arms, Tony Stark realized that he had finally found what he had been searching for all his life. And he knew, without a doubt, that he would never take it for granted.

For the first time in a long while, Tony Stark felt truly at peace. The cold, the loneliness, the doubts—they all seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of Yn’s presence in his arms and the steady beat of his heart against hers. And as he sat there, watching her sleep, Tony knew that this—right here, right now—was everything he had ever wanted. Everything he would ever need.

Tony carefully shifted his position, mindful not to disturb Yn as she slept peacefully in his arms. He knew he needed to get back to his work—there were always projects demanding his attention—but the thought of waking her up made him pause. She looked so content, so utterly at ease in her blanket cocoon, that Tony found himself hesitating, reluctant to break the spell of this quiet, intimate moment.

With the utmost care, Tony slowly began to ease Yn out of his embrace, sliding his arms out from beneath her while supporting her head and back. She murmured softly in her sleep, her face nuzzling briefly against his chest as if seeking out the warmth she had grown accustomed to. Tony’s heart gave a small, involuntary tug, but he continued, moving with a gentle precision that only years of working with delicate machinery could have trained him for.

Finally, he managed to lay her down on the couch, making sure she was still wrapped snugly in the blankets that had become her makeshift cocoon. He took a moment to adjust the layers, ensuring they were tucked around her just right, leaving no gaps for the cold air to sneak in. He even added an extra throw from the back of the couch, draping it over her for good measure. Satisfied that she was warm and comfortable, Tony stood up slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements that might rouse her.

But before he could step away, he remembered the one variable that could potentially ruin this peaceful scene: JARVIS. Tony’s AI assistant was incredibly efficient, but sometimes efficiency came with the drawback of unintended noise—like a sudden alert, a notification chime, or even just the sound of the AI’s voice responding to a query. The last thing Tony wanted was for Yn to be jolted awake by something as mundane as an update notification.

Leaning in closer to the nearest interface, Tony’s voice dropped to a low, almost conspiratorial whisper. “JARVIS,” he began, his tone firm but quiet, “listen to me very carefully. I don’t want to hear a single sound from you. No alerts, no updates, nothing. If you wake her up, I will dismantle you, piece by piece, and use your parts to build a toaster. Do I make myself clear?”

JARVIS, always attuned to Tony’s moods and whims, responded with a tone that could almost be described as amused, if such a thing were possible for an AI. “Crystal clear, sir. I shall remain silent until further notice.”

“Good,” Tony whispered back, casting one last glance at Yn’s peaceful form before straightening up and heading back to his workbench.

As Tony returned to his workstation, he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, a smile that refused to leave no matter how hard he tried to focus on the task at hand. He had experienced countless moments of joy and satisfaction in his life—from building the first Iron Man suit in that cave to saving the world time and time again—but this was different. This was something softer, something more intimate, and it filled him with a warmth that had nothing to do with the arc reactor in his chest.

Sitting down at his workbench, Tony picked up the tools he had set aside earlier, his hands moving with practiced ease as he resumed his work. The lab was quiet, save for the occasional soft clink of metal against metal and the faint whirring of machinery in the background. But even in this silence, there was a new energy in the room, a kind of contentment that had settled over Tony like a comforting blanket.

Every so often, Tony would glance over at the couch, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of Yn, still curled up and fast asleep. The sight filled him with a sense of pride—pride that he could make her feel so safe, so loved, that she could fall asleep without a single worry in the world. It was a far cry from the man he had been before her, the man who had hidden his vulnerabilities behind sarcasm and bravado, unsure if he would ever find someone who could love him for who he truly was.

Now, as he worked, that old loneliness seemed like a distant memory. Yn had brought light into his life, a light that had banished the shadows he had once grown so accustomed to. And as he continued to tinker with the machinery in front of him, Tony found that the smile on his face was not just a product of the moment—it was a reflection of the profound happiness she had brought into his life.

Time passed, and Tony became absorbed in his work, but that smile remained, a constant reminder of the sleeping figure just a few feet away. For once, he didn’t feel the usual pressure to hurry, to finish the project as quickly as possible. There was a calmness in him, a patience that came from knowing that, when he was done, Yn would still be there, wrapped up in her blankets, waiting for him.

Tony allowed himself to bask in this quiet joy, to savor the rare sense of contentment that filled his heart. He knew that life would always be chaotic, that the world would continue to throw challenges his way, but he also knew that, with Yn by his side, he could face anything. She was his anchor, his constant, the one who had turned his house into a home.

And as he worked through the night, that smile—born of love, of gratitude, of a deep and abiding connection—never left his face.

Tony Stark had faced countless challenges in his life—building an empire, becoming Iron Man, and shouldering the responsibility of protecting the world. Yet, nothing had quite prepared him for the emotional whirlwind of discovering that his soulmate, Yn, was a beloved children's book author. The contrast between their worlds was so stark that it often left him in a state of disbelief, struggling to reconcile how someone as sweet and gentle as Yn could be fated to be with someone like him.

Yn's world was filled with whimsy and innocence. Her books were cherished by children and parents alike, brimming with stories of talking animals, magical forests, and adventures that always ended with a comforting moral. She had a gift for seeing the world through a lens of kindness and imagination, and it was this very gift that made her so beloved by millions. Her words had the power to soothe, to inspire, and to create a sense of wonder that seemed to touch everyone who read her stories. Yn was, in every sense, a beacon of light in a world that often felt too dark and complicated.

Tony, on the other hand, had spent most of his life immersed in a very different kind of world—one dominated by technology, power, and often, destruction. Stark Industries had been synonymous with cutting-edge weaponry long before he ever donned the Iron Man suit. His legacy was built on machines of war, tools designed to protect but also to destroy when necessary. Even after shifting the company’s focus to clean energy and humanitarian projects, the shadows of his past lingered, casting doubts and insecurities that he rarely allowed anyone to see.

It was these shadows that made it difficult for Tony to fully accept that someone as sweet and pure as Yn could truly be his soulmate. He often found himself questioning the cosmic forces that had brought them together, wondering if there hadn’t been some kind of mistake. How could he, a man who had built his fortune on weapons and whose very identity was tied to the armor he wore, be the other half of a woman who crafted worlds of innocence and wonder for children?

This contrast between them was something that Tony couldn’t ignore. He would often watch Yn at her desk, writing or sketching out ideas for her next book, her brow furrowed in concentration as she lost herself in her work. There was a gentleness to her that seemed almost otherworldly to him—a quality that felt so foreign compared to the harsh realities he was used to. He admired her ability to create beauty in the world, to offer something pure and untainted, even as he grappled with the knowledge of his own darker contributions to society.

There were moments when Tony felt a deep sense of unworthiness, as if he didn’t deserve the love and light that Yn brought into his life. He had seen and done things that he wasn’t proud of, made decisions that had cost lives, and even though he had tried to make amends, the weight of those choices still bore down on him. Yn, with her boundless kindness and her talent for creating joy, seemed too good for him, too pure for the complexities of his world. It was hard for Tony to imagine how someone like her could ever fully understand or accept the darker parts of his life.

Yet, despite these doubts, Tony couldn’t help but be drawn to Yn, as if she were a balm for his wounded soul. She had a way of making him feel lighter, of helping him see the good that still existed within him, even when he struggled to see it himself. Yn never shied away from who Tony was; she accepted him, flaws and all, and somehow managed to find beauty in the contrasts that defined their relationship.

Yn often spoke about how every story needed balance—how even the sweetest tales had moments of conflict or sadness that made the happy endings all the more meaningful. She would tell Tony that their relationship was just like one of her stories: it was the balance between their worlds that made their connection so special. To her, Tony wasn’t just a man of war and armor; he was someone who had fought for change, someone who had turned his life around to make the world a better place. She saw the hero in him, not just the weapons manufacturer or the man in the iron suit.

Tony found himself clinging to these reassurances, even as he continued to struggle with his doubts. He admired Yn’s ability to find light in the darkness, to see the potential for good in even the most flawed of characters. It was this perspective that slowly began to change the way Tony saw himself, helping him to accept that maybe, just maybe, he was worthy of the love she offered.

There were still days when Tony would sit in his workshop, staring at the array of weaponry he had created, and feel a pang of guilt. But now, those moments were tempered by the knowledge that Yn was waiting for him upstairs, ready to share her latest story idea or simply to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie. Her presence in his life was a reminder that he didn’t have to be defined by his past, that he could be more than just the sum of his mistakes.

Yn’s influence on Tony was profound. She had a way of softening his rough edges, of bringing out the parts of him that he had long buried under layers of cynicism and self-reliance. With her, he could let his guard down, allow himself to be vulnerable in a way that he had never been able to before. She taught him that it was okay to embrace the sweeter, softer aspects of life, that it didn’t make him any less of a man or a hero.

In time, Tony began to see their relationship not as a contradiction, but as a beautiful paradox—a testament to the idea that even in the most unexpected pairings, there could be harmony. Yn’s sweetness wasn’t a contrast to his strength; it was a complement to it. Together, they created a balance that made them both stronger, both more complete.

And so, Tony learned to accept, and even to cherish, the fact that his soulmate was a woman who wrote stories for children, who believed in the power of imagination and kindness. It was this very sweetness, this light that Yn brought into his life, that made Tony believe in the possibility of redemption, of becoming the man she saw when she looked at him with those loving, understanding eyes.

In the end, it wasn’t about whether or not they were an obvious match. It was about the fact that they had found each other, that despite their differences, they had created something beautiful together. Yn’s world of wonder and Tony’s world of technology had merged in a way that neither of them had expected, but both had come to treasure. It was a love story as unique and unexpected as the two of them, and Tony wouldn’t have had it any other way.

#tony stark soulmate #tony stark x you #tony stark imagine #tony stark reader #tony stark x reader #iron man x soulmate #iron man x y/n #iron man x you #iron man x reader #iron man

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dorcasrises · 2 years ago

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where; burbank, california with; apollo, mary, & esther selwyn | selfpara

even without the address memorized in her mind, dorcas would have known which house on the street belonged to her father instantly. the exterior boasted the same mid-century modern design that her gran styled the townhouse interior. he had never fit so ill in their world as the woman liked to claim. it looked much the same as his bedroom had been left. stylish, but lacking warmth.

dorcas ground her teeth together until an ache jolted up her jaw. her knuckles where white in the tight grip of her wand. how came war never made her nervous like this? why did killing come naturally, but looking her mother in the face felt like a nightmare? there was a steadied hand on her shoulder. she unlocked the front door with a simple charm and tucked that wand back into her now unnecessary coat. then she pushed the door open.

it was the music that hit her first. a happy melody played poorly on a well-tuned piano. apollo sat behind it plunking out the notes while he watched a younger girl, esther, dance in the middle of the living room floor. mary was sitting in a chair adjacent then with a large book in her lap. she noticed dorcas first. her mouth dropped open to scream. dorcas held up a hand and wordlessly silenced her.

apollo stopped playing. he had been home twice since dorcas was born and knew who she was. she did, afterall, have his eyes. as the recognition dawned there, so too did mary understand. was it fear in her gaze now? what did she think of her hellborn child? she wanted to make a joke. cut through the tension with her usual casual confidence and humor. did I miss curfew? honey, I’m home. boo! anything besides this silent staring.

there was a crucifix and painting of a despondent looking white bearded man hanging just inside the door that stared too. dorcas stepped past both. finally, esther turned to look at her too. the girl had smaller eyes and a rounder nose, but her cheek bones, jawline, and complexion were the exact same. there was no denying she was absolutely beautiful. her hair was dreaded in locks and pulled half up behind her. she was about a foot shorter than dorcas. so to speak on her level, dorcas needed to crouch a bit. “don’t be afraid.”

“or run away.” her eyes, burning, cut to their mother momentarily before a journal and quill appeared in dorcas’s outstretched and open palm. they were wrapped like a christmas gift. “my name is dorcas, and-” it felt cruel to complicate things too much (it was also illegal to reveal magic blatantly), but it felt worse to think that dorcas had left her alone for so long. “-and, uh, I am your guardian angel.“ she finally settled with before handing over the gifts. “so if you ever need anything, big or small or important or silly, write it down in this book. as long as I can, I will try to answer or take care of it. okay?”

there was an unspoken threat in the way her nostril flare that promised she would only return with another if they managed to take it from her, not that they could. even if apollo could finger out a spell to break through the charm, he wasn’t talented enough a wizard. especially not now. “I’m-” she bit her lip. part of her felt like she might faint. there was such an uproar of anger welling inside at it all. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

“oh, okay.” the girl said with obvious surprise in her voice that otherwise sounded and soft and fluid as a wave of water. “thank you.” dorcas smiled and winked. esther smiled back. whatever expectations that may have crawled their way into her brain, this really hadn’t been among them. as if there were an uncomplicated understanding between them. “okay.” dorcas repeated and stood up straight to leave. mary tried to stand up and say something again, but it did not cause dorcas to break her stride. it was too late.

originally, dorcas had wanted to come here and curse her. yell at this woman that abandoned her into the care of someone who barely tolerated her. to shout down her father who knew what he’d left her with, but when she arrived, there was no part of her that wanted to interact with them anymore. they had never added anything to her life anyway. what could they want for her now? so dorcas walked back out the door, ready to collapse.

#;selfpara #tw: religion

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ngmn2002 · 6 months ago

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Kaaaay, it seems I will be adding more to this mini-series. ~

Sweetness Overload!!!!!!!!!! My heart is dancing. ♫

...

It's only fair now we have Tsu & Nene edition.

And between that and this, so sorry, I choose my Tsu & Nene one because that one... oh... it overflows with sweetness, it's soooo fluffy, I can't!!! I have my issues with you Hanako, can't see you as cute as these 2 pure sweet little angels. I want to take them in a crushing hug!

Such a mood my Tsu & Nene have around them... let little Nene help me reflect my feeling toward it herself. ^^

💜🩵✨

I believe I can fly... over the rainbow. ~🌈 *finger snap* 1-2-3- here we go... 🎶 such a mood I'm having in there, no doubt that's their song, they have the power to make you fly, float in the sky, go beyond the coulds, land on a sweet fluffy rainbow.

And the nice thing is that we're getting some nice amount of them in arts (2 adorable twitter headers in a row!), manga, lately. MORE!!! Ahem, not me waiting for her to go 'play' with him. looking at the clock as I "petantly" wait: tick tock tick tock.

Now, let's talk about the art itself... staaaarting with Tsuuu!!!

The fashionable boy. ~ Stay stylish. ~ can this betaken as the first time, assumingly, we see 'yorishiro' Tsu without his hat? he is handsome in both cases. hahaha

Tsu, Tsu, Tsu, what are those? ~

Shiny.. shiny... sparkle! ✨

Oh, my... this is so cute!! This is so cute!!! You're so cute, I can't!!! let me style your hair, toooo!!!!! Ahem, it's funny, just thinking... wow... AidaIro... you don't just look at some conversations of mine and make them come true at times, but you also sneak into my head and read my thoughts?! how come you knew I wanted to see Tsu with those? especially the bear shaped ones? and made him look just as cute as I imagined him? hmmm? ~

The bear has a red ribbon, hmm? ~ cute purple ribbon there, blue hair clip with a cloud, stars, and your mokke and another red hair clip, awwwww!!!

And, those?

You're just adorable, you know that? AWWWWW!!! With all you have on you... you look fabulous!!! Again, I see you have a color schemes. ~ Remembering a SN line out of the blue, "the bandages are for me to look dashing, not because I have injuries". Ooooooh!!!!

A car instead of a train, Tsu?~

And, well... look at the ice cream you're offering, with your color and his... thank you, it tasted really good, the purple part especially. ~

Full view...

Fabulous... just perfect... Tsukasa... always in shape. ......... easy on my heart.

....

How?! How can someone be so cute YET so cool at the same time?! Simple yet WILD at the same time?! HOW?! What is your secret, Tsu?! Or is it that... you're so Tsukasa???

Uhhhh, your gorgeous eyes... your confident gaze... raised eyebrow... face resting on your palm... wide relaxed smile... adorable yet wild fangs showing out... you're so relaxed, so confident, so unbothered, so easy-going, so full of yourself, so cool, so chill, SO DASHING!!!! SO MISCHIEVOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BOOOOOY!!!!!!!! YOUR TSUKASA AURA IS TOO MUCH FOR ME!!!!!!!!! I'm about to start crying... oh my.... this boy is... this boy IS... cutely sly...!!! charmingly mischievous!!! cunning little foxie!!!

WOW, WOW, YOU'RE WOW!!!!!!!!

Regarding his 'style' ... I seriously want to see the rest of his outfit..... casual boy style... and... I'm a bit unsatisfied with the color of his top... but overall he looks perfect, too!!!

Ahem, moving on...

The core of this post isssssss...... Tsu & Nene Hairstyle Time!!!!!

Sooooo, the very moment I saw this art, it came to me "oh, so it's not only Amane who likes to play with Tsu's soft gourgous hair, we have Nene, too. It's her time to shine now! Fair enough! I'm more convinced than ever now that Tsukasa's hair IS magical." And, oh!!! She did him so well!!!! I'm impressed!!!

On the other hand, he did her really well, too!!!

Uhhhhh, she looks adorable!!! In full view, just perfect!!

Dunno, but I've always headcanoned that Tsu likes this hairstyle of Nene's the most! And, as I see it, he moved to style her hair just like that! Can't have enough of the cute blue ribbons!! The little rabbit/mokke? clip!! But Tsuuu!!! you could have added more hair clips!!!! Maybe made her look like this version of hers.

But well, maybe a sense of 'simplify' is better. She looks perfect just the way she is there! Good job, Tsu!

For a moment, after seeing Nene's beautiful nail polish yes, more Nene like this, she deserves this, not only other girls, but her, too! I lived to witness her like this, oh!, I went to look at Tsu's nails... to see whether they are purple or not, but well, I found the usual. He is awesome just the way he is. ~ It's that I couldn't help but wonder if she were going to do the same she did for Hanako with him, too.

Well, Tsu & Nene still shared a thing I love muuuuuuuuch better, the other I don't really care much about.

And they did it better than HanaNene. They match better in there. ~ Oh, they are in fact, so in sync... perfect talents they have when they are with each other. ~

💜🩵

Now, let's bring the guy we mentioned up. ~ The thing these two cuties are doing is...

Offering you a part of my heart, in the form of a sweet, heartwarming ice cream. ~

Sooo, which one shall you choose? ~

One goes so chill about it, a tease of a little brother, "come on, you wanna have a spoon? ~"

The other is so cutely eager about it, "here! have some!"

Haha, how is the weather around you? ~

👀 Not the twins matching with their shirts, one has T and the other H on his. ~ Nene does have her N, too. why would Hanako have his shirt closely matching with his color and Tsu not. =_= and wow, his ice cream is so simple and plain... Amane.

Back on topic, which shall you choose, guy with the DOUBLE heart attacks? ~ can't handle ALL the curtness your lovelies come with, can you? you're so weak to that, are you not?~

We know the answer, don't we?

Both. ~ The two formed a team to please you, after all. ~ And you won't only have a taste, you'll devour the whole ice cream they have. You have such a good appetite after all. ~ A small taste won't ever be enough, it will drive you to want more, and more, and more. I can see a part of the reason you're taken aback in there, maybe trying hard to keep your racing heart and whole being calm. A taste of some ice cream to make you cool down, yet at the same time kindles flames within you. ~ He'll also be a good boy and offer the 2 some of his. It's only fair that way. ~

Speaking of fairness, we surely got to see some nice examples of that here.

And here, for a bit more, so you won't feel left out in this game with the 2, we know how that gets you feeling. ~

Maybe someday, we can hope to see the three of them sharing fun together, doing hairstyles of each other, matching with lots and lots of things.

Many games with various options of mix and match with the three of them on stage. ☆

Been thinking a lot about Tsukasa's cool hairstyle in here... what gets to me is that he is not the one to style his hair this way in this AU, but rather...

It's his big bro. A really sweet gesture from our beloved big brother! ♡

A head pat and hair stroke turned into giving little bro a fashionable hairstyle. - Tsukasa's hair is so soft and beautiful. Oh, I know! Want big brother to make it even more beautiful than it already is? - ??? sure... if Amane wants. .. and that's how it started.

I will go and say, this thing is canon to me. Thanks for hearing me out. ~

#turning this into a A-T-N styling each other's hair series~#and more #who knows.. maybe it will expand more and more with time ☆#we still need to see Tsu doing Amane's hair for the puzzle of that game to be complete. maybe one day.#💜🩵❤️

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lasswithumor · 2 years ago

Text

LITG S5 MC TAG

thanks for the tag @itsrealityboo @vanaglori-ah @willkimurashat 💖

also tagging: @willkimura @crimswnred @i-boop-you @banirareiko @rebelrayne @mrsgaryrennell @wardingoffevil @justtuesdays @csmicletters @0shewrites0 @bunieboo and anyone else who wants to join!

Name: Hasti Kuryan

Nickname: Has’ or Ti-Ti (friends and family), Angel or Love (Suresh)

Hometown: Camberley, UK

Age: 26

Occupation: Educational Psychologist

Sexuality: Bisexual

Any languages: Bengali, German, Malay, French

Any hidden talents: Self-taught ceramicist

Personality type: ESTP

Ideal outfit: A perfect blend of sophistication and glamour! On weekdays, Hasti wears a casual yet chic look with fitted dress pants or a pencil skirt paired with a stylish blouse or vest. When the weekend comes, she unleashes her fashion creativity and can be seen in satin dresses, corset tops with leather pants, v-neck jumpsuits, etc. Hasti loves to showcase her minimalist tattoos, which are usually covered at work.

How did she meet Suresh?:

Suresh had a jam-packed day with his younger sister’s class session and errands. While rushing around, he unexpectedly encountered Hasti, who proudly praised his sister’s brilliance. Suresh couldn't help but to be mesmerized by Hasti’s sparkling eyes and radiant smile. despite his usual charm, he kept his focus on his sister. However, on other occasions, he would make an excuse to stop by Hasti’s workplace, just to catch a glimpse of her. The chemistry was undeniable, leading suresh to gather the courage to ask Hasti out on a date.

Picture of mc and face claim:

Current mood in the villa:

Latest beach hut confession:

“I’ve got to have the worst luck in love island history…just as I started developing a closer connection with aflie, he randomly suggests that we should give each other space. It doesn’t make my experience here any better when my ex, Suresh, is also trying to make me jealous by cracking on with one of the new girls. *chuckles bitterly* I don’t even remember her name…was it Aloe? Rollo? She’s been giving me mysterious eyes all day! I’d never give someone as cocky as suresh the satisfaction of showing that I’m jealous in the slightest, but it does tug at my confidence a bit. He boasts on and on that I’m his number one, but it’s obvious he’s picking someone else at the next recoupling. I can’t believe that I’ve been naive enough to think suresh is only here for me.”

#love island the game #litg #litg s5 #litg eitv #litg mc #oc: hasti

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vixenpen · 4 years ago

Note

Dabi smut with a teacher. Like in some quirkless au or something (He’s scarless but hella pierced and tatted), he had to pick up kid!Shoto one day and he sees his hot black teacher (Sis got thickness and curves for days, even in simple clothes) So he consistently picks up Shoto (even when he doesn’t have to) just to hit on her and when he finally scores a date with her, he’s at his limit after seeing her in casual wear and how amazing her personality is.

I LOVED this request. I had so much fun writing it and the details were amazing! I hope you enjoy

Hot For Teacher (Dabi x Black Reader) Quirkless AU

“Ah, come on kid,” Dabi sighed, expelling a stream of smoke as he waited at the curb for his baby brother to get out of school.

He rolled down the window to air out the car and watched the stream of middle schoolers burst through the double doors and head to their respective busses or cars.

“Shooo,” Dabi groaned, “where are you? I got shit to do, kid.”

He enjoyed hanging out with his youngest sibling, and he had no problem picking the kid up, but he also had a business to help run. If he didn’t get back to the shop in an hour and a half like he’d promised Hawks, he’d get an earful about responsibility and time management and blah, blah, blah.

He leaned back in the driver seat, deciding to give Shoto another fifteen minutes before he texted the kid.

Just then another wave of kids exited the building, Dabi’s bright blue eyes scanned them before landing on the finest woman he’d ever seen in his life.

Her cream colored silk blouse popped beautifully against her rich brown skin and a pair of slacks hugged her wide hips. Her makeup made her dark eyes sparkle and red lipstick painted her pouty mouth.

Dabi sat up, turquoise eyes running up and down that beautiful body of hers as the sexy teacher strutted past to talk to parents and wave good bye to students. When she turned around, his eyes slid down to the fattest ass he’d ever seen and he licked his lips.

Damn it must be hard as hell for her students to concentrate in class.

She turned again and began walking back towards the school. Fuck! If he didn’t stop gawking he would miss his chance. He couldn’t let that happen.

Holding his cigarette between his lips, Dabi quickly stepped out of the car and took leggy strides to catch up with the teacher.

“Excuse me.”

She turned around, her big dark eyes landing on him. Immediately Dabi knew she was sizing him up and wasn’t impressed. She gave that same disapproving teacher look Fuyumi gave whenever she was put off by someone.

Regardless, he flashed her his most charming smile. He may not be a goody two shoes like these other khaki wearing dads out here, but he knew he looked damn better than any of them.

“Sorry to bother you ma’am. I was just hoping you could help me out.”

“Sure,” she smiled back, showing off a pair of pretty white teeth. “Let’s start with that cigarette. It’s against our school policy to be smoking on the premises so if you could.” She cocked a brow expectantly.

Dabi cocked his own pierced brow back in response, but quickly stubbed out his cigarette on a nearby janitor’s cart and threw it away in the accompanying trash can.

Her smile widened. “Great. Now, how can I help you?”

Dabi chuckled. “Well, ya see, I just got this new phone and cleared out all my old contacts. Ya know, new year, new me and all that,” he shrugged, “anyway, my contacts are pretty empty now. So, I was wondering if I could get yours.”

She let out a little snort of amusement.

“That’s your pick up line? How many Girls have had the misfortune of hearing that one?”

“You’d be the first,” Dabi smirked back. “Figured the usual ‘hey beautiful, what’s your name’ line wouldn’t exactly help me stand out.”

“Trust me, you don’t need help standing out.” She replied, eying him again.

“Then that means I’m ahead of the game, right?” He held out a hand, “I’m Dabi.”

Tentatively, the teacher shook it. “Ms. Y/n.”

“Ms. Y/n, huh...” Dabi repeated slowly, his eyes ran over you with a barely masked longing. “Not ‘Mrs’?”

“Not yet.” You replied.

“How soon are you looking to change that?” Dabi asked, his smirk growing a bit smaller and more intimate.

“Who said I was looking to change it at all?”

“Certainly not me,” he replied, “that’s why I asked. I would love to talk more about how much you don’t want to change it over dinner sometime though.”

You fended off a smile. You were not about to give this over confident asshole any encouragement.

“Sorry, but I make it a point not to date my student’s parents.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a parent then.”

“Oh? So you just like to stroll on the campuses of random middle schools and hit on the teachers for fun?”

Dabi chuckled again.

“I’m here to pick up my little brother. Ah, hell, speaking of which, I actually could use your help with that. Kid hasn’t come out yet and I’ve already been here over half an hour.”

Your pretty face immediately crumpled with worry.

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Todoroki Shoto.”

“Oh!” You looked surprised. “Shoto. I think I saw him headed towards the baseball field. I think the team has practice today.”

“Dammit! Really? Well, I better go say hi to the kid anyway. You mind, uh, leading the way?”

“Sure.” You shrugged.

Turning, you took the lead and guided Dabi towards the baseball diamond behind the school. You could feel the man’s eyes on your ass the whole way, and couldn’t help but put an extra switch in your hips as you did. Much to his appreciation.

You had to admit the man was fine as hell. The black undercut with lines cut in the side, his multiple piercings and even the colorful tattoos you saw peeking from under his fitted black tshirt were hot as hell. However, you had long since given up on bad boy types. You preferred nerds. Still a little light flirting wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

“There he is.” Dabi stated once the two of you verged on the field. He held up his hands to his mouth and called out: “Yo, Sho!”

The boy looked up, heterochromatic eyes widening in surprise.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had practice today you little half and half?”

“Why don’t you ever check mom’s texts?” Shoto shouted back. “She told you to come later.”

You snickered as Dabi pulled out his phone and checked his text messages.

“Huh. Well I’ll be damned.” He muttered to himself. “Alright, kiddo, I’ll be back in an hour!”

“Can you stop shouting and leave now?! I have to concentrate.”

Dabi laughed before turning back to you.

“Anyway, thanks a lot for your help Ms. Y/n.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Still, I would love to thank you properly. Maybe over coffee.” He said, sounding hopeful.

“Before it was dinner.” You quipped, playfully.

“I know. I‘m just planning for future dates.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “It was nice meeting you, Dabi.” With that you turned and strutted off.

“I hope you know I’m gonna keep trying until I get a yes or no.” He called after you.

As you entered the school’s back entrance you could hear Shoto shouting: “Can you please stop hitting on my teachers? I have to see them everyday!”

Unfortunately for Shoto, his plea seemed to go in one overly pierced ear and out the other because almost everyday since then, Dabi made it a point to stop and talk to you when he came to pick up Shoto.

“Hey there, Ms. Y/n. My contacts are filling up fast. You sure you don’t wanna reserve a spot?”

“Sorry Dabi, but my no dating policy extends to immediate family members as well.”

“I hated to cancel our reservations, but you’re left me no choice, Ms. Y/n.”

“Nobody told you to make reservations, Dabi.”

“Dinner was lonely the other day. If only I had a beautiful black queen to keep me company.”

“I’m sure There are plenty of black queens out there that would have loved to accompanying you to dinner.”

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have been you.”

Dabi was unrelenting. Always complimenting how amazing your outfits looked on your skin tone, how flattering your make up was, or if you wore a new hairstyle or new jewelry.

You couldn’t lie. The attention was both flattering and refreshing. Since becoming a teacher, you usually only got hit on by studious academic types. Attractive yes, but straight laced and all the same with their game

Unfortunately a disturbing amount of married dads also tried their luck with you.

But Dabi was different.

He may have been a far cry from your usual type, but he was always perfectly respectful and even funny. Not to mention he was much closer to your own age than other men that came on to you.

He must have started bribing Shoto for help or asking him about your interests too. Because sometimes when he would see you, he’d have a new book to give you or your favorite iced tea from a cafe you always frequented. Which, admittedly, was pretty damn cute.

The tatted up alt boy was actually growing on you. So one day, when both of you least expected it, you finally agreed to give him your number and go on a date.

That was the first time you ever saw him straight up smile. Not smirk or grin. He actually beamed. Just like a little boy who’d been told he could have a puppy.

Ok, ok. You admit it—he was cute.

Hopefully, that charm would extend over to dinner.

When the big date came, Dabi cleaned himself up. Opting out of his usual dark attire for a deep blue fitted Ralph Lauren polo and skinny khakis. He even took out some of his piercings in an attempt to look more presentable. He thought he cleaned up pretty nice if he did say so himself, but it was nothing compared to what you strutted in wearing.

Dabi had gotten used to your stylish but conservative work attire. He was so used to your hot teacher look, that he forgot you probably had some regular clothes in that amazing wardrobe of yours.

And damn did you pick out the most show stopping dress you had. You wore a wine colored dress that cut low in the front showing off those juicy tits of yours and stopped above the knee. The heels you wore made your thighs look even yummier and your ass was jiggling out of control with every step.

Down boy. Down boy. Down boy.

He scolded himself.

“Well, don’t you clean up nicely, Dabi?” You teased.

“I’m Touya tonight, beautiful.” He struck a pose like a GQ model. You laughed. “Dabi was that guy that kept hitting on you, Touya’s the guy that’s gonna try not to screw it up.

“Oh,” you ran a manicured finger along his solid chest, “well, I agreed to a date with Dabi, but I guess Touya could be fun too.”

Dabi licked his lip, and your eyes fell on his tongue piercing, hungrily.

“Depending on how well the night goes, you might see Dabi come out later tonight.” He replied, suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, but could feel your cheeks (and your pussy) warming.

“Boy! Come on.”

Dabi as Touya opened the door to the restaurant and ushered you inside.

The restaurant he took you to was definitely a high end place; complete with soft candle light, a jazz quartet, and a maître d’.

The chemistry the two of you had definitely translated over dinner.

Dabi was just as funny as he always was and he was genuinely interested in getting to know everything about you. He hung on to your every word about the funny things your students did in class. He enjoyed hearing your college stories. He even knew some of the books you enjoyed reading and could talk literature easily.

You discovered that he was the co-owner of a tattoo and piercing shop. He was the oldest of his siblings. And he enjoyed traveling and learning new things.

Dabi enjoyed vibing with you. He loved that your personality and sense of humor was just as amazing and substantial as that body he wanted a piece of so bad.

Dinner rolled into drinks and lasted well into the night. By the time the two of you were done it was damn near four A.M.

From that night on, you and Dabi became practically inseparable. He picked you up from school right along with Shoto for dinner after work, swung by with coffee, bought you any and everything you wanted (he does come from money after all) and after a year of dating, you became more than just a ‘Ms.’

Pt.2

#dabi x black!reader #dabi x reader #flirting #first dates #bnha fluff #my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bnha headcanons #dabi scenarios #touya todoroki #mha headcanons #black writers #curvy reader

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years ago

Text

Made with love | Helmut Zemo

Chef Zemo AU! 👨‍🍳

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 6

You are hereby invited to the grand opening of The Iron Grill. Doors will open at 7PM. Tables are reserved for guests.

See you there.

You look at the intricate invitation in Zemo's hand. Glancing up at him, you bite the inside of your cheek in concern. Helmut was disheveled. He was glaring down at the gold lettering on the card.

You reach out brush his hair back into place the best you could. Your touch causes him to look up at you in silence. His big broken eyes are soft, his lips slightly parted.

"He came to see you, it's only fair you go see him," you say softly. You rest your hand on his cheek, thumb brushing along his cheekbone in gentle motions.

"Will you come with me?" He asks, voice quiet and soft. There was a slight pleading look in his eyes.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

You nod subtly. He tilts his head into your palm ever so slightly. You smile.

Sam excuses himself from the kitchen. When he's gone, Helmut raises his hand to place over yours, taking it in his and lowering it from his face. He takes a step closer to you.

"I need you."

Your gaze flickers between his eyes as he stands in front of you.

"Alright."

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it, before slowly turning around to look at the mess he had made.

You let go of him and step over the mess, kneeling down to start clearing up. He kneels down to, but only to take your hand in his once more, stopping you from picking up anything.

"Don't. I'll deal with this."

You shake your head.

"I want to help. Let me help, Helmut."

He looks at you. He's not going to force you out, and he doesn't want you to leave, not really. He nods and let's go of your hand, gathering things from the floor.

He can't resist teasing you a little, however.

"I thought I told you I have only one name in the kitchen."

You glance up at him.

"Right. Chef."

His lips curl up into a grin. He is looking more like the Helmut Zemo you had come to know.

Both of you tidy the kitchen, Zemo teasing you here and there, while you spent a little bit of time becoming acquainted with hi kitchen.

When you were both done, you head out into the front. A few customers had come in. Zemo and Sam nod at one another. The table that Stark had used was now clear.

Zemo looked at you.

"I shall let you get on with your day. See you tonight?"

"Yes. See you tonight. I'll meet you here?"

He nods.

Helmut stands by the door of his beloved restaurant as you leave, waving at you with a smile as you turn to look at him once more.

This man was head over heels for you.

When you return to the hotel, Wanda is there. She smiles at you as you enter. You can tell by the look on her face that she wants to know everything.

You stand beside her bed, of which she was sitting on, and smile at her.

"Go on, ask."

"How was it?"

You sat down on your bed and looked at her. There was a happy smile on your face, one that lit up your entire expression.

"It was fun."

"Tell me more. I want to know all about your future husband," she grins.

"Wanda!"

"Come on, tell me!"

You sigh softly and look at her.

"I had fun. I really did. We made a paella for Stark. Helmut showed me how to do it. Even let me have a go here and there, though I mostly just handed him the ingredients. It was nice spending so much time with him."

"I hear a but coming."

"Well, kind of. I think he really likes me. He really wants me to move out here. He wants to see me every day. He even offered me job."

"That's good though! He likes you."

"Yeah, it's just a huge ask. Also, we're going to dinner tonight."

"Look at you! Your first date! Or does today count as a date?" She looks deep in thought. You roll your eyes.

"It's not a date! Stark invited Helmut to his restaurant tonight. It's the grand opening. Helmut asked me to go with him."

"That sounds like a date to me," she grins at you.

"It's not a date."

"Still, you have to look nice. Not just for your handsome chef, but also for Stark. I looked him up while you were gone. He's a big deal in America, you know. He has several restaurants across the States. Many small businesses have closed up shop because they couldn't compete with his business," she tells you.

"Don't say that. I can't tell Helmut that! The restaurant is his pride and joy," you say, worried.

"I'm just telling you what I know. Go there tonight, see what the deal is. You never know, it might not take off over here. This is his first restaurant outside of the US."

"His first?"

"Yeah," she confirms.

"I wonder why he chose Sokovia of all places. Don't get me wrong, I love it here, but you would think someone like him would pick a more popular country."

"Yes, you would, wouldn't you?" The look she gives you makes you wonder if she's suspicious about all of this.

"I'll see what happens tonight then."

She nods and stands up.

"We have to get you an outfit. Something that will blow him away," she looks you up and down.

"Stark, or Helmut?"

"Helmut, obviously. We need to make him fall in love with you more."

You just shake your head with a laugh. What would you do without Wanda Maximoff in your life? You would never know.

Wanda took you shopping right then and there.

When evening came around, you stood with Wanda in your hotel room. She smiled at the outfit you had chosen. Nothing too fancy, but something stylish that stood out just enough. It should be enough to catch Helmut's attention, and be enough for Stark's restaurant.

"You look amazing!"

"Thank you!"

You felt amazing. You look at yourself in the mirror once more and then let Wanda basically ban you from the hotel room. You weren't allowed back in until after dinner.

You made your way to Zemo's restaurant. He was stood outside the double doors waiting for you. He was dressed smart, neatly ironed shirt, slacks, loafers that looked brand new. A casual, yet smart, blazer hugging him nicely, just tight enough to define the muscles in his arms.

You forced yourself to look at his face before you got carried away.

He looks so taken back when his eyes land on you. His eyes scan you up and down, stunned by how good you looked.

You smiled, rather shyly because of the way he was looking at you, at him and came to a stop in front of him.

"Hi."

"Hello. You look... wonderful."

"Thank you," you could feel your face getting warm. The way this man can make you feel so shy felt bewildering to you. "You look really good too."

Helmut glances down at his outfit.

"I maybe a little under-dressed compared to you, but we certainly make a fine pair. Shall we?" He offers you his arm.

You nod and take it, both of you walking across the plaza.

"Any idea what might happen tonight?" You ask, taking in the quiet atmosphere around you. Most people had gone home by this point.

"No idea, but I won't stand by and let him insult me or my restaurant again," he says, firmly. You can see the rage flash in his eyes.

"Neither will I, Helmut."

He smiles at you. His smile is always the most dashing thing you've ever seen.

You both make the small walk to The Iron Grill with no trouble at all. It's quite busy outside and you can already tell that alone bothers Zemo. You give his arm a little squeeze and he smiles in return. You both make tour way to the door.

"Invitation?" The man at the door asks.

Helmut holds up the card Stark had left behind for him that morning. The man nods and let's you both in.

The entrance to the restaurant is buzzing just as much as outside. People, all dressed up smartly, were scattered about. You didn't really know where to look.

Stephen Strange spots you both and comes over with ease.

"Good of you to make it."

"Well, it would be rude not to come," Zemo said, biting back anything be actually wanted to say.

"Yes."

Strange led you both over to a table. Zemo stopped Strange from pulling out your chair by doing it himself. You smiled softly at Helmut for that. He sat himself down opposite you, ignoring Stephen.

Strange walked off with a sigh.

"I feel so out of place here," you say, looking around the room.

The restaurant was big. At least 2 dozen tables. The kitchen was visible right at the back, you could see chefs cooking away back there. Strange was acting ad host, guiding people to tables. The ceiling was high up, miniature chandeliers hung evenly around, right above every table. It was fancy, but not overly posh. Classy.

A bit much for a grill house, but Stark clearly had the money for it.

Speaking of, he was no where to be seen.

"Don't worry, I do too. Escorpión Morado is a family business. This is high end business. He's here to make a profit, not to make connections and provide people with comfort and love in the form of food."

You nod, agreeing.

These two were so different from each other.

Three loud claps sounded from the other end of the room. You both turned to look. Tont Stark, wearing an expensive suit, was seeking attention.

You could almost feel the way you wanted to glare at him.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome! This is the grand opening of The Iron Grill! I'm glad to see you all could make it. Many of you have flown far and wide to be here tonight."

You look around the room.

These weren't customers, these were business partners. Now you and Zemo felt even more out of place.

"It's with great pride and pleasure I present to you a taste of my menu."

He claps loudly again. Many carts come barreling out of the kitchen, each being pushed by a waiter or waitress. Each of them were dressed to the nines in carefully designed uniforms.

Whereas back at Escorpión Morado, Zemo's staff were dressed more casually, just wearing aprons with an EM stitched into them delicately.

One such cart comes to a stop next to your table. You glance at Zemo, who meets your gaze. The tall waiter pulls the sheet from over the cart and you a presented with a selection of dishes, all three shelves of the cart full with different colours and flavours.

This was... something.

Another waiter came up to the table and poured you each a glass of champagne. Tony was holding up a glass of his own.

"To The Iron Grill!"

Everyone else cheered, but you just slightly raised your glass with Zemo before taking a sip.

"Bon appetite!"

All the waiters simultaneously pick up the same plate from the cart and place it between you both.

You both take a bite each.

"So, we're here to taste test his menu?" You ask, having absolutely no opinion on what you just ate.

"It would appear so."

"We spent all that time making a paella, something from the heart, only to come here and have taste of his insanely large menu?"

Helmut sighs softly as he puts his fork down.

"It will never work. His menu is too big, no feeling is put into the cooking, everything is too basic. He isn't trying."

You reach put and place a hand on his, which is resting on the table.

"He won't last the year. Your restaurant is everything and more, he can't top that."

The way he smiles at you let's you know they he believes your words. He's thankful you came here with him tonight.

This goes on for hours. It's getting on for 10 PM when he thanks everyone for coming. Zemo pulls out your chair for you, taking your hand in his as you stand. You sigh.

You had tasted all the main courses on the menu, and then you got to choose a dessert to try at the end. Both of you chose something different so could try each others deserts.

Honestly, desert was the best thing on the menu, but that was it.

As you neared the door, Tony stopped you both from leaving.

"Will you wait just a bit longer, I want to talk to you."

Zemo reluctantly agreed.

You all waited for the restaurant to clear out before sitting down again. Stephen joined you all, offering more champagne, but neither you nor Zemo touched the flutes.

"Did you like my menu?"

You and Zemo shared a subtle look, both of you nodded, though you considered it very normal and bland compared to what Helmut serves under his roof.

"Good. We think we'll do quite nicely here. I'm going to cut to the chase, I want to buy your restaurant, use it to expand our empire."

Helmut had never stood up so fast. The bang from his fist hitting the table startled you. He was seething. If looks could kill, Stark would have taken his last breath just now. Zemo's eyes were glaring holes into the other man's skull.

Strange had the audacity to slip a cheque across the table. There were far too many zeros on it.

"No."

"Hear me out-" Stark began.

"No. The answer is no."

You stand up, taking Zemo's other hand in yours. He didn't turn his gaze away from Stark, but his hand did wrap around yours.

You glared at Stark.

"How dare you even say such a thing."

Tony didn't look at you, keeping his gaze locked on Helmut. However, he did hold up a finger at you.

"I'm not talking to you."

Helmut was going to say more, but Stark spoke first.

"I'm offering to buy your restaurant here and now before you go bankrupt due to lack of business. If I buy your restaurant, you can keep your job and your staff. However, the whole place will be remodeled in the image of The Iron Grill and I would own the building."

You scoff.

"How dare you!"

"Again, not talking to you," Stark glanced at you this time.

"No! I'm not just going to stand here and let you insult him further. You cannot have Escorpión Morado, it belongs to Helmut. It was his father's business, passed down to him, and you're just going to remodel it? Do you not care about it's history, it's importance? You have the audacity to invite us here and say this? I cannot believe you! You may be a big shot billionaire, but there are things more important than money."

You failed to notice the way Helmut had turned to look at you as you went off on your passionate speech. His eyes had softened, his lips curled up ever so slightly at the corners.

Gosh, he was so in love with you.

You were standing up for him, for all he had left. How did he get so lucky to meet you?

"Fine, but you'll see."

Stark picks up the cheque and pockets it, not once looking away from Zemo who was still looking at you.

You give a tug to Zemo's hand, he smiles as he follows you out, both of you done here.

Helmut didn't look back, unable to look away from you. Once you were back pit on the street, only then did you turn back to Helmut. You couldn't help smiling at the way he was looking at you.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're amazing," he grins.

"Don't be silly."

"I'm not. I mean it. The way you defended me, my restaurant, my heart could burst with joy."

"I only said the truth. He can't have Escorpión Morado, don't give it to him!"

"Over my dead body."

"Don't say that!" You stand in front of him, frowning at him.

Helmut just chuckles softly and let's go of your hands to place his on your face. He holds you gently, just looking at you with a goofy smile.

"Stark will not have my restaurant. Not if I can help it. You'll see, his very own will fail within the year."

"I believe you," you say, softly.

"Stay."

"Helmut..."

"Stay, please."

"I can't."

His dark brown eyes flicker between yours with a pleading gaze. He was so desperate to keep you here beside him, to keep you in his life.

But you had to leave.

He needed to give you a reason to stay. A reason so big that, even when you go home, you'll never forget it.

He kisses you.

He's quick and swift in kissing you. Your mind blanks as all you can feel are his lips on yours, his hands on your face.

You're kissing him back.

You just melt. You give in. You want it.

You can't bring yourself to stop him.

You're utterly in love with him and now he knows it. He can feel it. Just like how you can feel his love for you.

He was a reason to stay.

He pulls away, but does not move his hands. He gives a goofy smile as he looks at you.

"Stay."

All you can do is smile at him.

@namethathasnotbeentaken @belle82devart @cathrin2405 @lieutenantn @wilder-fangirl @latenightartist-author @lucky-luck-lucky @hb8301 @charistory @thatoneartgalsstuff @thesuitkovian @malkaviangirl @zemosimp420 @realremyd @the-chaotic-cow @lostghostgirl94 @zafiro-draco @lazygurl05 @pinkcutiepiee @goddessofmischief03 @whovianayesha @myybebe @awesomesauce-abbie @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @zemo-is-my-muse @nonamec0s @apparrio @scuttle-buttle @alex-the-nb @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @greeneyedblondie44

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #marvel #au #chef zemo au

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betweentheracks · 4 years ago

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We*bo Night Style Review

The following is my insight and perception as a professional stylist and is subjective to my position and role.

Long post is long.

Starting from the first I saw, I will address Yibo's blue Chanel number. This look pulls directly from Chanel's Spring 2021 Ready-to-Wear line. It is paired with Jimmy Choo Mocca loafers and a beret which has a badge on it bearing "my own private planet" on it. This is a cute accessory for the The Little Prince homage alone. I won’t go into how fitting it is for Yibo to pull from this beloved book as it would make this post needlessly gushy and too long, just know that I have had loud feelings about it all day.

Honestly, I was underwhelmed upon first impression when I saw this fit. Setting aside my own personal dislike of Chanel, the overall feel of this look didn't catch nor meet what I would have expected to see. It held a cute air of youth to it and played upon the boyish charm Yibo simply cannot be rid of thanks to his facial structure and features. It is jarring for me to write about Chanel in conjunction to "youthful, boyish charms" as Chanel caters near exclusively to women with deep pockets that enjoy looking as if they corner the ideal of being a Stepford Wife, no matter the age.

However, Yibo has always successfully turned Chanel's overt "Emily Gilmore" aesthetic on its head and has singlehandedly returned Chanel to being in the ranks of fashion which are aimed at younger to middle range adults. Tonight is no exception to this as he did look wonderful. The accessories and the shirt are all also Chanel and initially debuted in as an ensemble when this Spring 2021 Ready-to-Wear line was trotted out at the end of last year. In my opinion as a professional and critical eye, Yibo wore this look better than the original model. The way his hair stylist did his hair with micro extensions and false locks to give him that additional length and furthering the ideal of youthful leisure really made this style snap off.

Some notes on the pieces in play:

This is not the first time Yibo has worn this specific collection of Chanel’s. His styles from Tencent Star Awards were also from this range.

This collection was inspired by actresses of the vintage screen. Virginie Viard has commented that she wanted to capture the duality of modern actress lifestyles - high production value and quality of the red carpet service styles, to the staged nuance of being off screen and therefore off duty while waiting in line for coffee - framed by classic lines of the bygone Hollywood era. Yibo specifically seems drawn to the separates-based mix of the set, which were all styled from the draw of the 1980s - hence the shoulder pads and candy colors of pink and now blue. I feel it is worth mentioning that when this line debuted the runway many comments flew about how the collection felt very reminiscent of looking at Regina George inspired couture. Mean Girls, but make it Wang Yibo.

The mini purse around his waist is actually a necklace, not a belt.

He is wearing the Coco Crush ring. This item is peak comfort item material as he seems incredibly keen on wearing it whenever possible and is unabashed to have it called to attention. There is a story behind this ring, of this my professional chimes are ringing loudly in certainty.

My impression of this style changed drastically the more I looked at it and marveled at the almost pale vulnerability the look managed to pluck upon. The color is flattering despite it being candy-bright and almost too pigmented to think of as a functional red carpet choice. Also, I strongly suspect the play here was to highlight the duality of Yibo himself since the style he served up immediately after this completely overwhelms the fawning spring of this style.

Wang Yibo 2.0

This second look features Fendi, Patek Philippe, and Louboutin. The blazer is a Fendi black wool piece and the shirt, also Fendi, is from their lovely Spring/Summer 2021 collection. The watch is Patek Philippe and further showcases Yibo’s taste for expensive and bold watches and it’s actually incredibly admirable for him to use watches as an accessory which seals the deal on an ensemble. There aren’t many that can pull this off due to how often watches remain hidden by the cuffs and sleeves of jackets and shirts and therefore go unnoticed or are seen as bulky obstructions and are being slowly and steadily phased out from being considered staples of style. Of course the shoes are Louboutin, which is just a nice choice no matter what. Solid footwear; sleek and stylish no matter what.

If I was initially underwhelmed by the previous fashion choice then this look did more than simply overwhelm me; it devastated me and left me gaping. The! Hair! The black on black silhouette! The way he flawlessly transitioned from being youthfully boyish and bursting with charm to a domineering presence of matured angles and sharp zeal!! Wang Yibo with an undercut and draped in matte black Fendi is enough to score through my bingo card of styles I was unprepared for and yet thankfully blessed by.

Some notes on the pieces in play:

While the Fendi blazer isn’t altogether spectacular and one of their more run of the mill items, the shirt beneath and the collection it was pulled from are interesting. The Spring/Summer 2021 Fendi line caters to the celebration of love and the surreal intensity of what a domestic experience quarantine and lockdown was like. The menswear was notably designed as “boardroom to boudoir” meaning that the concept was embellished loose linens which could be tucked into a business or formal setting only to later be tugged free and worn sweetly casual, bordering intimate.

This is the shirt in it’s full glory. It isn’t something you would expect to be expertly tucked into the slim lines of Yibo’s stature and one can imagine how it must appear when it left to fall loose around his lean frame. It is a bed shirt in essence and was utilized in such a way that it looks like an entirely new garment on him.

And now we move along to Xiao Zhan and his timeless and classic style.

A man of brand/designer solidarity, he is decked from head to toe in Gucci. I won a bet on this as I wagered he would absolutely be in his chosen favorite. The brooch is another staple in his fashion repertoire and is a Tiffany & Co. item.

He appears very timeless in these classic and clean lines. This is a straight fit wool suit which Gucci favors in tailoring to accentuate slim and tall builds and as such drapes over Zhan’s body as if it were an extension of his body itself. The fit is that perfect. He strikes me as looking very refined and noble in this suit; mature and aloof.

Some notes on the pieces in play:

Gucci has a reputation for constantly improving the way they tailor suits and as such this “relaxed straight fit” is exclusive to their label. Any other fashion house has slim fits, which are the original frame for this style, but entirely different in how Gucci has renovated the way it all fits and hangs. They alter jackets to be comfortably loose along the back of the neck while remaining pleasantly tucked to accentuate the lines of the shoulders, arms, and chest. The pants are brought in at the waist to make slim appear sleek, and the fall straight through the legs to provide the air of being relaxed.

The brooch he is wearing, “Four Leaves” by Jean Schlumberger via Tiffany & Co, is an antique item as Schlumberger was alive from 1907 to 1987. Schlumberger is only one of four designers ever given allowance to sign their work to Tiffany & Co. He created the collection the “Four Leaves” brooch hails from at behest of a friend and fellow admirer of nature’s glory, Rachel “Bunny” Mellon. The irony of Xiao Zhan, resident rabbit, wearing a piece created on the request of someone called Bunny is not lost to me and hopefully not any of you now that I’ve made mention of it.

The gemstone in the brooch is blue-green tourmaline. Tourmaline has many different correspondences depending on the color at hand. Blue-green rouses luck and success and is often used to manifest goals, notably of a creative nature. It is also a crystal of peace and encourages the release of past hurts by bringing them to the surface to be healed via honest and heartfelt communication. Tourmaline can evolve as it is worn and will adhere to the wearer’s conviction, rousing the idea of living a life of integrity and accountability; inviting the wearer to accept any perceived flaws and weaknesses with easy tolerance. I am making this mention because every bit of this seems so incredibly in line with where Xiao Zhan is in life and in his career, especially in light of what he so graciously said on we*bo yesterday as we made it to a year since hell came for him. I am always very moved by this man.

Here is the brooch just so you can have a proper look:

And that’s a wrap on We*bo Night’s lookbook!

This is a bit of a messy post and I do apologize for that, but nevertheless I hope it was enjoyable and gave you some new insights on the way fashion fits together at every turn.

#racks chats #weibo night #wang yibo #xiao zhan #style #styling #fashion deconstruction

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penguintransporter · 3 years ago

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Tiny Clouds (Serge Gnabry oneshot)

You need to ban me from here 😂 I don’t know if it’s the fact that I am on my holidays, or if it’s my mum’s homecooked food, but I have been writing and updating more than ever before. Anyway, you should all thank @disneydaddyevans for giving me the idea to write this little piece that is so cheesy, but I couldn’t help myself. Inspired by his fashion sense and the overall cuteness that the man oozes. Read, heart, reblog, and tell me what you think about it. Also, I wasn’t sure if I should use to name for my OC or just “Y/N”, so I stuck with the way I usually write.

“Max… Max—Maximillian,” Dolores hissed quietly, stopping dead in her tracks, barely fifty meters away from where they were heading. “That,” she pointed her index finger at the outside of the Museum of Urban and Contemporary Art with a horror-stricken face, “it doesn’t look like a regular exhibition opening. Look at all the press. Are you sure they will let me come in wearing this?”

“There is nothing wrong with your outfit, Lola,” her friend replied, using her nickname – a deep chuckle escaping his throat. She couldn’t help but glance down at her attire, narrowing her eyes at the worn-out jeans and a woolly pullover she had knitted for herself, some two years ago. It was already losing its shape and growing lint on several spots.

When Maximilian asked if she would like to join him for an exhibition opening, Lola agreed without thinking twice, not expecting to be thrown into the middle of what seemed to be a huge media fuss. If she was being frank, she could have googled what the exhibition was about or what the artist’s name was, but with her long shifts at work and three papers due for her night courses at the university, Lola completely forgot to do so.

“If you say so,” she mumbled back, glancing once again at her outfit – eyes narrowing at the stubborn stain on her Converse high-tops. For a moment she contemplated licking her thumb and trying to rub the dark spot away, but she decided against it once she realised that it was highly unhygienic and probably a very weird thing to do in front of all the people that mingled around her.

It wasn’t like she hated or didn’t like fashion – on contrary, she thought it was fun, but Lola found comfort in being practical rather than being stylish, and the older she got, the more overwhelmed she felt with the fast pace of fashion and trends in general. There were too many terms, too many weird combinations being pushed in the foreground, so she decided that it would be the best for her if she stood on the sidelines of it all like a spectator rather than participant.

“I am being honest,” Max added as she caught up with him and they slowly made their way towards the entrance – camera flashes that tried to capture very important people hurting Lola’s eyes. “Moreover, I think that jumper is incredibly cute with its tiny clouds. Or are those sheep?” Max asked, grinning down at her as he adjusted the collar on his trench-coat.

“Tiny clouds,” Lola remarked, “better than your Inspector Gadget coat though, if you ask me,” she joked back, making her friend laugh out loud before he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the crowd.

The main exhibition room wasn’t as packed as Lola had expected it to be, and once they were ushered inside by an artist friend of Max, they made their way around it - slow-paced and without any rush or pressure. They stopped ever so often to read the description, comment or even chuckle on some of the art pieces that they didn’t find very interesting.

Lola had visited the museum only a handful of times before this, but whenever she was here she enjoyed the look and feel of it. From the minimalistic approach to the main rooms and furniture, to the small and narrow hallways that led to different rooms with unique art exhibitions and graffiti on the wall.

“Maximilian!” a deep, mature voice called out from across the large room, and Lola reflexively turned her head in the direction of it before seeing a tall and a lanky man in a pressed suit trousers and white button down striding towards them. She could vaguely recognise his face as one of Max’s artist friends, but she couldn’t remember his name. “Maximilian,” he repeated as he stepped closer, blocking Lola’s view of the art installation in front of them, forcing her to look away from it, “there is someone I want you to meet,” he breathed out as both, Max and Lola curiously peered at him. “He doesn’t have a lot of time, but he plays for your favourite team, so I thought you’d be happy to meet him.”

“Maximilian, this is Serge. Serge, this is Maximilian, and…,” the artist friend trailed off, looking down at Lola with an awkward smile, “sorry dear, but I don’t remember your name.”

Lola smiled back nervously, shifting on her feet a little. “Dolores,” she answered, looking first at the man in front of her before glancing at the good-looking athlete only to find him looking back at her curiously, “or Lola for short. Nice to meet you.”

“It’s lovely to meet both of you,” Serge replied politely, sticking both of his hands in the pockets of his wide trousers, and Lola couldn’t help but glance at his well-put outfit that looked very expensive and taken care of. “Are you an artist too?” Serge asked looking in Maximillian’s direction.

“No, no,” Max replied, mimicking Serge’s posture, “just enthusiast. By the way, great season with the team...”

Next to them, Lola was wringing the exhibition brochure she picked up on the entrance in her sweaty palms - bits of the paper sticking to her skin. She wasn’t shy or easily intimidated by other people, but there was something about being in the crowd that made one stick out like a sore thumb with her outfit. It was turning her into a nervous wreck even if she didn’t want that.

Having Serge Gnabry in front of her didn’t help either.

“And what about you, Lola?”

Lola felt her heartbeat quicken at the sound of Serge’s voice saying her name, and when she looked up at him, slightly confused, he had a gentle smile on his face, patiently waiting for her answer. His brown eyes were focused on her face and her eyes, and she suddenly felt at loss of words.

“Lola is not an artist either, but an avid knitter instead,” Max interjected with a grin, and Lola looked away from Serge’s eyes and up at her friend – her eyes narrowing a little. “She’s once knitted an entire winter scarf on her way to Hamburg,” he added as Lola felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but she managed to push it away casually.

“It was a nice scarf, though,” Lola sheepishly smiled, feeling the insides of her stomach flip excitedly when Serge chuckled before the silence fell upon the three of them. To keep her thoughts straight, she looked down at her smudged Converse, knowing that Serge probably waited for her to elaborate or keep the conversation going. The only problem was that her mind was blank, her palms sweaty, and all the words she wanted to say seemed to be stuck inside her throat. “I real—really enjoy knitti—,”

“—Serge!” a middle-aged woman wearing a shapeless dress and thick, white-rimmed glasses approached them in a hurry, interrupting Lola in the middle of her sentence. “We have Thibaut from Revver magazine outside. It would be lovely if you could just answer few questions for him.” The woman sent an apologetic smile towards Lola, and Lola only smiled back weakly, not really knowing what else to do.

She looked away to mask her disappointed for ruining her chance of talking to Serge, not noticing the lingering gaze he gave her before he walked away.

An hour into the evening, Lola found herself walking along one of the walls covered in graffiti on her own after Max excused himself to go outside for a “much needed smoke”. Rather than just standing alone and waiting for her friend to come back, Lola continued to walk along the painted walls before seeing another room that was adjacent to the main room, and which seemed to be empty.

Smiling at the several people who quietly talked among themselves outside, Lola pushed her way inside, quickly being mesmerized by the colours and style of the art that occupied the tiny space she was in. It was a collection of the tall yet narrow murals – each one describing a different story that captivated Lola’s curiosity, and she found herself forgetting about the time.

“You don’t like to talk much, do you?”

Lola looked in the direction of the voice before shyly smiling once she realised it was Serge who stood behind her. Quickly, she looked away, feeling her cheeks redden at his words. He moved closer, stepping mere few meters away from her before interlacing his fingers behind his back as he observed the same mural as she did – his lips curled into small smile.

Lola breathed out a short breath before opening her mouth to speak. “It’s actually difficult to shut me up once I get started, but I easily get intimidated around people who…,” she trailed off, unsure in how to phrase her ridiculous insecurities, “nevermind,” she finished, glancing towards Serge for a brief second.

“Are you intimidated by flesh and blood, Lola?” he asked before stopping for a second, “That’s your name, right?”

She nodded, stepping closer to the wall, reaching out to touch it, as if that would help her figure out what kind of materials did they use for it.

“Flesh and blood in trendy, expensive clothes. I will be honest with you,” Lola shook her head a little, pointing at the large museum room where the actual exhibition was presented, “I felt so out of place over there, so I came here.”

“Well, maybe they are expensive,” Serge commented with an amused smirk, “but how many of us are actually wearing a knitted pullover we made ourselves. That’s the real style, if you ask me.”

Lola felt the warmth evade her face yet again as she moved away from the wall, straightening her back and looking at him. “How do you know I knitted it?”

“Pure guess,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “Did I guess right?”

“Yeah,” Lola admitted, “And these are tiny clouds, by the way, not sheep,” she quickly added making Serge chuckle a little. “It’s the confidence and courage,” she muttered, and Serge muttered a small ‘mhmm’, urging her to continue. “I wish I had the courage to experiment a bit more. For example, I like what you are wearing. It’s very,” Lola stopped for a moment, thinking of the word to use for his immaculate outfit, “…fashionable.”

Serge laughed a little at her words, and she curiously peered up at him, waiting for him to speak.

“I don’t think there is anything wrong with what you are wearing,” he responded, looking down at her, “but here…” he trailed off as he turned around to face her before untying the neckerchief he was wearing around his neck and holding it out for her. “May I?” he asked, taking a step closer, and Lola felt her heart start beating faster because of his proximity but she nodded slowly. Serge nodded as well before putting the scarf around her neck, tying it in a loose knot. “There you go,” he mumbled.

Lola smiled, looking down at his hands as he adjusted the ends of the scarf, folding them so that they sat nicely against the curve of her neck.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, touching the neckerchief with her fingers – the silky material soft against her skin.

“Now you’re wearing something fashionable,” Serge commented, emphasizing the word ‘fashionable’ with air-quotes.

“Fashionable, I guess,” Lola smirked, “but you should take it back. It feels so wrong to wear it,” she added with a small and nervous laugh.

“Wear it tonight, and you can give it back to me some other time,” Serge replied, sticking his hands in the pockets of his loose trousers, turning around so that he was facing the wall again. “That’s if you want to meet up, of course.”

Lola was quiet for a moment, trying to stop the butterflies in her stomach from going crazy, but she couldn’t stop the smile that made its way on her face.

“I do,” she answered, moving so that she was standing next to him – her eyes trying to focus on the tiny details on the mural. “I do want to meet up.”

They stood next to each other in silence for a few seconds – neither of them looking away from the wall. “Friday maybe? Sunday afternoon works too. We don’t have to dress up.”

“Friday works for me,” Lola answered, “but if we wait on Sunday you might get a pair of knitted mittens as a thank you gift for making me look,” she stopped to raise her hands in air-quotes, “fashionable.”

“Only if they come with tiny clouds,” he stated, looking at her at the same time as she looked up at him.

“If you want,”

Serge nodded – his eyes never leaving hers. “Then it’s Sunday afternoon.”

“It is,” Lola nodded.

“Perfect.”

Thank you for reading, and this really needs some editing. I apologise.

#serge gnabry #bayern munich #football fanfic #football fanfiction #football imagine #serge gnabry imagine #serge gnabry fanfiction #football oneshot #bayern munich fanfiction #german nt

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alwaysmychoices · 3 years ago

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Retirement Talks

Synopsis: Charlie decides to return to Edenbrook to meet Kyra for lunch, but little did she know that a scandal has rocked the hospital. During lunch, secrets on all sides are revealed - some of which make Charlie question if she should leave medicine altogether.

Chapter 25 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 5.8k

Rating: Teen

Also available on AO3 & Wattpad (link in Masterlist)

Charlie was back in Edenbrook.

Not by her own desire, of course.

It was her therapist’s idea. She thought visiting Edenbrook would help Charlie so she could see it without the looming threat of a bioterrorist attack or meeting Ethan’s estranged mother. Her therapist hoped that it would ease Charlie’s anxiety and show her that Edenbrook really was just a building at the end of the day.

Not some evil place full of death and destruction. Even if it housed her most painful memories, those were just memories. She couldn’t fault the building itself.

She needed to stop fearing Edenbrook. If she didn’t, she could never return to Edenbrook.

Those were easy things to say – very appealing in its rationality.

But if it was just a building, it was a building haunted. The halls were lined with ghosts of memories long gone, seemingly forgotten by all but Charlie. All the hope and innocence she saw on her first day was replaced with stinging bitterness. She was afraid of what Edenbrook would take from her next.

She didn’t want to be here.

She probably would have left if she hadn’t made lunch plans with Kyra – who, of course, was late.

It had already been fifteen minutes since they’d initially planned to meet, and Charlie saw no sign of Kyra showing up any time soon. Charlie initially waited in the lobby, but after a text from Kyra that said she was stuck in an emergency staff meeting, Charlie moved to Kyra’s office to wait in privacy.

It was easier to wait there. Charlie had very few memories in the administrative wing of the hospital – even fewer negative ones. There were also fewer onlookers in Kyra’s office, and Charlie didn’t want to be stared at. Besides, Kyra kept snacks in her desk, and Charlie was starving.

This wasn’t the first time Charlie had stolen from Kyra’s snack drawer, so when she walked in, she knew exactly where it was. A few months ago, lunches like these were regular occurrences. Then secrets – primarily Charlie’s relationship with Ethan – started to separate her from her friends, little by little. Most of her spare time was taken from her friends and immediately dedicated to the intoxicating and less than honorable pursuit of falling in love with Ethan Ramsey.

Charlie had been lying for a very long time.

Two months of her relationship – almost three. Even longer if she counted the build-up.

Her friends allowed it. She wasn’t sure why, but as she stole a Twizzler from Kyra’s desk, she had the distinct feeling that she didn’t deserve it.

Just before Charlie could lose herself in the depths of guilt and a dizzying inner monologue, her companion finally appeared.

20 minutes late, not that Charlie or her grumbling stomach were counting.

“Twizzlers, thank God,” Kyra skipped the pleasantries, instead making a beeline for her friend and the snacks in her hands. Kyra took a handful from the snack drawer and waited until she’d chewed through at least one before turning to Charlie.

Kyra looked amazing.

Particularly for being on death’s door only a month earlier.

Charlie wished she had been there for more of the recovery. After finding out Kyra survived the surgery, they had an emotional moment, and they frequented each other’s room in the hospital. But after the memorial service, Charlie and Ethan left town, and Charlie struggled once she returned to Boston.

During that time, Charlie visited Raf and Kyra. Sometimes, seeing them was the only time she left her apartment. But Kyra was the strongest of all of them – to no one’s particular surprise. Kyra returned to work within only a few weeks, and with Raf and Kyra still on leave, they primarily heard from her via text or rambling phone calls where Kyra shared hospital gossip they didn’t understand.

Looking at Kyra and Charlie, you could tell that one of them almost died, but you’d think it was Charlie, not Kyra. Kyra was stylish and trendy with high heels, a freshly shaved head, and a new series of gold ear piercings to celebrate her successful surgery. She oozed effortless coolness and accentuated it with a devilish smile everyone adored.

Charlie, on the other hand, hadn’t bounced back so smoothly. She’d dressed for the snow by picking up a pair of jeans she hadn’t washed in over a week, and coupled with her anxious expression, her style that usually read as classic and laidback seemed boring and stiff.

Or at least that was what Charlie felt like in comparison.

“Everything okay?” Charlie asked, claiming another Twizzler for herself as she settled comfortably on the edge of Kyra’s desk.

“Just the hospital freaking out,” Kyra grumbled, digging through her snack drawer for something else. She didn’t seem satisfied with any of her options, so she settled on a pack of fruit gummies from the bottom of the drawer.

“About what?” Charlie’s interest was piqued, though she tried to keep her tone casual. After staying home for so long, she couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“Another crisis,” Kyra evaded her, “Which isn’t helping the dire financial straits the hospital was already in.”

“Oh… Are you sure you can still get lunch today?”

“Are you kidding!” Kyra’s eyes widened as if horrified by the idea of a cancellation, “After all that, I need lunch. Let’s get out of the hospital and actually go somewhere good.”

Kyra wanted to get Charlie out of the hospital. Something about her eagerness to do made Charlie suspicious but not enough so that she would push it further. She was so eager to leave – despite her therapist’s suggestions – that she quickly accepted the proposal.

“Sounds perfect,” Charlie agreed.

After only a few moments of discussion, they decided to go to a restaurant within walking distance. Despite its close proximity, it was unpopular with Edenbrook workers because it was notorious for slow service, a recipe for disaster for short lunch breaks. Charlie, who had nowhere else to be for the rest of the day, didn’t mind. Kyra, who regularly extended her break beyond its limit, suggested it on purpose so she could avoid their coworkers.

As they walked to the restaurant, Kyra silently lamented she’d brought Charlie to Edenbrook on the worst day possible.

But she smiled and kept it to herself.

When they took their seats, Kyra started her usual game of looking for the craziest thing on the menu and deciding she should get it just so she could live a little. She inspired Charlie to order something a little more adventurous than the basic chicken sandwich she’d been eyeing when they first walked in.

After they ordered, Kyra was smiling.

“What?” Charlie asked, “The chicken won’t be that spicy,” she felt the need to defend her order, assuming her friend was judging her hot chicken and waffles – an impulsive choice on Charlie’s part but familiar enough that she was comfortable with it.

“Not that,” Kyra rolled her eyes dramatically, still grinning though, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Charlie smiled back – genuinely.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Kyra shook her head as if shocked by their recent time apart.

“I know… I haven’t been around much,” Charlie admitted sheepishly, reaching for her water as if she could hide behind the glass.

She didn’t need to feel embarrassed about needing time after the attack to heal. But that wasn’t really what she was embarrassed about. It was the weeks of lying and hiding that preceded it.

“I’ve heard,” Kyra smirked softly into her drink.

“You’ve heard?” Charlie repeated, her heart rate spiking just a bit.

“I mean, even before everything happened, you were getting hard to find. And then, after the attack, you’re entitled to space, but…” Kyra smirked like she knew some grand secret, and Charlie’s stomach flipped. “Honestly, all of your roommates wonder where you are but are too polite to ask because of all you’ve been through.”

Charlie’s face fell.

Shit.

She should’ve known. Of course, they’d eventually put it together that she was often gone and frequently spent nights away, but she didn’t realize they were talking about it.

Charlie swallowed hard, and Kyra took that as her sign to continue.

“At first, they thought you were seeing someone casually and didn’t want to tell anyone after what happened with Raf, but then they thought they would have come around after the attack. For a little while, they thought you were with Raf and had secretly united after he broke up with his girlfriend because you guys were suddenly getting along again,” Kyra explained, watching as Charlie’s blanched with shock, “And he explained your absences a lot of the time, but he denied being your boyfriend, by the way. So, if you are having a secret love affair, you should know that your boyfriend denies it.”

“And do you guys still think I’m with Raf?” Charlie couldn’t believe there had been this much discourse about her absence. How many theories had they gone through?

“No,” Kyra shook her head, “You guys don’t act like a couple when you’re together. Plus, there’s no real reason to keep it a secret.”

Right…

Charlie was amazed Rafael hadn’t told her about all the gossip, but he was probably just trying to protect her from it.

“You guys aren’t, are you?” Kyra asked, just to be sure.

“No, definitely not,” Charlie insisted forcefully enough that Kyra was satisfied she was telling the truth.

“Good,” Kyra grinned in relief, “I already made a bet with Elijah that you two weren’t together, so he owes he me $20 now.”

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh.

Still, her curiosity burned.

“So, what are the other theories?”

Kyra raised an eyebrow, surprised Charlie was digging into it more. Clearly, something was there if she was this curious.

“Some are better than others. Aurora thought you might have a secret apartment to be by yourself. Sienna thinks you’re just going around to different supporters like Dr. Banerji when you need them. She usually thinks you’re at his cabin when you’re away. Bryce likes to joke that you’re out at bars on the prowl for a new boy toy,” Kyra winked with a laugh, “And then there’s this really funny one we came up with at Donahue’s, but it’s probably not true.”

“What is it?” Charlie pushed.

Kyra blushed. She was embarrassed to tell her how crazy their conspiracies had become.

“Well… it’s just that Dr. Ramsey’s been really supportive and protective since the attack. And we all saw how devastated he was right after. Plus, he’s the one who took you to Dr. Banerji’s cabin,” Kyra began, but the way she spoke made it clear she thought it was unlikely.

But she was right.

“After everything that happened with you last year, I know that you probably wouldn’t even give him the time of day, especially since you’d started dating other people right before you got sick. But… we thought you and Dr. Ramsey were, you know, together.”

Kyra expected an emphatic rebuttal or an amused laugh. Instead, Charlie stared.

“You weren’t, right?” Kyra laughed, waiting for her expected response.

“Um…” Charlie hesitated.

She wondered if she should keep lying.

But she couldn’t fathom it, not anymore.

“I was, actually,” Charlie said it casually, like it wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation that she had reunited with the man who broke her heart last spring.

Kyra was stunned to silence.

So stunned that she hardly noticed the waitress deliver their meals. Charlie thanked her on behalf of both of them.

Charlie waited for Kyra to do something.

Literally anything.

But she was just staring.

“We were actually together before the attack, though,” Charlie spoke up, trying to fill the silence. She kept her tone nonchalant in hopes it would keep the conversation that way, reducing the impact of her truth, “About a month. Not including the back and forth preceding it, where we slept together a few times.”

Kyra’s eyes widened more and more until they couldn’t possibly get wider.

“I thought you liked David! Didn’t you go out with him to get over Ethan?” Kyra asked, having set up them up just so Charlie could stop crushing on her boss.

“I did like him! But… I only saw him once. And I actually cut that date short because Ethan called me drunk, and I wanted to check on him,” Charlie admitted sheepishly.

“And that’s when you decided to be with Ethan?”

“No,” Charlie averted her eyes, “It was about a week later, I think. We, um… we had sex in Ethan’s office. We didn’t mean to do that, but as you already know, it wasn’t the first time. So, Ethan suggested that we start an actual relationship. I said no initially, but the next day, I said yes.”

“You’re in a relationship?”

“Oh… yeah,” Charlie winced, realizing her friend thought they were just sleeping together.

“How serious?”

“Like we’ve met each other’s parents, and we regularly say, ‘I love you’ serious,” Charlie’s voice got higher as she spoke until she was almost squeaking.

This was crazy. She’d been having a secret relationship – and not the kind where you text someone and show up at their door. She’d been building something meaningful with Ethan. She loved Ethan. She truly wanted to spend the rest of her life with Ethan, and along the way, she’d forgotten that her friends had no idea.

“Holy. Shit,” Kyra’s jaw dropped, and she leaned in close, “Tell me everything.”

She was smiling, and Charlie let out a deep sigh of relief.

So, Charlie told her.

Their promise to have a one-night stand. The way they pulled away and always came back. Her first date with David and the night she spent with Ethan. The morning where they shared breakfast and became friends again. The night in Ethan’s office where he offered a relationship and her teary acceptance the next night. The first time they said I love you. The way he helped put her back together after the attack. Their fight about her returning to Edenbrook. Everything.

Kyra was enthralled.

She asked more questions.

Most of which involved how Ethan was in bed. The others questioned how such an asshole could be a good boyfriend. And most importantly, why they’d kept it a secret.

On that front, Charlie didn’t have a great answer.

It was obvious why they kept it a secret from most of the hospital. The hospital didn’t approve of interdepartmental relationships, particularly if one party was a superior. It could jeopardize her place on the Diagnostics Unit, and rumors of sleeping to the top could damage her career permanently.

But why she didn’t tell her friends?

At first, just to keep the secret from spreading and maybe because she thought they’d think it was a terrible decision. Then… as time went on, it was just harder to share.

Though disappointed with Charlie’s lack of an answer, Kyra loved the conversation.

A few months ago, she’d strongly urged Charlie to stay away from Ethan, convinced he could only hurt her if they got any closer. But now that Ethan had seemingly proved himself, Kyra was eager to hear everything.

The rest of lunch was spent dishing on Charlie’s secret relationship and gossiping about the fabulous men – and the gorgeous woman – Kyra had been casually seeing in the last few weeks. Out of all of them, the only one who came close to acting like a partner was ironically Bryce – the only one she wasn’t sleeping with. Charlie, as always, encouraged Kyra to ask Bryce out and act on their perpetual flirting. Kyra just waved off the suggestion.

It wasn’t until the end of the meal that the conversation naturally drifted back to the financial state of Edenbrook and the resulting long hours Kyra had been working.

Kyra forgot why she didn’t bring it up earlier. She forgot that, as much as she loved Charlie, certain topics were still of limits. Something about the conversation made Kyra feel safe and comfortable – like she was catching up with an old friend, not protecting her from a hospital tragedy.

“I didn’t realize things were that bad,” Charlie confessed, signing her name on the check as they collected their things to leave.

“The whole thing’s on the verge of collapse,” Kyra sighed, “We’re trying everything –even begging our donor list to the point where they hate us. And things are going to get so much worse after today…”

“Today? What happened today?” Charlie asked curiously. Kyra, who had just looped her arm through Charlie’s, stilled as she realized her mistake.

“Just a little crisis. Nothing we can’t handle,” Kyra murmured casually.

“Is that why you had the emergency meeting?” Charlie prodded innocently, unaware of the change in her friend.

“Mmmhmm,” Kyra hummed avoidantly.

“Well… What was it?” Charlie asked again, growing more intrigued by the minute, “There hasn’t been an emergency admin meeting since someone tried to kill me. And before that, the last one was when Mrs. Martinez’s family threatened to sue. It’s got to be something big.”

And it was.

Something monumental and horrible.

“It’s not great,” Kyra warned, “You probably don’t want to hear about it…”

Well, now Charlie had to know.

“Kyra,” she said softly, pausing on the sidewalk once they exited the restaurant, “what is it?”

Kyra chewed on her lower lip, mulling over the decision on whether or not to tell her.

If Kyra was the one to tell her, at least she could control the way the information was spread. Charlie wouldn’t first be exposed to the news through sensationalized gossip or accusatory questions.

Maybe it was better this way.

“An intern made a mistake, or we think it was a mistake,” Kyra began, her hand resting on Charlie’s arms as they moved through the bitterly cold city. Even with their heavy jackets, they huddled together for warmth, and Kyra was comforted by Charlie’s closeness.

“A mistake,” Charlie repeated, the cogs in her brain already churning.

The last time the administrative wing panicked because of an intern mistake, it had been her own.

“What unit?” Charlie asked, hoping it would be something completely unrelated to her line of work. Maybe surgery made the wrong cut or psych misdiagnosed. Even dermatology was capable of mistakes if they tried hard enough.

“Diagnostics,” Kyra’s soft voice was almost lost to the roar of the Boston streets.

Charlie knew.

Without being told, she knew exactly what happened.

And the fact it came so easily to her meant that she had known the risk before now.

She let it happen.

“Esme,” Charlie blurted out her assumption. She prayed that Kyra would correct her.

“How did you know?” Kyra asked, bewildered.

Charlie winced.

“And the patient was Levi Coates.”

“Did someone already tell you?” Kyra’s eyes were so wide they took up most of her face. She was astonished – maybe even a little relieved she wouldn’t have to share the gory details if Charlie already knew.

Charlie couldn’t speak.

Without either noticing, the crosswalk turned green.

Most of the lunch rush had already left the city streets and returned to their office building, so the sidewalks weren’t crowded. Only a few people stood next to Charlie and Kyra, and once the light changed, they left the pair on the sidewalk by themselves.

“No…” Charlie murmured finally, only becoming aware of the crosswalk once it turned red again and stranded them in their original location.

No one needed to tell Charlie.

It all came back to her in horrific detail.

The day she came back to work – her last day before she abandoned Edenbrook and the care of her intern.

Esme acted strangely. She said things she shouldn’t have said to Charlie. She asked dangerous questions. She was too close to Levi – and too willing to take on the risks involved with helping him. And the party…. The party should have been a sign. No one survived a party at Edenbrook, it seemed.

But back then, Charlie couldn’t take it on. She was too fragile and overwhelmed to assume the responsibilities, stress, and mistakes of another. She couldn’t care for herself enough to teach someone else.

She’d left Esme.

She assumed someone would take over, spot it, and do something.

Or her little warning speech would be enough to warn Esme off from career-ruining misery.

But now, Charlie saw it wasn’t enough.

She failed Esme. She failed Edenbrook, and now she failed Levi.

Charlie didn’t want to ask what Esme had done, but she hoped it was benign – something like threatening a parent and having a lawsuit thrown in her face. She couldn’t watch another bright young intern lose a patient and devastate a family.

“What happened?” Charlie asked, not to sate curiosity but to be prepared. She knew that everyone would stare and whisper once she walked into Edenbrook again.

She didn’t look at Kyra as the light finally turned green again. While Kyra collected her thoughts, Charlie tugged her friend across the crosswalk.

Kyra sighed. There was no right way to say it, but even still, it felt wrong to say, “Levi died.”

Charlie’s world felt like it ended again.

“What?”

Charlie stopped in the middle of the street. Locked into her arms, Kyra was stuck there with her.

“She overdosed him. After everything his body went through, he couldn’t take it,” Kyra explained, looking at the crosswalk sign as she was eager to get out of the road.

“So, it was an accident?” Charlie meant to clarify, but it sounded more like a demand.

“Well…” Kyra swallowed, “We’re not sure.”

“You’re not sure?”

“She was close to the patient, and judging by the interviews we’ve conducted thus far… it’s possible that she did this to spare him, most likely with his permission. And that’s the result the admin office wants.”

“Why would they want that? That’s illegal in Massachusetts,” Charlie demanded, seemingly oblivious to the countdown on how much longer they had in this street.

“Charlie, let’s get out of the road,” Kyra implored.

“Just tell me.”

Kyra huffed, eyes scanning the cars waiting for the green light to run them over. Backed into a corner, she confessed, “Because, if she did, the hospital isn’t liable, and we can’t afford the lawsuit right now.”

Oh my God.

Finally, Charlie took a step, and Kyra immediately ushered them to the other side of the street. Only moments later, cars roared through the intersection, much to Kyra’s relief.

But Charlie was disgusted.

She was horrified. She hated that a death had turned into money so quickly. She hated that she hadn’t saved Esme and Levi. She hated that her experience with Mrs. Martinez had been repeated in another generation.

For the next block or so, Kyra and Charlie walked in silence.

Then Edenbrook came into view.

That place.

Full of death and destruction. Pain and misery. Mistakes and heartache.

An anxious building was suddenly clothed in danger.

She hated it. She hated the whole place and all it had done to those she cared about.

Kyra watched her carefully, hoping that she wouldn’t have to leave her friend in a bad state. Finally, she asked, “Should I not have told you?”

“No, you should have,” Charlie murmured, “Better you than someone like Declan Nash telling me it’s a tradition.”

Kyra squeezed Charlie’s arm, wishing she could absorb whatever terrible emotions she felt. She’d been through enough already.

“Do you think it was an accident?” Charlie bit her lip, unsure if she wanted the answer, “If only you got to decide, what would you do?”

“Me?” Kyra considered it, “I don’t know. I’ve only read a few interviews, and I hardly know her. But… looking at his file, I wouldn’t blame Esme if she did. With parents who wouldn’t allow him to give up, he didn’t have many other options, but… I don’t want her to get blamed for this for the sake of a hospital budget.”

Charlie appreciated Kyra’s fair consideration, but personally… Charlie felt sure of what Esme had done. And she couldn’t blame her, not when she saw Levi’s suffering. But it felt like a failure on Charlie’s part nonetheless. She should have been there to find other alternatives before it came to this.

They were close to Edenbrook now.

Soon, they’d say goodbye.

“Are you going to be okay?” Kyra inquired. She wouldn’t leave her friend like this, but she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t bring her back to the chaos in the administrative wing, and aside from Rafael, all of their other friends were currently working in Edenbrook, the source of the tragedy.

“I’ll be fine,” Charlie affirmed half-heartedly.

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” Kyra asked casually. Or it was supposed to sound casual – because, in actuality, it definitely wasn’t. Kyra wanted to know that Charlie wasn’t going to mope about all day or go on a downward spiral after the news.

“Not particularly,” Charlie shrugged, “While I’m here, I think I’ll run up and see Ethan.”

“Your boyfriend?” Kyra teased, and Charlie shot her a glare. Kyra nudged her playfully, “You should tell everyone, you know.”

“I will… eventually.”

“Eventually? So, they’ll find out by getting a wedding invite?”

“I’ll tell them when it’s time,” Charlie insisted, a ghost of a smile creeping across her lips at the joke.

“Just make sure I’m there when you tell Bryce. I want to see his reaction. Promise me, okay?” Kyra demanded once they got to the front door.

“Okay,” Charlie agreed weakly, feeling the color drain from her face as she stepped inside.

“Alright…” Kyra sighed, hesitating to leave. She balanced on either foot as she tried to think of a reason to stay, but ultimately, she just gave Charlie a hug, “Call me later, okay?”

Charlie nodded her agreement.

Kyra wasn’t totally satisfied, but she walked back to the admin office anyway.

Leaving Charlie in Edenbrook.

This building. This horrible building.

Charlie started walking to Ethan’s office on autopilot, but the halls plagued her. Ghosts of patients lost, mistakes made, and heartaches received whispered to her. And then they screamed.

The panic built in her chest – mixing with her sense of regret and responsibility.

Everything here had been a devastating failure.

In her blind rage, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

Ethan felt something similar as he walked to his office.

He’d spent his lunch break with Naveen. Their scheduled lunch had been disrupted by a crisis with Dr. Ortega, and their resulting time together amounted to picking up food from the cafeteria and eating it in Naveen’s office between emergency meetings.

This lunch turned into what Ethan usually called Naveen’s “retirement talks.” Every year or so, Naveen would tire of the politics and stress associated with their profession. He would meet Ethan for drinks or dinner, and he would propose a retirement. Throughout the meal, Naveen would build a fantasy of retirement – one where he read, fished, and hosted dinner parties with frequency. Ethan played the role of reminding Naveen why he loved his job. At the end of all of these talks, Ethan’s side always won because, truthfully, Naveen was never looking to retire. After all, even when Naveen almost died, he couldn’t stay retired for even a week after his recovery.

But today was different.

Today, during the hurried meal, Naveen hadn’t built a fantasy. He reflected on the reality of their job and the pain it can produce. The death of Levi Coates and the accusations against Dr. Esme Ortega were proof enough that this was a difficult burden to bear. Naveen felt responsible. So did Ethan.

It was Ethan’s department, and she worked under Ethan – not that Ethan could say he’d given much effort to her education recently. He’d been so entangled in his own life that he hadn’t been much of an attending. Perhaps he could have taught her something to prevent this.

Then there was the day Charlie came back to work… He’d seen Ortega. She’d been up to something. If Ethan hadn’t been so focused on Charlie, he would have seen it. He could have done something.

Though he felt similarly, he lacked Charlie’s rage and depth of pain.

So, when he opened his office door and saw his beloved girlfriend standing there, he smiled. Because it felt like old times, if just for a minute. When they were so eager for time together that they’d meet here in secret…. His heart ached for the innocence of that time.

Then, he remembered she was still nervous in Edenbrook, and she was pacing the room anxiously. This couldn’t be a romantic visit.

Ethan closed the door behind him quickly and greeted her with confusion, “Charlotte?”

“You know about Esme,” Charlie skipped pleasantries.

In the comfort and safety of this office, the apprehension poured out of her. In front of him, she was going to lose it.

Ethan frowned.

He wished she hadn’t found out yet. It was the last thing she needed.

“So, you know too then?” Ethan clarified, turning the lock on his office door out of precaution.

Charlie didn’t answer. She just held her breath, sucking in air through her nose and holding it in her chest. She thought it would calm her. It didn’t.

“This is my fault,” she decided.

“You weren’t even here!” Ethan objected.

“But she’s my intern.”

“You were mine,” Ethan stepped towards Charlie, “And I never took responsibility for Mrs. Martinez’s treatment.”

“But you were there to teach me. You did what you could. I wasn’t there for Esme. I wasn’t even here at all!” Charlie retorted.

“What do you think you could have done?” Ethan asked, knowing she was expecting too much of herself.

“I knew something was wrong, Ethan. Esme was acting inappropriately. She asked me questions about ‘doing the right thing’ even when it’s not allowed. I should have told someone or at least told her more about what happened to me. All I did was give her a short speech and then leave,” Charlie huffed, “I failed her.”

Ethan felt strongly that she hadn’t. Or even if she had, she was justified given her traumatic near-death experience only a few weeks ago.

“You didn’t administer the dose. You’re not responsible.”

Charlie paused, her green eyes boring into his. He felt exposed as she seemed to read his rawest emotions with ease. And to prove it, she inquired, “You feel no responsibility then?”

Ethan shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to lie.

Charlie shook her head as if unsurprised, and she began to pace again.

The panic was rising, and tears prickled at her eyes.

“This fucking place,” Charlie scorned, “All I wanted to be was a doctor. I thought I would come here and learn from the best. I thought I’d leave tired and deeply in debt but satisfied with my decision. And at every turn, something horrible happens. Why am I even here? I came here to help people, but who has been helped? Levi? Mrs. Martinez? Bobby?”

“Charlie…” Ethan eyes softened, “You’ve helped a lot of people.”

“Not enough. Not enough for this…” Charlie felt like she was breaking.

She was cracking and splintering. She was giving up.

“Why am I even trying to be a doctor if I’m just getting people killed?”

“Charlotte,” Ethan didn’t expect to react so viscerally, but something about her accusation stung him deeply. He placed either hand on her shoulder and insisted, “You haven’t killed anyone.”

“I can’t do this,” she shook her head so quickly, so fervently that her snow-dampened curls flew, “I can’t come back here. I can’t come back to Edenbrook, where nothing goes right and everyone gets hurt. Ethan… I’m leaving medicine.”

He could have sworn the earth stopped turning.

“Charlotte,” Ethan began, prepared to give a speech on why she was wrong, but she cut him off.

“I’ve already made up my mind. I made it up before I even got here. I can’t take another tragedy in this hospital. I can’t keep going, Ethan. I’m literally building up my tolerance just to stand in this office! How am I supposed to practice again?”

“You haven’t given yourself enough time!” Ethan asserted.

“It’s been over a month. How much more time will it take, Ethan?”

“Naveen is willing to give you as much time as you need.”

“But when is enough time? Ethan, there isn’t enough time! I am broken. I lost the instinct. I can’t do it anymore,” she felt like she was begging him to understand, just as he was begging her to change her mind.

“You are not broken, no matter what. You haven’t even tested the instinct to know if it’s lost,” Ethan knew that pinpointing the holes in her argument would do little to sway her, but it felt like all he had.

“I can’t keep going like this, Ethan,” Charlie said so passionately that Ethan instantly knew she was right. His hand went to hers, and he squeezed it.

“I know…” he murmured.

For a second, she thought she’d won. But the racing panic and horror didn’t leave her mind…

“But you don’t have to quit to change this,” Ethan decided.

Charlie frowned, but having decided on his mission, Ethan ignored her. He went to his desk and collected the chart for the newest patient of the Diagnostics Team – a patient they hadn’t even seen yet.

He handed the file to her and told her, “Read it.”

“I’m not even on duty. I can’t read this,” Charlie dropped the chart back to his desk.

“You can, and you are. And read it quickly because you’re going with us to meet the patient.”

“I’m on leave.”

“I’m your supervisor, and if you’re going to quit, I’m taking you off leave first,” Ethan determined.

It was a risk.

He could either change her mind or make it much, much worse.

“You should grab your jacket. The patient is at a ski resort, and we’re leaving in half an hour,” Ethan announced authoritatively.

She could say no, of course. She was very good at calling him out on his bullshit, particularly when he claimed authority he didn’t have. But he didn’t think she would because she wanted to know just as much as he did.

“So, what? You don’t want to leave me alone when I’m upset, and you think you can entice me back into work with a mystery? Is that what you have planned?” Charlie accused Ethan.

“No,” Ethan stood firmly, “I’m bringing you because I know you’ll solve it, and you need a reminder of all the good you’ve done here.”

Charlie made a show of rolling her eyes. She hated that he dared to fight her on her own career decisions, particularly after everything she’d been through. But she still reached for the chart. Just as he suspected, she didn’t continue the fight. Instead, she gathered her coat and started reading about the patient.

She wanted to know if Ethan was right.

And honestly… part of her hoped he was.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for continuing to support this series! I didn’t mean to take this last hiatus, but with finishing up my semester, graduating, saying goodbye to friends, and moving, I ended up needing more time than I originally imagined.

Please share your thoughts on this chapter - and Kyra finding out!

#Choices #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart 2 #pixelberry #dr. ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey x mc #oh 2

59 notes · View notes

thunderpot · 4 years ago

Photo

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 4.2 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 & 9

“So how about this? Early 2000s, very stylish, a bit of an Interview with the Vampire flair but with a tad more decadence.”

“Uh..I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“You’re right, how about we do something more momma’s boy, maybe?”

“Shippou this is kinda…”

“Okay, okay, tough crowd you are I see.” The fox would change his glamour again and then try very badly to hold a laugh “This is…”

“What? Let me see!”

“Oh god, Inu--”

Inuyasha snapped the hand mirror Shippou was trying to hide from him just to see himself and throw it back at his friend:

“I’m gonna fucking KILL YOU, YOU BRAT!!!”

Shippou laughed, half running around in his room

“SHE WILL LOVE YOUR NEW STYLE INUYASHA WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!”

“Undo it!!”

“ARGH ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” He stopped, hands raised “Sit up, I’ll make things ok this time, normie”

Inuyasha showed him a finger before sitting down and seeing shippou grab his new necklace

“Shouldn’t this leaf go on my head?”

“This is the 21st century, everyone would notice a leaf on top of your head- Specially a silver one like yours. So turn into a necklace and ta-da! Insta-fashion.” The ‘poof’ would happen shortly after and inuyasha would look at himself in the mirror again. “So? What do you think? I’m amazing, just say it!”

“This is.. Certainly different. Do you think she’ll..?”

“Just go, dogboi! I can’t hide all your features though, so those tattoos of yours will stay. Watch out not to flash them too much in public, eh?”

And with a nod, Inuyasha left.

----------

It had been a couple days since she had seen the cute dog in the park at night, but Kagome had soon forgotten about it. The university had been quite demanding; she had another paper to deliver in a couple of days, and that was all she could think about, the white-haired guy starting to fade away from her mind.

“Don’t forget to check out our sales tasting! The best cheese and the best sausages for a fraction of the price, only this week!” said the voice on the speakers while Kagome made her way to the vegetables section.

She had been neglecting her own diet thanks to all the crunch hours needed to write the papers, but now that she had a bit of time, a properly cooked meal instead of instant ramen felt like a small blessing. The place was so full, however, that Kagome honestly questioned whether she’d ever be able to get out of the place after having gotten in.

“Some stuffed bell peppers sound good..they look pretty today, too” She casually checked out on her phone the ingredients for a recipe Sango gave her a while ago. She needed wine, some beans, tomatoes, peppers, onions and a couple extras for seasoning that she had at home.

Grabbing a plastic bag to put her choosings, she was almost done when an old lady bumped into her, making her drop the bag as she bumped into someone else too.

“Oh I am so sorry!” She said as she quickly crouched to grab her poor vegetables. At least most of them were still safe inside the bag.

“Ah, let me help you out with that.” the voice came right in front of her. It was beautiful and kinda deep, probably the person she bumped into.

“No, no, that’s ok I can--” Her voice died down quickly as she felt something like a small static shock when her hand inadvertently touched the other person’s “Ah..”

And then she looked up.

“Such a waste, these looked very fine. At least the majority is still intact...”

“Damn, he’s hot.”

The guy gave out a small laugh.

“Aren’t we all, on such a hot day.”

Kagome’s face went as red as one of the bell peppers inside the bag. Did she say that out loud!?

“I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to--! Oh wow, way to embarrass myself.. I’m so sorry!”

She looked everywhere now, except to the guy, that made no case of it, helping her out with the bag. And only when they were standing again did she quickly remove the hand she kept on top of his.

“Uh- I, hum.. Thank you.” She was mortified. God, she just found a cute guy and she had to embarrass herself like that. At least Sango wasn’t there to laugh at her face for the next 20 years.

“No worries. Cya around.” He said as he turned to go away, and only then Kagome finally had the courage to take a good look at him, her face still burning like wildfire.

“Cya...” He was big alright. Yes, he was. Hot, that was a good word for it. But his most striking feature was probably the silver-ish hair. She had seen that before. There was something about him..What were the colors of his eyes again?

“Wait!” -She pulled his sleeve without thinking, revealing two, maybe three rounds of tattoos on his right arm, to absolute horror of another old lady that was passing by, and a small curse of an old man doing his groceries.

She had seen that before, for sure. Maybe she WAS going crazy. As he turned to face her she could see, for a split second, a shimmer before his amber eyes looked back at her. Oh god.

There was a multitude of white-everythings bumping into her, finding their way to her. There was something obvious missing, but that was no coincidence, was it?

“Ah, I’m sorry but hum.. I’m Higurashi Kagome. What is your name again?”

It looked like the guy took a split second decision before gently taking his sleeve out of her hand and covering his arm again, answering her with a small, unreadable smile.

“Nice to meet you, Higurashi. I’m Inuyasha.”

Shit.

#Aurora #inuyasha #kagome #shippou #inukag #au #thank you so much to everyone who helped me choose the hair style for inu!#all 5 were cool #but this one was surely the best indeed!

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izzabeean · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 7 : Bad Luck

SUMMARY

Sunday morning starts off with a surprise, and it just keeps getting better.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 3,984

content : profanity, slightly suggested nsfw

tags : alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : this chapter was supposed to be a bit longer, but I decided to cut it shorter. I've decided to have the rest at the beginning of next chapter. I hope you enjoy!!

Post Thursday evenings PST, if not latest by Friday.

masterlist

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If your life didn’t hit rock bottom before, it most definitely did now.

It’s the fact you were thrown into absolute chaos first thing Sunday morning. It’s spending hours scrambling to move furniture to a dry place. It’s swiftly securing as many of your belongings as while trying to contain the severe agony coursing through you. Although the flood was very shallow, only damaging the floor and the bottom portion of the wall, which you’re thankful for, it really solidified the kind of luck you were having: everything you touched lately, seemed to fall apart. In fact, you were just ready to disappear at this point.

Your head is spinning as you sit on the steps of the apartment complex with your face buried in your hands, refusing to cry even if you really, really wanted to.

You peer up at Oikawa whose back is to you making a phone call. Thankfully he was there to respond when your first reaction was to freak out and call your parents, who (of course) were away on vacation. The way he jumped at the chance to quickly gather your stuff out of the apartment. The way he told you to get a hold of your landlord to notify them about the flood. The way he felt like he had everything under control.

But here you were, devastated, unable to function. Just frozen.

Hanging up the call, he walks back over to you. “Iwa-chan is going to be here with his car to pick up your things,” Oikawa says, almost breathless at the sight of the distressing aura protruding off you. “Did you get a hold of your parents?”

“No,” you utter, trying to pretend you’re not on the verge of a meltdown. “But I have a key to their place, so we can stash my stuff there.”

“Great! It might take a couple trips, but it will be fine,” he assures watching you grow more and more despondent. “At least your choice of decor is minimalist or we’d be at this all day,” he teases trying to lighten the mood.

You pause furrowing your brow, unable to even look at Oikawa. It’s a joke, obviously, but it feels backhanded. And you do what you do best, stay silent.

Oikawa sighs and sits beside you on the staircase. “Y/N, it’s alright this happens to a lot of people.”

And then you feel your eyes starting to tear up. Fuck, you can’t let him see you like this. So much has already happened and now is not the time to completely come undone before him. Taking a deep breath you turn to Oikawa.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you smile. It doesn’t feel genuine but you force it.

He knows, despite your reply, that you’re very frustrated. Looking down at your hands placed on your lap, he has this sudden urge to grab hold of them and tell you he’s here to help. He knows a lot has happened, and all he wanted to do was reassure you things were going to be okay… Eventually.

“What?” you ask.

It takes him a minute to realize that you catch him staring. When he does, he gives you a wry look, hiding the fact that he is visibly concerned about you. He turns his head just a fraction, narrowing his eyes on your cheek. “You have something on your face,” he lies.

You glower at him suspiciously, turning away from him as you wipe your cheek on your sleeve. If you had the energy to do so, you probably would have yelled at Oikawa for messing with you. But no, you couldn’t take your frustration out on him, he doesn’t deserve that shit. Of course, it’s not his fault all these different mishaps keep happening to you. He’s been everything but patient lately, the least you could do was try to tolerate his childishness more than usual.

“Y/N!”

You snap your head behind you to see an older lady standing at the top of the staircase looking down at you.

“Ito-san. Good morning,” you greet while standing up to give a little bow.

Ito-san is your neighbor from a couple of apartments down. You have an acquaintance kind of relationship, one where you help carry groceries whenever you’ve bumped into her on the way up to her apartment. The most you know about each other is just through small talk like she lives alone and is retired, spending most of her days trying to pick up new hobbies; there’s a new one each month.

She walks further down the steps meeting your gaze on ground level. “I heard about your apartment,” she says while eyeing up Oikawa. “Luckily your boyfriend was here to help out.”

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” you answer.

“Don’t be modest dear. Here,” she says, holding out a car key.

“Ah, Ito-san, you don’t have--”

“Of course I do,” she replies with a smile, placing the key in your hands. “For all that you do for me, I insist.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa chirps, giving Ito a deep bow to which you follow.

“Get your things somewhere safe. Good luck!” she says with a wave walking back up the stairs.

Turning to Oikawa, your face pales, “Tōru, I can’t.”

“Huh?” Is all he replies.

You begin to shake as the stress surges through your body. Had you given quicker at a response, you might have declined the offer. “I don’t know how to drive.”

Oikawa blinks then bursts out laughing while snatching the keys out of your hand. “So you need my help, again,” he teases with a smirk.

“Yes,” you sigh full of irritation. If you knew he was going to act this way, you would’ve asked him to leave and you could figure things out on your own. But before you could, a honk echoes from the loading zone in front of the apartment complex. And it’s Iwaizumi.

Trying to push down the feeling of excitement you feel when you see him step out of the vehicle, he straightens up peering at you with a radiant expression. Your eyes suddenly brighten while the corners of your mouth curl into a smile. He shoves his hands into his pockets and walks toward you.

“How’s the wrist?” Iwaizumi asks, looking into your eyes with a warm reassuring gaze.

“It’s fine,” you reassured, rotating it in a circle proving that it’s fully functional.

“Oikawa and I will move your stuff,” he instructs. As you’re about to challenge him on his plans, he cuts you off, “Unless you’re planning on injuring your wrist more, you're not allowed to help.”

You frown slightly at his stony remark, but you’re still happy to see him, beyond belief. Biting the inside of your cheek, you watch Oikawa lead Iwaizumi to your apartment. It’s so pathetic that you always need to rely on someone to come to your rescue. How could you stoop to this level? What happened before you met Ushijima? Were you always this reliant on others?

------

“Good morning!” Ushijima greets while walking into the classroom.

“Good morning,” you respond, checking out your boyfriend dressed in his joggers and hoodie. Even though it's not the most stylish attire, you still thought he looked so good in them as you could see the outline of his strong, muscular build (plus, his casual outfits warded away unwanted attention from girls and you were fine with that). “Did you get the assignment done?”

Ushijima stares at you blankly, “What assignment?”

“I texted you last night to remind you!” you explain exasperated at his inattentive behavior.

Ushijima whips his phone out of his pocket, staring intently at it. Suddenly the sound of the device turning on rings and his face lights up. “I got it.”

“Just now?” you shriek, gaining the attention of other students in the room.

“When is it due?” he asks nonchalantly, as the blood in your veins starts to boil.

“Today!”

“Oh,” Ushijima eyes you stoically, then kisses you on the cheek. “Thank you for reminding me.”

You clasp your cheek while looking at him and your face grows hot from the act. “N-no problem.”

“Can I copy off--”

“No!” you scold.

------

“Y/N?”

Iwaizumi’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, did you say something?” you ask, sitting in the passenger seat beside Iwaizumi.

The morning chaos wears on into the afternoon as you drive to your parent's place with Oikawa following in Ito-san’s car behind you. Fortunately, the drive is only thirty minutes out of the city, you didn’t want to take more time out of Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s day. You feel guilty.

“Yeah…” Iwaizumi replies. “So, uh- how do you know Oikawa?”

“Um, first year of university,” you exclaim. “It was pouring rain after classes and I was waiting for it to stop.”

“Did Oikawa use one of his shitty pickup lines?”

“More like his smug remarks,” you giggle. “It’s been like… Four years? Oh my god, how have I dealt with him for that long?”

“Four years is nothing compared to the fifteen I’ve known him,” Iwaizumi grins.

“Fifteen?” you gasp as your jaw drops. “How many years has he taken off you?”

“More than I’d want,” he laughs.

You eye him carefully when he responds. It’s the first time you’ve seen Iwaizumi laugh since you’ve met him. And truthfully, it was alluring, something you’d hope to see again soon.

“He’s a good guy though,” he adds.

But not as good as you, you think. Your heart stumbles over its own rhythm as part of your brain screams at you to continue the conversation, seeing this is the only opportunity you have ever been alone with Iwaizumi. You try to take a look at him in your peripheral, noticing his muscular arms flexing underneath his t-shirt as his strong hands grip the wheel. The same hands that guided you away from the alley to the restaurant, were now helping you again.

Did you even thank him? You doubt you had the chance in your drunken state. To be honest, you were quite embarrassed that that was his first full impression of you. You can’t believe you had the audacity to get to that point of intoxication. It hurts your head just thinking about it.

“Oh, just a left at the next turn,” you indicate. “It’s not much further from here.”

Upon arriving at your parent's place, you instruct Iwaizumi to park in front of the double car garage to which Oikawa pulls up beside. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you slide out of the car.

“Wow Y/N,” Oikawa breathes looking up at the bigger than the average house. “You never told me your parents are rich?”

“Let me unlock it,” you instruct, ignoring Oikawa. “We will unload everything into the garage.”

As you rush off, Oikawa whistles observing the two-story house taking up two lots worth of houses. “This is where she grew up?” he assumes. “Wow.”

Iwaizumi gazes at the contemporary styled home. He recalls when he heard you moved from the suburbs closer to the city and now he understood as to why.

The sound of the garage door opening startles them both as they quickly gain composure to start unloading the furniture. You let out a deep sigh, not quite ecstatic both men are at your childhood home. Not because you’re embarrassed, but because of all the questions that are followed up like what do your parents do for a living or why didn’t you tell me you had such a big house?

Oikawa and Iwaizumi diligently manage to fill the garage with your stuff. You wanted to help but only received scolding from Iwaizumi when you even lifted a finger. But in no time, the task was complete.

“Is that it?” you ask as Iwaizumi nods in compliance. “Okay, wait outside and I’ll lock up.”

But before you even get a reply, you notice Oikawa is missing and the door leading into the house from the garage is open.

“What the fuck Tōru!” you yell walking into the main part of the house in search of the annoying troublemaker. Iwaizumi follows behind, looking at the high-ceiling living space that leads into a kitchen. He’s never seen anything remotely like this before.

Oikawa pokes out from a room on the side, “Y/N, why have you never invited me over?”

“Oikawa let's go!” you snap.

“Oooh, using my last name, somebody’s pissed,” he taunts, sending you a shit-eating smile. “I’m going to look for Y/N-chans room!”

“No! Don’t!” you screech, and he laughs while running up the stairs. That stupid laugh. It can get on your nerves but you don’t have the strength to run after him. “Fine, he can do what he wants.”

You turn back to the living room and let your eyes roam around. It’s a lot different than you last remembered with a more modern take on traditional Japanese houses. There’s neutral furniture with a very minimalistic feel, almost a cold feeling.

“They’ve changed it a lot since I’ve been last here,” you whisper.

Iwaizumi looks at a picture of you and your parents mounted on the wall; your graduation photo from high school. You look good.

“So, uh, how's your wrist?" he asks.

"It's alright," you smile. "A little swollen."

"Want me to wrap it up for you when we get back?"

"Uh, sure," you reply. “Actually, I’m sure there’s some first aid supplies around here.”

He follows you down a hall into a small bathroom. He lingers in the doorway watching you open the cabinets in search of something he can use to wrap up your wrist. By some luck, you take out an elastic bandage and present it to him. “Does this work?”

He nods, taking the bandage, and holds out his hand, “Let’s see it.”

You pause before rolling up your sleeve to show the damage which is now a tinge of dark purple and red. He doesn't react though, he keeps a straight face while maintaining calm upon analyzing the bruised area. Taking your hand into his, your face grows hot, his hands are warm, the perfect temperature, making your entire body tingle. Slowly you trace your eyes back up to his face, his eyes narrow as he tucks the bandage up and around the wrist then pulls to tighten it. The gesture makes you shutter causing him to stop.

“Is it too tight?” he asks, scanning for any pain in your face

“A bit,” you squeak.

Iwaizumi loosens the bandage a bit to rewrap it again. This time he’s gentler, drawing the bandage around the wrist then wrapping across your hand and palm with a soft tug; still firm, but not quite tight.

“That should help decrease bruising,” he says, cutting the bandage and securing it with a pin.

“Thanks,” you mutter, holding your hand out to inspect it. “How do you know this stuff?”

“I’m majoring in sports sciences,” he answers.

“Woah, that’s so cool!” you smile while putting the bandages away as he continues to linger in the bathroom. “How many years do you have left?

“This is my last semester--”

“Y/N-chan! Your room is boring,” Oikawa interrupts pouting. “I couldn’t find anything embarrassing.”

“Why are you looking for that kind of stuff, Shitty-kawa!” you groan.

Iwaizumi laughs at the nickname and you have to stop yourself from smiling too hard from the sound.

“Okay, the tour is over. Let’s go!” you exclaim, pushing them towards the front door.

------

Stepping into the Oikawa’s apartment, you didn’t think you’d ever get back so soon; from driving back into the city, to dropping off Ito-san’s car and keys to finding out more information from your landlord of what’s going on. You were exhausted. Absolutely over today.

“Why do you have so much stuff,” Oikawa whines while setting your bags down in the foyer.

Maybe you should have stayed with your parents, then you wouldn’t have to deal with seeing Oikawa 24/7, but by public transit, their place was too far away and you really didn’t want to say no to Oikawa after he insisted that you bunk at his place. Plus you couldn’t agree more if Iwaizumi was going to be there.

“Stop complaining!” Iwaizumi scolds who has two of your bags in his hands. Again, he refused to let you carry anything to avoid putting any more strain on your wrist. But you didn’t mind because the sight of him carrying your bags for you makes you swoon.

“That’s not nice Iwa-chan,” Oikawa cries while closing the door then turns to you. “You can take my room until you move back in.”

“What? No, I can’t--” you begin.

“It’s either that or we share a bed,” Oikawa smirks.

“Uh, no.”

He snickers at your reply as you shuffle off to his room to put your stuff away. You blinked in surprise, almost startled by the fact how surprisingly tidy his room is. Reality sinks in as you walk up to the window looking outside to the new view of a courtyard between two apartment buildings. You’d be staying here for who knows how long and it sort of worries you. You’ve never had roommates before, the last thing you wanted was to annoy the shit out of your only friend and his hot friend.

“You good?” Oikawa’s voice scares you, to which you jump and gasp for air.

“Don’t do that!”

“Ok, well, it is my room, I just came in here to grab my things to take a shower,” he adds. To his credit, he doesn’t even look tired after such a long day. “Want to go to the library after?”

“Sure I have some assignments I need to get started on.”

“Cool!” Oikawa smiled, turning to head to the bathroom. “Also, no peeking!”

You send him a growl as he scurries away.

You exhale a deep sigh while collapsing on Oikawa’s bed feeling subtle hints of the hangover but trying to repress it with a huff. Whilst contemplating what the hell you’re going to do for a week at Oikawa’s, you feel yourself drift off...

You take a peek into the crowded classroom. A bunch of students are grouped in their cliques, chatting and laughing. You sigh, not able to recognize anyone you know. Your hands start to sweat as you hold your laptop tighter to your chest.

"It's alright. Just take it easy, everything will be fine," you mutter in an attempt to hype yourself up.

You walk into the massive lecture hall hugging the wall closest to the door to make your way up the stairs. About midway through, you glance down the row of desks and spy a seat available off to the center.

As you approach your seat, you notice someone's coat laying on the floor.

"Oh, you dropped your coat," you note, picking it up off the floor and carefully draping it back over their chair.

You glance down at the person. A young man about your age stares at you with wide stunning eyes. His hair swept to the side, slightly spiked with a tawny hue and his complexion was glowing appearing fresh and radiant.

Initially, his aura exudes kind and pure, until the mood in his eyes shifts, painting a mysterious narrative, bubbling with a playful and coy kind of hunger.

“Thanks,” he purrs.

You awkwardly smile at him and go to sit a couple of seats down from him. Just as you take your spot, the professor enters the room addressing the start of class. You look back at the brunette who looks oddly familiar, almost like Oikawa.

And it is, but he's sitting next to you with heavy lustful eyes.

Suddenly you aren't in your lecture hall anymore but in the campus library.

You're sitting at a desk, merely inches away from each other. You feel his leg lightly brush against yours. A tingling sensation jolts through your body as his touch lingers. The heat of his body warms up your exposed skin.

Oikawa leans in. "I notice you've been staring," he whispers.

His words make your insides melt at the firmness of his tone. And your heart pumps faster as he gently touches your leg with his hand. You can feel his breath on the shell of your ear as he places his hand behind your head, tangling his fingers in your hair.

You start to tense up as he pulls away, with a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth.

"Do you want me?" His voice dropped to a low growl, sliding his hand up your leg.

You wake up startled, gasping for air.

What was that, you think, trying to process what has just happened. You feel a pit in your stomach grow by the second as this disoriented sensation swirls in your head. Then there’s a beat. You hold your head as the temples start to throb and the headache you’ve been waiting for rushes in so fast you couldn’t even feel it approaching.

Taking a look around, you were still in Oikawa’s room.

What the fuck.

Honestly, in all your years of friendship, you’ve never counted on having that sort of dream starring Oikawa. In theory, you had plenty of opportunities to, but why now? Something about it was strangely arousing, but you couldn’t believe you had admitted that to yourself… Oikawa is your friend.

You notice through the half-opened blinds the daylight fading low as the glow between evening and day paints the room orange. You wonder how long you’d be asleep and quickly get up realizing the day is nearly done.

Walking out, you are face to face with Iwaizumi who’s about to walk down the hallway. You let out a little yelp and clasp your chest catching your breath. The sudden excitement surprises him and he nervously laughs in response while rubbing the back of his neck.

“H-how long was I asleep?” you stumble on your words trying to process what to say.

“Not long…”

The air is filled with silence and awkwardness. Somewhere between comfortable and uncomfortable, you stand in each other's presence waiting for someone to speak first. Your eyes are groggy still from your nap and you’ve accepted your mind will be hazy but didn’t feel the need to go back and rest. The dream already spooked you enough and preferred to avoid a sequel.

“Do you know where Oikawa went?” you ask, the only appropriate topic that comes to mind.

“I think he went to the library,” he answers, walking down the hall to his room.

“Oh…”

You wanted to say something more, you felt in debt to him, even Oikawa. But mostly Iwaizumi. For saving you from the creep last night, helping you with your apartment, and even wrapping your wrist today. You wish you could do anything to repay him but didn’t quite know how…

Unless.

“Hey, so,” you call Iwaizumi who stops to look at you. His gaze is soft and you feel like your heart is going to stop. “Where’s the nearest grocery store?”

“Oh, it’s not far from here. Why? Did you need something?”

“Kind of,” you look down at your feet, unable to look at how handsome he is. “I was just thinking of making you guys something… As thanks, you know. For everything.”

Iwaizumi blinks at your response. Your cheeks felt like they were heating up as you feel his prolonged stare.

“I’ll get my coat,” he says, walking past you.

“Oh, you don’t have to come with,” you plead, following behind him to the foyer.

“Well, who else is going to protect you if a creep shows up again?” he teases.

You give him a smug smile at his words. Are we joking about this now? Well, it doesn’t matter because you would quite enjoy his company anyway. Besides, you were happy to spend more time with him.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x y/n #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #ushijima x reader #ushijima x y/n

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