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phamapple · 23 days ago

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THEY WERE ROOMMATES

When opposites attract, sparks fly. Follow the adorable misadventures of two college students as they go from sworn enemies to head-over-heels in love

Warnings; fluff, fem!reader, kissing, enemies-friends-lovers, mini jealousy moments, Daniela is mentioned like twice, not so slow burn, med student reader, art student manon, uni au, roommates au, reader is a neat freak lmk if I missed anything cuz I think there’s a lot that I missed :P 7.5k WC

You trudged into your dorm room, lugging a heavy suitcase behind you. You were not thrilled about sharing a room with a stranger, but it was a necessary evil. You'd heard horror stories about dorm roommates, but you were determined to make the best of it.

As you entered the room, you were greeted by a messy-haired girl sprawled across the bed, surrounded by art supplies. She looked up at you with a scowl, her eyes narrowing.

"Great, you must be my roommate," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm Manon."

You raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her attitude. "Nice to meet you, Manon," you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. "I'm Y/n."

Manon snorted, rolling her eyes. "Let me guess. A med major, huh? How original."

You felt a spark of irritation, but you bit back a retort. You didn't want to start off on the wrong foot.

As you began to unpack, Manon barely acknowledged your presence, too busy sketching in her notebook. You tried to make small talk, but she responded with monosyllabic grunts.

It was clear that Manon was not thrilled about sharing a room with you. But you were determined to make the best of it, even if it killed you.

As the days went by, you settled into a routine. Manon would spend most of her time drawing or painting, while you'd study for your med school classes. The tension between you was palpable, but you tried to ignore it.

But despite the rocky start, you began to notice little things about Manon. The way she smiled to herself when she was drawing, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about art.

And Manon, despite her tough exterior, seemed to be warming up to you. She'd occasionally ask you for advice on her art projects or share her favorite snacks with you.

It was a small start, but you sensed that there might be more to Manon than met the eye.

—

You'd always been a tidy person, and you took pride in keeping your space organized. So, when Manon started to spread her art supplies all over the room, you felt a growing sense of frustration.

At first, it was just a few sketchbooks and pencils scattered across the desk. But as the days went by, the clutter grew. Paints, canvases, and half-finished projects took over the floor, the bed, and even the windowsill.

You tried to be patient, reminding yourself that Manon was an art major and needed space to create. But as the mess grew, so did your annoyance.

One day, as you were trying to study for an exam, you realized that you couldn't even see the surface of your desk anymore. Manon's art supplies had taken over, and you felt like you were drowning in a sea of paper, paint, and glitter.

"Manon, can we talk?" you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Manon looked up from her latest project, a half-finished painting that was taking up most of the floor. "What's up?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"It's just...the room is getting really cluttered," you said, trying to choose your words carefully. "I know you need space to create, but I need some space to study."

Manon raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly the most exciting person to live with," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm just trying to add some personality to this drab room."

You felt a surge of irritation, but you tried to keep your cool. "I understand that, but can we find a compromise? Maybe we can set up a designated art space for you, and I can have some space to study?"

Manon snorted. "You want to restrict my creativity? No way."

The conversation quickly escalated into a full-blown argument, with both of you shouting over each other. The tension between you was palpable, and it seemed like the room was shrinking by the minute.

As the argument reached its peak, the RA knocked on the door, asking you to keep the noise down. You both glared at each other, still fuming, before Manon stormed out of the room, leaving you to seethe in silence.

The room was still cluttered, and the tension between you and Manon was thicker than ever. You wondered how you were going to survive the rest of the semester with this much animosity between you.

You gazed around the cluttered room, feeling a sense of irritation wash over you. Manon's art supplies were scattered everywhere, making it impossible for you to focus on your studies. You let out a deep sigh and decided to take matters into your own hands.

You started to pick up the scattered art supplies, carefully organizing them into neat piles. As you worked, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The room was starting to look more like a peaceful sanctuary, and less like a chaotic art studio.

As you finished up, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. The room was transformed, with Manon's art supplies neatly organized and out of the way. You let out a sigh of relief and settled back into your chair, ready to focus on your studies.

Just as you were getting into the zone, you heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by the creak of the door to your room. You looked up to see Manon standing in the doorway, a scowl on her face and a bag of groceries in her hand.

For a moment, you just looked at her, taking in the sight of her rumpled clothes and messy hair. She looked like she'd just rolled out of bed, and you couldn't help but wonder what she'd been up to.

Manon's scowl deepened as she caught your eye, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with a soft pink hue. You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden shyness.

Without a word, Manon walked over to your desk and dumped the bag of groceries onto the surface. You looked at the pile of snacks in surprise, wondering what she was doing.

As you gazed up at Manon, you saw a flicker of apology in her eyes, but her expression remained stubbornly scowled. "I brought snacks, as an apology for my attitude earlier" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a surge of surprise at her words, but you quickly pushed it aside. Instead, you smiled at her, a warm, soft smile that you hoped would put her at ease.

"Thanks, Manon," you said, your voice gentle. "That's really sweet of you."

Manon's scowl faltered for a moment, and you saw a glimmer of surprise in her eyes. She seemed taken aback by your warm response, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd misread the situation entirely.

But then Manon's expression hardened again, and she turned away, muttering something under her breath. You watched her go, feeling a sense of confusion wash over you.

What was going on with Manon? You wondered. One minute she was scowling at you, and the next she was bringing you snacks and apologizing. You shook your head, feeling a sense of bewilderment.

As you turned back to your studies, you couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about Manon's sudden change of heart. What had brought it on? And what did it mean for your tumultuous relationship?

The questions swirled in your mind as you delved back into your studies, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Manon's apology had been unexpected, to say the least, and you wondered what other surprises she had in store for you.

—

Manon burst into the room, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Tonight's the night!" she exclaimed, tossing her bag onto the bed.

You looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow. "What's tonight?" you asked, a hint of wariness creeping into your voice.

Manon grinned. "Tonight, we're going out!" she said, her voice dripping with excitement. "We're going to paint the town red, or at least, we're going to try."

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready for a night out with Manon. She had a reputation for being unpredictable, and you weren't sure if you were ready for whatever adventure she had planned.

But Manon's enthusiasm was infectious, and before you knew it, you were swept up in her excitement. "Okay, fine," you said, tossing your book aside. "But if we get into trouble, I'm blaming you."

Manon whooped, pumping her fist in the air. "That's the spirit!" she exclaimed, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room.

As you hit the streets, you realized that Manon had no clear plan in mind. She seemed to be making it up as she went along, dragging you from one random location to the next.

You found yourself laughing and joking with Manon, feeling a sense of freedom and release that you hadn't experienced in weeks. It was like you'd left your worries and cares behind, and were just living in the moment.

But as the night wore on, things started to get a little out of hand. Manon convinced you to join her in a karaoke bar, where you proceeded to butcher a rendition of your favorite song. The crowd was merciless, and you found yourself laughing and cringing at the same time.

Next, Manon dragged you to a street food stall, where you sampled some of the most exotic and bizarre foods you'd ever encountered. Some of it was delicious, while other dishes were downright terrifying.

As the night drew to a close, Manon convinced you to join her in a crazy dance party, where you found yourself surrounded by pulsating lights and thumping music. You lost yourself in the beat, feeling a sense of abandon and freedom that you hadn't experienced in years.

It wasn't until the sun started to rise that you realized just how late it was. Manon grinned at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Best night ever, right?" she exclaimed, linking her arm through yours.

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a sense of exhilaration and exhaustion. "Definitely one for the books," you agreed, shaking your head in wonder.

As you stumbled back to the dorm, the sun rising over the horizon, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Manon. She'd pushed you out of your comfort zone, and shown you a side of yourself that you never knew existed.

And as you drifted off to sleep, your head spinning with memories of the night's adventures, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises Manon had in store for you.

You woke up to the sound of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, wondering who could be visiting at such an early hour. You tossed off the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, deciding that the best time to investigate was when you went to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

As you made your way downstairs, the noise grew louder, and you could tell that Manon was entertaining a guest. You stepped into the living room, and your eyes landed on Manon, who was lounging on the couch with a blonde, curly-haired girl. They both turned to look at you, and you offered a simple "morning" before heading to the kitchen.

As you poured yourself a glass of water, you couldn't help but overhear the conversation between Manon and her friend. The blonde girl was chatting away, asking Manon about her summer plans, and Manon was responding with her usual sarcastic humor. But then, the girl's attention turned to you, and you heard her say, "Who's that cutie? I hope she's up for grabs."

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you listened to Manon's response. "She's my roommate," Manon said, her voice firm, "and I'm 90% sure she isn't single." Manon's expression narrowed, and you could sense a hint of protectiveness in her tone.

You stood in the kitchen, frozen, wondering what Manon meant by that statement. Why was she so sure you weren't single? And why did she seem so invested in keeping her friend away from you? You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized that Manon might be more perceptive than you gave her credit for.

As you stood there, lost in thought, the conversation between Manon and her friend continued. The blonde girl was teasing Manon about being possessive, and Manon was laughing it off, but you could sense an undercurrent of tension. It was clear that Manon was not interested in sharing you with her friend, but you weren't sure why.

You took a deep breath and tried to shake off the feeling of unease. You told yourself that Manon was just being protective, that she didn't want her friend to get hurt. But as you stood there, listening to the conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.

After a few minutes, you composed yourself and headed back upstairs, trying to act nonchalant. But as you lay in bed, you couldn't help but wonder what Manon's intentions were. Was she really just being protective, or was there something more to it?

You decided to brush it off and pretend you didn't hear the conversation. You told yourself that it was none of your business, and that Manon was probably just joking around with her friend.

As you went about your day, you tried to avoid thinking about the conversation. You focused on your studies, worked on a project, and even managed to squeeze in a quick workout. But despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between you and Manon.

When Manon's friend left later that day, Manon came upstairs to grab a book from her shelf. She caught your eye and smiled, but you just nodded and looked away, trying to play it cool.

Manon seemed to sense that something was off, because she lingered in the doorway, watching you with a curious expression. "Hey, is everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

You forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, everything's fine," you said, trying to sound casual. "Just studying for an exam."

Manon raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. But she didn't push the issue, just nodded and headed back downstairs.

As the day drew to a close, you couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if you'd confronted Manon about the conversation. Would she have confessed her feelings, or would she have brushed it off as a joke?

You shook your head, telling yourself that it was better to just let it go. But as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd missed an opportunity to explore something deeper with Manon.

The next morning, you woke up to find Manon already up and about, making breakfast in the kitchen. She smiled at you as you entered the kitchen, and you felt a flutter in your chest.

"Morning," she said, her voice bright. "I made pancakes."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over you. Maybe, just maybe, you'd imagined the whole thing.

But as you sat down to eat, you caught Manon watching you, a curious expression on her face. And you wondered, once again, what she was really thinking.

You decided to try to make small talk and see if you could get a read on Manon's feelings. As you sat down to eat, you asked her about her plans for the day.

Manon launched into a detailed explanation of her art project, telling you about the inspiration behind it and the techniques she was using. You listened intently, asking questions and making supportive noises.

As you chatted, you couldn't help but notice the way Manon's eyes sparkled when she talked about her art. She was so passionate about it, and it was infectious. You found yourself getting caught up in her enthusiasm, feeling a sense of excitement and creativity.

But despite the easy conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something underlying between you. You kept catching Manon looking at you, her expression soft and curious. And when you met her eye, she would quickly look away, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

You wondered if you were imagining things, if you were just reading too much into the situation. But as you continued to chat, you started to feel a sense of tension building between you. It was like there was a question hanging in the air, a question that neither of you was willing to ask.

As you finished up your breakfast, Manon suggested that you work on your respective projects together. She set up her easel in the living room, and you settled in at the kitchen table with your books and notes.

As you worked, the silence between you was comfortable, but you could sense the undercurrent of tension. You kept looking up to find Manon watching you, her eyes narrowed in concentration. And when you caught her eye, she would smile and look away, leaving you feeling frustrated and curious.

As the morning wore on, the tension between you started to feel almost palpable. You could sense that Manon was waiting for something, but you had no idea what. And as you worked, you found yourself wondering if you were brave enough to take the leap and find out.

Just as you were starting to feel like you couldn't take the tension anymore, Manon suddenly spoke up. "Hey, can I ask you something?" she said, her voice soft and tentative.

You looked up, your heart skipping a beat. "Of course," you said, trying to sound casual. "What's up?"

Manon hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth. And then, in a rush, she asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. You hadn't expected the question, and you didn't know how to respond. Part of you wanted to tell Manon the truth, to confess that you were single and interested. But another part of you was scared, scared of getting hurt and scared of ruining your friendship with Manon.

As you hesitated, Manon's face fell, and she looked away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Never mind," she muttered. "It's none of my business."

You felt a pang of regret, knowing that you'd missed an opportunity to be honest with Manon. But as you looked at her, you saw the tension in her shoulders, the vulnerability in her eyes. And you knew that you had to find a way to respond, to let her know that you valued her and your friendship.

You smiled softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Manon's arm. "Hey, don't worry about it," you said, trying to put her at ease. "I'm single, so you don't have to worry about stepping on anyone's toes."

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile as she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her eyes sparkled with relief, and she looked at you with a newfound sense of connection.

"Thanks for telling me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I can breathe again."

You chuckled and squeezed her arm gently. "Anytime," you said, smiling back at her. "I'm glad I could put your mind at ease."

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of tension dissipate. It was as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you could finally relax around each other.

Manon's smile faltered for a moment, and she looked at you with a curious expression. "Can I ask you something else?" she said, her voice hesitant.

You nodded, intrigued. "Of course," you said, leaning in slightly. "What's up?"

Manon took a deep breath before asking, "Would you like to grab coffee with me sometime? Just the two of us?"

You felt a flutter in your chest as you considered her question. It was clear that Manon was interested in spending more time with you, and you had to admit that you felt the same way.

You smiled, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility. "I'd love to grab coffee with you," you said, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she let out a little squeal of excitement. "Really?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with delight.

You nodded, feeling a sense of joy and connection. "Really," you said, smiling back at her.

Manon bounced up from the couch, her energy infectious. "I'll go get my phone and we can make plans," she said, already heading for the stairs.

As you watched her go, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. You had no idea what the future held, but you knew that you were looking forward to spending more time with Manon.

Manon returned with her phone and started scrolling through her calendar. "How about tomorrow afternoon?" she asked, looking up at you with a hopeful expression.

You nodded, feeling a sense of agreement. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect," you said, smiling back at her.

As you made plans, you couldn't help but notice the way Manon's eyes sparkled when she smiled, or the way her hair curled slightly at the edges. You felt a sense of attraction that you couldn't ignore, and you wondered if maybe, just maybe, this coffee date could be the start of something special.

As you finalized the plans, Manon looked up at you with a mischievous grin. "I'm really looking forward to tomorrow," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you met her gaze. "Me too," you said, smiling back at her.

As the day went on, you tried to play it cool and pretend like the coffee date was no big deal. You went about your routine, doing chores and studying, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Every so often, you'd catch yourself thinking about Manon and the way she smiled when she asked you out. You'd feel a flutter in your chest, and you'd quickly push the feeling aside, telling yourself that you were just being silly.

But as the hours ticked by, you started to wonder if you were reading too much into the situation. Maybe Manon just wanted to be friends, and you were overanalyzing everything. Maybe you were just caught up in the excitement of having someone to hang out with.

You tried to rationalize your feelings, telling yourself that it was okay to just enjoy the moment and not overthink things. But as you lay in bed that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Manon's invitation.

As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself wondering what the next day would bring. Would Manon be nervous and awkward, or would she be her usual confident self? And what would you do if she was just being friendly, and didn't actually have romantic feelings for you?

The questions swirled in your mind, keeping you awake for what felt like hours. Finally, you drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster you'd been on.

The next morning, you woke up feeling nervous and anxious. You got dressed and ready, trying to calm your nerves as you waited for Manon to come downstairs.

When she finally emerged, looking bright and cheerful in a yellow sundress, you felt your heart skip a beat. She smiled at you, and you smiled back, trying to play it cool.

"Hey," she said, breezing into the kitchen. "Ready for coffee?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

As you walked to the coffee shop, Manon chatted easily about everything from art to music to her favorite books. You listened, entranced, feeling like you were getting to know her on a deeper level.

But despite the easy conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this coffee date. Something that Manon wasn't telling you.

As you sat down at a small table outside, Manon leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm really glad you could make it today," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a flutter in your chest, and you leaned in, your heart pounding in your ears. "I'm glad I could make it too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of connection that you couldn't ignore. It was like the whole world had melted away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in a moment of pure possibility.

Just as it seemed like the moment was going to escalate into something more, Manon's phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming text. She groaned in frustration and pulled back, apologizing as she reached for her phone.

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you tried to play it cool, smiling and telling Manon to go ahead and answer the text. As she scrolled through her phone, her expression changed from relaxed to concerned.

"What's wrong?" you asked, feeling a sense of curiosity.

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to respond. "It's my friend Daniela," she said finally. "She's in town unexpectedly and wants to meet up."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of surprise. "Daniela? Isn't that the friend who was visiting the other day?" you asked.

Manon nodded, looking guilty. "Yeah, that's the one. I didn't expect her to come back to town so soon, but I guess she had a change of plans."

You felt a pang of disappointment, realizing that the coffee date was going to be cut short. But you tried to be understanding, smiling and telling Manon that it was okay.

As Manon texted Daniela back, you couldn't help but wonder what this unexpected visit meant. Was Daniela just passing through, or was there something more going on?

As you finished up your coffee, Manon looked up at you with a sheepish expression. "I'm so sorry about this," she said. "I feel like I'm abandoning you."

You smiled and reassured Manon that it was okay, that you understood. But as you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty. What did Daniela's visit mean for you and Manon? And would you ever get to finish what you started?

You smiled and told Manon that you understood, but you weren't interested in meeting up with Daniela. "It's okay, really," you said. "I've got some stuff I need to work on anyway."

Manon looked relieved, but also a little disappointed. "Okay, no worries," she said. "I'll catch up with you later, then."

You nodded and watched as Manon hurried off to meet up with Daniela. As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn't help but feel a little left out. You had been looking forward to spending more time with Manon, and now it seemed like that wasn't going to happen.

When you got back to your dorm, you decided to focus on your work and try to put the disappointment out of your mind. You spent the rest of the day studying and working on projects, and by the time evening rolled around, you were feeling more productive and less bothered by the earlier events.

As you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You opened it to find Manon standing in the hallway, looking a little sheepish.

"Hey," she said. "I'm sorry again for ditching you earlier. I feel like I owe you an explanation."

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what Manon had to say. "What's going on?" you asked, stepping aside to let her in.

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to start. "It's just...Daniela is going through a tough time right now," she said. "She's been having some personal issues, and I promised her I'd be there for her."

You nodded, feeling a surge of understanding. "That makes sense," you said. "I'm glad you're being a good friend to her."

Manon smiled, looking relieved. "Thanks for understanding," she said. "I promise I'll make it up to you soon."

As Manon turned to leave, you felt a pang of curiosity. What did Manon mean by "making it up" to you? And what exactly was going on between her and Daniela?

You decided to let the conversation drop, not wanting to pry into Manon's personal business. You smiled and nodded, telling her that you understood, and that you were just glad she was being a good friend to Daniela.

Manon smiled back, looking relieved, and you could tell that she was grateful for your understanding. You chatted for a few more minutes, catching up on each other's days, and then Manon said goodnight and headed back to her room.

As you got ready for bed, you couldn't help but think about the conversation you'd just had with Manon. You were glad that you'd been understanding and supportive, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder what was really going on with Daniela. Was she really just going through a tough time, or was there something more to it?

You pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that it was none of your business. You were just glad that Manon was being a good friend, and that was all that mattered.

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You were happy to have Manon as a friend, and you were grateful for the understanding and support that you'd shown each other.

The next day, you went about your routine as usual, attending classes and working on projects. You didn't see Manon until lunchtime, when you ran into her in the cafeteria.

She smiled and waved, and you joined her at her table. As you ate, you chatted about your morning, discussing everything from classes to TV shows.

Manon seemed a little more subdued than usual, but you couldn't tell if it was just because she was tired or if something was really bothering her. You asked her if everything was okay, and she nodded, smiling reassuringly.

But as you finished up your lunch and prepared to part ways, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Manon seemed a little more distant than usual, and you wondered if everything was really okay.

As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn't help but think about Manon and what might be bothering her. You told yourself that you were just being paranoid, that Manon was probably fine and you were just reading too much into things.

But as you went about your day, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. You found yourself wondering what was really going on with Manon, and whether you should try to talk to her about it.

You decided to give Manon some space, figuring that she'll come to you if she needs to talk about something. You went about your day as usual, attending classes and working on projects.

As the day went on, you couldn't help but think about Manon and what might be bothering her. You wondered if she was okay, and if there was anything you could do to help.

But you also didn't want to pry or push her to talk about something she wasn't ready to discuss. You figured that if she needed someone to talk to, she would come to you.

As the evening drew to a close, you headed back to your dorm, feeling a little more relaxed. You spent some time reading and watching TV, and then got ready for bed.

Just as you were drifting off to sleep, you heard a knock at the door. You got up to answer it, expecting it to be one of your friends or maybe a neighbor.

But when you opened the door, you were surprised to see Manon standing there, looking a little sheepish. "Hey," she said, "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

You shook your head, feeling a little curious. "No, it's fine," you said. "What's up?"

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to start. "I just wanted to talk to you about something," she said finally. "Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping aside to let Manon in. As she entered your room, you couldn't help but wonder what she wanted to talk about.

Was it something serious, or just something that was bothering her? And why had she come to you, instead of someone else?

As Manon sat down on your bed, looking a little nervous, you realized that you were about to find out.

You asked Manon what was on her mind, encouraging her to open up. "Hey, what's going on?" you said, trying to sound supportive. "You can tell me anything."

Manon took a deep breath, looking a little nervous. "It's just...I don't know how to say this," she said, hesitating. "But I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately. With school, and my art, and just life in general...I feel like I'm drowning."

You listened attentively, trying to offer a supportive ear. "I'm so sorry, Manon," you said. "That sounds really tough. But you know you can always talk to me, right? I'm here for you."

Manon smiled, looking a little relieved. "Thanks," she said. "Just talking to you makes me feel a little better. But there's something else...something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a little curious. "What is it?" you asked, trying to sound encouraging.

Manon took another deep breath, looking a little nervous. "I've been developing feelings for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know it may seem sudden, but I couldn't help the way I feel. And I wanted to be honest with you, even if it means risking our friendship."

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. You hadn't seen this coming, and you didn't know how to react.

You took a deep breath and told Manon that you felt the same way. "I've been feeling a connection with you too," you said, trying to sound calm. "I value our friendship, but I have to admit, I've been wondering if there's something more between us."

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Really?" she asked, her voice full of excitement.

You nodded, feeling a sense of joy and possibility. "Really," you said, smiling back at her.

Manon leaned in, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'm so glad," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long."

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of connection and understanding that you'd never felt before. It was like you'd been waiting for this moment for a long time, and now that it was finally here, you were ready to seize it.

Manon leaned in closer, her face inches from yours. You could feel the tension between you, the anticipation of what was to come.

And then, in a moment that felt like time standing still, Manon kissed you.

It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it sent shivers down your spine. You felt like you were melting into her, like you were becoming one person.

As you pulled back, gasping for air, you saw the smile on Manon's face. It was a smile of joy, of happiness, of love.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled back, feeling like you were on cloud nine. "I'm glad you did," you said, your voice filled with emotion.

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

You and Manon decided to go on a proper date, to celebrate your newfound feelings. You both agreed that it would be nice to get out of the dorm and explore the town.

Manon suggested a quaint little Italian restaurant that she had been wanting to try, and you agreed. You made a reservation for that evening, and spent the rest of the day counting down the hours until your date.

You felt a little nervous, but Manon's smile put you at ease. You were greeted by the hostess and led to your table, where you spent the next few hours enjoying delicious food and wine, and getting to know each other better.

The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself laughing and joking with Manon like you had known her for years. You talked about everything from your favorite books and movies, to your childhood memories and dreams for the future.

As the evening drew to a close, you walked Manon back to her dorm, feeling like you were on cloud nine. You had never felt such a strong connection with someone before, and you couldn't wait to see where things would go from here.

As you stood outside Manon's dorm, you turned to her and smiled. "I had an amazing time tonight," you said, your voice filled with sincerity.

Manon smiled back, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I had an amazing time too," she said. "Would you like to do it again sometime soon?"

You nodded eagerly, feeling like you were floating on air. "Definitely," you said. "How about tomorrow night?"

Manon laughed, a playful glint in her eye. "You're eager, aren't you?" she teased.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "Maybe just a little," you admitted.

Manon smiled, her expression softening. "I like that," she said. "Tomorrow night sounds perfect."

As you leaned in to kiss her goodnight, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

—

You finished getting dressed in your usual baggy outfit, feeling comfortable and relaxed. You headed downstairs, where Manon was waiting for you, looking stylish and put-together as always.

"Ready?" she asked, smiling at you.

You nodded, and Manon held out her hands, expecting you to take them. You felt a little flutter in your chest as you intertwined your fingers with hers, feeling a sense of excitement and nervousness.

Manon led the way, walking confidently through the dorm and out into the cool evening air. You followed her, feeling a sense of trust and reliance on her. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, and you were happy to follow her lead.

As you walked to the cinema, Manon chatted easily about her day, telling you about her classes and her friends. You listened attentively, feeling grateful for her presence in your life.

When you arrived at the cinema, Manon bought your tickets and led you to the concession stand. "What do you want to eat?" she asked, smiling at you.

You shrugged, feeling a little indecisive. "Whatever you want," you said.

Manon laughed and ordered a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas. You carried the snacks while Manon led the way to the theater.

As you found your seats and settled in for the movie, Manon reached for your hand again, intertwining your fingers with hers. You felt a sense of comfort and security, knowing that she was there with you.

As the movie started, you and Manon settled in, watching the opening scenes with interest. But as the film progressed, you found yourself becoming more and more aware of Manon's presence beside you.

You felt her hand in yours, her fingers intertwined with yours in a gentle but firm grasp. You felt her arm against yours, her shoulder brushing against yours as you both laughed at a funny moment in the movie.

As the tension in the film built, you found yourself leaning in closer to Manon, your heads almost touching as you both watched the screen with rapt attention. You could feel her warm breath on your skin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Manon seemed to sense your movement, and she turned to you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. You met her gaze, feeling a jolt of electricity as your eyes locked.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the movie forgotten. Then, without thinking, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Manon's in a soft, gentle kiss.

Manon's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed you back, her lips warm and inviting. You felt a rush of excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you deepened the kiss.

The movie played on, forgotten, as you and Manon lost yourselves in the moment. You kissed for what felt like hours, the world around you melting away as you focused on the sensation of Manon's lips against yours.

Finally, you pulled back, gasping for air. Manon's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she smiled, her lips still warm from your kiss.

"I guess we got a little distracted," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "Just a little," you replied, your voice equally soft.

Manon leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I don't mind," she whispered. "I liked it."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Manon's warm breath tickled your ear. You turned to her, your eyes locking with hers in a sparkling gaze.

You and Manon decided to get a little more romantic, sharing another kiss or two in the darkness of the theater. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Manon's in a soft, gentle kiss.

Manon's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed you back, her lips warm and inviting. You felt a rush of excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you deepened the kiss.

As you kissed, you felt a sense of connection with Manon that you'd never felt before. It was like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, and you knew that you were meant to be together.

Finally, you pulled back, gasping for air. Manon's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she smiled, her lips still warm from your kiss.

"I think we've made our point," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "I guess we have," you replied, your voice equally soft.

Manon leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I'm so glad we did," she whispered. "I feel like I've been waiting for this moment for so long."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Manon's warm breath tickled your ear. You turned to her, your eyes locking with hers in a sparkling gaze.

"I'm glad too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion.

As the movie came to an end, you and Manon reluctantly pulled apart, smiling at each other like fools. You knew that this was just the beginning of something special, something that would change your life forever.

You walked out of the theater hand in hand, feeling like you were on top of the world. You knew that you had found your soulmate in Manon, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for you both.

As you strolled through the quiet streets, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. You knew that you had found your perfect match, and you were grateful for every moment you spent with Manon.

And as you looked into her eyes, you knew that you would love her forever.

#Katseye #katseye fluff #katseye x reader #katseye x female reader #katseye fanfic #Katseye manon #manon x reader #manon fluff #katseye manon x reader

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idkwhatever580 · 9 months ago

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I would die happy

Pairings: teen!Natasha Romanoff x teen!reader

Song Inspiration: very loosely based off of the songs Casual by Chappell Roan and Ashley by Zolita (They’re good to listen to before hand but not necessary. I’ll link them)

Prompt: what happens when “good girl” y/n breaks it off with “bad girl” Natasha and Natasha realizes she needs y/n more than she thought?

Warnings:mentions of sex, angst then fluff, mentions of death? (From the song).

Pronouns: unspecified (one use of ma’am but in a silly way)

A/N: No this is not an actual songfic. I just took inspiration from the songs so there might be a line or five in the mix. I have had these songs stuck in my head the past few days and I kept imagining like a teen romance coming out of it? Idk. Hopefully I write this better than the last one 😭

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Y/n’s pov

I am in my room doing my homework when I hear tapping on my window. I look up from my neat desk to see Natasha.

My instinct is to smile and open the window up but I freeze.

Natasha Romanoff.

Bad girl. She vandalizes things. She doesn’t participate. And she dresses like a fuck boy.

Some call her a player. Some call her a cheater.

Whatever they think there’s one thing everyone can agree on. Natasha romanoff does not do relationships.

She’s usually the one night stand type of girl but then she met me. And that’s when everyone says she went soft. She never fucked another girl other than me.

But that’s all. For half a year. All she’s ever done is sex, aftercare, leave, repeat.

Another set of tapping falls upon my ears and I zone back in. I open the window and whisper

“What are you doing here?”

Natasha crawls in and says

“Wanted to see you. You alright there? You zoned out for a sec”

I nodded my head and my eyes fall upon her necklace. It’s silver with a little arrow.

I hate myself when I think of it. I nod my head and say

“Yeah. Totally fine. Just doing some homework”

I sit back down at my desk even though I know why Natasha is here.

After a whole 6 months of this it’s hard to not know what her routine is. But I don’t want it anymore.

Obviously I caught feelings. Who wouldn’t catch feelings for her? I just thought that I would get over it. I thought that having some of her is better than none of her at all right?

Wrong.

I cry so much now. All I want is for her to love me back. But that’s not reality. She doesn’t do love. She doesn’t do relationships. And I can’t do it anymore.

Natasha walks up behind me and rubs her hands down my arms and starts kissing my neck. My body lets her do it but then I think about it and take her hands off me.

“Not tonight. I have to study”

She doesn’t let up. Because usually I like playing hard to get. So she doesn’t know. And that’s okay. It’s my fault she doesn’t know.

“I can help you relax baby”

I roll my eyes at the pet name and say

“Natasha. Can we talk?”

She stands up straighter at my use of her full name and says

“Yeah. Sure”

I can tell she is a bit surprised at me but she nods her head nevertheless.

She sits down at the foot of my bed and I roll my chair over to her.

I sigh and look at the ground.

“I don’t know how to say this, but I can’t do this anymore Natasha”

She furrows her eyebrows and says

“You can’t do what?”

“This Natasha,”

I point at her and myself

“I hate myself for letting this drag on so long because I know you. I know you don’t want a relationship. But I lo- I like you Natasha. And I want you. All to myself. I want labels and I want to go to the pier together and eat popsicles and I want you to tell your friends and I want a future with you.”

I can tell I’m overwhelming her with this information but I keep going

“But you don’t want that. And that’s okay! I understand that some things aren’t meant to last. But I can’t keep hurting myself for some fun okay? I need to heal and move on. And you can go find another toy to play with and that’s okay. I just can’t be the one you go to anymore. It’s not what I want. And our ideals clearly do not align. I thought maybe I could do it and be able to handle all of this but I can’t.”

I tear up a bit

“I can’t be casual with you. I want feelings attached and I want you to myself but you don’t want me like that. So I need to cut it off.”

I finally finish my rant and I look down feeling embarrassed.

“I’m sorry”

I apologize and she shakes her head

“Don’t apologize. I get it.”

We sit there for a minute of awkward silence and she sighs and says

“I guess I should go then”

I nod my head and sniffle a bit. She lingers like she has something to say but she ultimately leaves and on her way out of my window she says

“I’ll see you at school I guess”

I nod my head.

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It’s been a week since I cut it off with Natasha and I look rough. My friends are worried about me but I tell them I’m fine.

Even some of my teachers have asked if I’m okay. Of course I lie to them. But it’s nice to know someone cares.

I have avoided Natasha at all costs. But I still find myself thinking about her.

Her arrow necklace. God I hate myself when I think of it. Because then I think of her. And then I start crying. Or I just shut down.

Yes. I may or may not have almost said I love you the night I cut it off with her. But I didn’t want her to have to hold all of my baggage. It’s not fair. She doesn’t like me like that. And she doesn’t deserve to feel guilty for what I feel.

My friend Emerald walks up to me during a free period and she says

“Hey did you see Natasha today?”

I shake my head and say

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

She shakes her head and says

“Well you’re gonna have to listen. She is the talk of the school right now so either you hear it from me or someone else.”

I roll my eyes and say

“What Em? Does she have a new toy hanging on her shoulder?”

Clearly I’m a little ticked off about having to hear about her.

But em shakes her head and I look at her and wait for her to continue

“She’s wearing your hoodie”

I look at her and say

“My hoodie? She doesn’t have any of my clothes, except for that bra that I’ll probably never get back”

She takes out her phone and shows me my favorite hoodie. It’s the pink one that I got from the thrift store. They all knew it was mine because it has em’s name on the sleeve. And a duck on the front.

I remember now. I forgot it at her house one time after she fucked me in her beach house. That was the day everyone found out and started talking about how I’m just a girl she fucked on her couch.

I cried so much that I forgot about it. And of course she just came over to make me forget about all the things people said.

I look at her and say

“Why would she ever wear that?”

She wiggles her eyebrows at me and says

“She obviously likes you y/n”

I roll my eyes and say

“She doesn’t like me Em. From the beginning everyone has known she doesn’t do crushes.”

Em shrugs her shoulders and says

“People can change.”

I roll my eyes and get a little frustrated and say

“Leave it Em. I don’t want to talk about it.”

She puts her hands up in surrender and leaves it at that.

The rest of the day goes by slowly. But I catch a glimpse of Natasha at the end of the day. She is wearing my hoodie. She looks good in it. But she shouldn’t be wearing that. I’m not hers. And she’s not mine.

I quickly leave so she doesn’t see me. Even though we definitely made eye contact. But it’s whatever.

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It’s about 8 pm now and I’m studying again. This final is about to make or break me so I can’t let myself loosen the reigns even though it’s only a midterm.

I have my headphones on and I’m listening to classical because it apparently helps people study. I’m honestly doing anything to help me.

A hand taps my shoulder and I jump up quickly but thankfully I don’t yell.

I turn around quickly and see Natasha standing there.

I immediately get frustrated and say

“What are you doing here?”

I take a second to actually look at her and she looks like shit. Honestly she is looking at me like a lost puppy. Like she hasn’t been in my room for six months. Her hair is a mess, shes still in my hoodie, and the bags under her eyes indicate that she hasn’t been sleeping well. I almost feel bad for her. Then I remember I can’t let my feelings get in the way. She says

“I um… I wanted to talk to you”

I sigh and say

“Well what is it? I’m listening?”

I feel bad for being so short with her but I can’t do it any other way or else I’ll break down.

She kind of stands there for a second and I sit down on my bed and pat it. I might as well be nice to her. She’s not a horrible person anyways.

She shakes her head slightly and keeps standing. I look at her and say

“You wanted to talk?”

She nods her head and says

“I don’t know how to say this but… I- I need you y/n”

I have never seen Natasha cry once. But she immediately breaks down in front of me

“I can’t do this without you. I need you so bad I just want all of you. I thought that if I convinced myself that it was for the better, that if I said I wanted this it would come true. But it’s not true I- I love you and I know you are probably over me by now and that’s okay I just need to tell you that I want you and only you. I know I’ve never done anything like this but I want to I want to change. I want to be good. For you. I want to take you on dates and tell everyone about you. And I don’t think I can do this without you because life is like a bad dream without you and I didn’t even realize what I had until I lost it!”

She starts crying. I start tearing up at her confession and I say

“Stop it. Stop it Natasha.”

It’s short and snippy because I’m about to cry.

“You can’t just say those things and pull at my heart just to get into my pants okay? I’m sorry that nobody wanted to get with you but I cannot just go crawling back to you if you just lie to me to get me back”

She looks at me and she shakes her head aggressively and says

“No. No I don’t. I don’t want to get into your pants I actually love you. I didn’t even know it because I’ve never felt love before y/n. Please you have to understand me I love you. I love you so much and I want a future with you. I was just scared but I’m not scared anymore I want you!”

She drops to her knees and tries to calm down a bit and says

“I understand if you don’t want me but I want you. I want to be your girlfriend. I want to introduce you to my friends and family. And- and I know my past doesn’t help anything. My reputation is probably your biggest fear but I can’t imagine my life without it. I’ve never been the sappy type but I’m telling the truth. If loving you kills me then I will die happy y/n”

I look at her from my bed and I see the genuine look in her eyes. I tear up again and the I get down from my bed and she looks down. It’s like she’s worshipping me. Like if she doesn’t she might lose me.

I envelope her in a hug and she starts crying into me. And I say

“Tell me that you love me and you won’t leave me.”

She looks at me with tears running down her face and her nose is sniffly and she says with such confdence

“I love you y/n. Nothing can change that. I won’t ever leave you. Not even if I could. I want to be yours”

I smile at her as she waits for me to answer and I grab her head and lean into her. I kiss her.

This kiss is different than any other kiss I’ve ever shared with her. It’s soft and tender. And full of love. I don’t even care that her tears and boogers are getting on me.

I don’t care. I just love her. I pull away and giggle and she kind of sits in criss cross. And I say

“Natasha. I love you too. I’ve loved you for a while now. I was just scared to say it.”

She sends me a dopey smile. I’ve never seen her smile at me like that. I like it. So I boop her nose and say

“Cute.”

She scrunches up her nose and says

“I’m everything but cute right now.”

I shake my head and say

“You’re always cute.”

I kiss her again after she wipes her face off and it’s sweet. I pull her into my lap and she says

“I don’t like this.”

Normally I guess she would be more comfortable with me on her lap. But I don’t care.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to suck it up.”

We sit on my floor for a bit and I say

“Oh shit! It’s late.”

I check the time and say

“It’s nine o’clock already! You have to get home baby”

She stops at the nickname and says

“Wait. So… are we?”

I giggle and say

“After all of that? There’s no way we’re not dating. So yes. I’m gonna call you baby. But you need to go home and I need sleep”

She smiles and says

“Can I have a hug before I go?”

I nod my head and pull her in for a long hug.

I kiss her head and then her nose and then her lips and say

“I love you. Now go. I’ll pick you up for school tomorrow?”

She usually walks to school and I drive but I want to pick her up now. She nods her head and I stop her before she leaves my window and I say

“And I want my hoodie back.”

She laughs softly and says

“No way. It’s mine now.”

Then I pull her back in to me and distract her with a kiss. I say

“Well then. I guess this is mine now”

I swiftly pull the hoodie she has on right now off of her and she pouts and says

“Aw man. That’s a good hoodie.”

I smile and say

“Only the best for me right?”

She smiles finally and nods her head and I say

“Text me when you get home okay?”

She nods her head and says

“Yes ma’am”

I giggle and shake my head. I watch as she walks off into the night and I hop onto my bed and cuddle my stuffed animal with a bright smile on my face.

All of that heartache must have been worth it.

She was right. If loving her kills me, then I would die happy.

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A/N: I actually kind of like how this one turned out. I know I pulled from the songs a lot but at least it was built into the words and not like a normal songfic lol. Because I’ve heard that many people do not like songfics :)

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #fanfic #avengers

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spiriteddreams · 2 months ago

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love to keep me warm

"there's nothing sweeter, finer, when it's nice and cold. i can hold my baby closer to me, and collect the kisses that are due me" — love to keep me warm (laufey and dodie) notes: wriothesley x reader, for the holidays <3 words: 1.2k

"well, well, what do we have here?" you freeze in your spot, arms suddenly stiff as your hands tighten around the box in your hands, resting on his desk. he's not supposed to be there. well, you're not supposed to be there, it's his office after all, but he's not supposed to be back yet.

wriothesley’s office in the fortress of meropide is exactly how one would expect it to be. cold and dark, with the only light coming from the warm yellow glow of the lights by his desk and during the day, the sea-filtered light from above. his bookshelves are lined with folders that are stuffed with documents, pressed against books offered to the duke as gifts that you're sure he hasn't touched since tucking them in there. the couch and coffee table along the side are still decorated with a kettle and cups, though neatly stacked, waiting to be used. everything was neat, orderly, in place, just as he preferred things to be down in the fortress.

except for his desk. his messy, unkept, paper strewn desk whose wooden surface was practically unseeable with all the papers that had piled up. naturally, this was nothing new. while wriothesley could keep everything else in place, his desk was the one thing that seldom remained neat. it was your fault for thinking that you could help him clean up quickly, drop off the gift, and leave.

"sneaking around now, are you?" you can hear the growing smile in his voice. you straighten up and prepare to turn around to face him when two arms snake around your waist, tightening for a moment before wrapping around your body. the warmth from his own envelops yours as you feel his hair tickle your neck. wriothesley’s presence behind you is nothing but comforting, tucking you in closer to his own.

you can feel the press of his accessories against your body. though protected, you can still feel the bite of cold from the metal that crests on his chest. if you turned around, not that he’d let you when he’s so triumphantly caught his prey, you’d see that he’d loosed his tie upon seeing you in his office, fussing over his desk.

clearing your throat you admit, "i thought you were busy this morning. clorinde said you wouldn't return until noon."

"my dear, it is noon,” he hums. you hesitate, surely it couldn't be, you had come to drop off the box nearly half an hour before... you were distracted by his messy desk. his gift sits in front of you, and with the way wriothesley crowds you into his desk, there’s no hiding it from him.

"so, care to explain what you're doing sneaking around places you're not supposed to be?" you know he's staring down at the box on his desk, eyes tracing over the delicately tied ribbon that tops it off.

you roll your eyes and straighten when he doesn't let you move away, "i came to drop this off. it's a gift for you.”

"i can see that."

you're going to give clorinde a piece of your mind the next time you see her. you should have known not to trust her nonchalance. she had smiled upon you informing her about the surprise gift you wanted to leave for the duke, shrugging when you added that you were going to sneak in his office while he was gone. of course she knew this was going to happen.

"well, are you going to give it to me?" you can feel his hands itching to pluck the gift from your hands. with your back to his chest and his hair falling onto your clothes his expression is hidden from you, but knowing wriothesley, you can imagine the smug expression on his face. the ends of his lips must be curling up in triumph as you sigh in defeat. he steps back to give you space, waiting as you turn with the box in hand to present to him. before he takes it, he motions for you to sit up on his desk, one hand helping you balance yourself as he steps closer, your knees brushing against his thighs. you offer him the gift again and to your surprise, he doesn’t take it. instead he stares at it for a moment before looking back up at you.

“but i can think of a better gift,” wriothesley’s wolfish grin is triumphant as you inhale sharply at his words and try to suppress the smile that tugs at your lips.

you fail to scowl at him, “you’re shameless. some duke of the fortress of meropide you are.” wriothesley laughs loudly in response to your words. despite the cold of his office from being unused for the morning, wriothesley fills it with warmth. you let your fingers find his loosened tie and tug him forward. the look he gives you beneath his lashes is nothing short of what could be described as adoration. his hands find their way to rest on his desk, caging you in and tempting you at the same time. he’s all sly words and gentle touches, teasing with his actions and goading you into giving into his antics.

“you can have this gift first,” you bring the gift up between the two of you. the duke sighs dramatically but takes it from your hands nonetheless. he tries to weigh it subtly, running his mind through any possibility of what it might be. it’s lighter than he expected, but he wastes no time in unpackaging it. nimble fingers undo the ribbon, which he teasingly tosses over your shoulder, murmuring about reusing it later, for another gift.

it’s a tea flight set, with specialties from the nations across teyvat. wriothesley laughs softly and looks up at you, his expression giving away his excitement over the variety of new options. he tries to think if there were any signs that he had dropped about looking for new teas but he can’t think of any, as far as he could remember, he had only thought it to himself. perhaps he had written it somewhere and lost it in his pile of papers, the same papers that you seem content to help him organize every once in awhile.

“thank you, dear,” the features on his face soften. you return his smile and reply that you’d been looking for something special for him, for all the hard work that he’s been going.

“and besides, with the colder weather coming around, i’m sure the fortress will get a bit chillier,” you explain. wriothesley is quiet for a moment. and the moment you see him perk up you know something is coming.

“well i can think of—“ you promptly shut him up with a kiss, and wriothesley, cheeky as ever, can’t help but smile into the kiss. if this is what it’s like to receive a gift from you, he’ll have to tell clorinde to give you a wrong time to come by. this time was by chance, but next time, he’ll be more than prepared to catch you off guard and maybe with a gift of his own for you. clorinde can share some of his special teas if she can make this happen again. after all, it’s more than worth it to have you wrapped up in his arms like this.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3 notes: someone yell at me to finish my finals.. my head is empty.. i am just an academic victim who is suddenly being hit with writing ideas this is not good i just need to get through this week !!

#genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #genshin impact wriothesley #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

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bayetea · 29 days ago

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jason and hazel's beef in hoo was always way more interesting than whatever percy and jason had going on sorry. the differences in gravity and intrigue in the jason/hazel relationship vs jason/percy are only further compounded by the ways they're connected and the ways that their stories are similar

because 1. they have a HISTORY they knew each other before he went missing!!!!! they were in the fifth cohort together!!!! hazel is the ONLY person on that ship that was in jason's life before he disappeared and had his memories stolen. yes they didn't know each other well but I really think that was a bad writing choice rick made. can you imagine if they used to be friends/if jason had been a big brother figure to hazel only to go missing for months and then they have a very awkward reunion on the argo because he barely remembers her and then she's even more betrayed because he doesn't wanna save nico initially. the drama. we could have had it all man

2. beef between a son of poseidon and a child of zeus/jupiter from the grace family? yeah been there done that why are we doing this again. god I wish we had gotten a big fight between a child of jupiter and a child of pluto instead

3. their beef regarding nico was way more high stakes than the silly alpha male posturing rick was trying to force between jason and percy especially considering how mega nerfed jason is written in hoo because no one's allowed to be on equal footing with percy

4. the tacit layer of betrayal in jason being hazel's ex-centurion/praetor only to end up choosing chb (to be clear this particular conflict belongs to jason and reyna and is more impactful between them - but since hazel is actually on the argo and reyna isn't she can still be an opportunity for this camp jupiter/camp half-blood conflict to be explored with jason)

5. I'm just gonna say it - I think hazel ought to have complicated feelings about white authority figures in a military camp as a black girl from the freaking jim crow era (not that this would have ever been explored satisfactorily in the books because as far as rick is concerned hazel is colorblind and hardly ever thinks about race despite growing up segregated. which is crazy unrealistic but whatever)

6. something something about the parallels that jason and hazel have about making hard choices about their pasts in order to have a more fulfilling future

7. this isn't necessarily interesting in and of itself but I just think it's neat that they're both big three roman kids with greek siblings that they didn't grow up with. what could have been interesting is jason seeing how close hazel and nico are and feeling some type of way about everything he never got to have with thalia and some exploration into how that impacts his feelings about the rescue mission

8. they both have really awkward romantic conflicts in their pasts that intrude upon the present (whether he and reyna were ever even slightly romantically involved or not) because the jason/reyna thing is written as a initial source of conflict/uncertainty for jiper in the same way that hazel/leo (sammy) was a conflict for frazel to grapple with. this is interesting to me because hazel is connected to reyna and jason is connected to leo. like there could have been a moment of connection over letting go of pasts loves to wholeheartedly pursue new ones in the way that both of them are (were) with piper and frank

(unrelated but having no frank or hazel pov in mark of athena sucks So Bad and I hate it. it was the first time they ever have relationship problems and we only see it through someone else's pov. I am going to bring this up forever because I'm still mad about it)

9. they both died. this bullet is a joke but I just thought I should put it here

10. percy is a well-established character and hazel and jason are new in hoo. percy has 50 povs in hoo and hazel has 28. economically speaking it would just be a more effective use of your limited pages to spend more time developing important interactions and conflicts between two new characters (esp new big three kids) who already have a more interesting foundation than the one involving our previous protagonist of 5 entire books

11. beryl grace and marie levesque. that's all

imo hazel and jason are the most weirdly written new additions to the main cast but I strongly feel that rick severely underutilized the way that characters like those two could play off of each other. hazel isn't just a sweet little cinnamon roll she is passionate and contemplative and morose and guilt-ridden and jason isn't just a bland rule-follower he is kind and committed and loyal and conflicted and they're both painfully self-sacrificing and I just think it's such a shame that these two characters with great concepts on paper and so many obvious threads to connect them didn't get as much as attention as.... whatever happened in kansas did

and I mean if you like the jason/percy conflict that's fine, but I think it's worthwhile to compare the merit of them because rick chose to centralize and build up to one more than the other when he had such perfect material to expand on the other instead and I think that says something about his biases. and I think part of the issue is that rick struggles with strengthening tension and applying complexity to conflicts between male/female characters that aren't romantic or onesidedly antagonistic like clarisse/percy. we have several noteworthy conflicts between male characters but when women are involved it's like rick doesn't know how to put them on equal footing and apply platonic depth. imo this is just another reason why big three girls (hazel/thalia/bianca) don't get to be as powerful and transformative in the overall narrative as big three guys (percy/jason/nico). all this world-changing narrative weight is afforded to big three kids but hazel in particular is weirdly excluded from all of that and doesn't get to have much impactful interconnectedness with the prophecy or with other big three kids. what happened to big three kids being super dangerous when put together or when they're on opposing sides of conflicts!!!!!!!! we had impactful percy/thalia and percy/nico and jason/percy and jason/nico conflict where is the fleshed out jason/hazel beef!!!!!!

anyways tldr all I'm saying is that jason and hazel complement each other well and rick was too hung up on the Colliding Of Alpha Male Strong Dudes (that he didn't even write well) to see everything that hazel and jason could have had instead

#make no mistake I am Always thinking about jason and hazel #the hazel/jason cliff scene was Not enough. it doesn't satisfactorily resolve anything either #look I love percabeth in tartarus I know it's iconic but can you imagine if the jason/hazel beef culminated in them falling into tartarus #children of jupiter and pluto who don't get along in the deepest depths of the underworld? god. the drama #(points at jason) Put that boy in hell this instant /j #yes I know it was crucial for hazel to Not Be in tartarus in hoh but look. with some creativity we can make it work #hazel can discover her potential with magic in tartarus somehow hecate doesn't need to be involved tbh #jason and hazel's most popularly discussed dynamics are with other people but I just think jason fans and hazel fans need to come together #and chew on all of this for a bit because hoo failed them and they're so interesting together #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #hazel levesque #jason grace #rr crit #leo valdez #nico di angelo #reyna avila ramirez arellano #toa spoilers #the burning maze spoilers #the trials of apollo spoilers #piper mclean #thalia grace

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blushingdread · 1 month ago

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The thing about Cold that gets me the most is that Cold barely gives a fuck about any of the vessels, the only one he feels anything about is Fury, and he talks about how he hopes your actions put the Adversary's spark out. This man is a little asshole who doesn't care about anything. Anything but change

What does Cold hate the most? Boredom, endless nothingness, doing the same thing over and over again... which is sorta of what he is. Both in the sense that he's a part of the Long Quiet, God of all those things, but also because Cold is the most stagnant of all the voices. He's resistant to pain, emotions, changing, everything except boredom, really. The only time he's ever changed changed is in Molment of Clarity, where he's a lot more terse and seems annoyed the entire time

On top of that, Cold is the most comfortable and intuitive about your godly nature. Poping in at the Tower Fury fight when she calls you noting and he immediately is like "yes,". When going into oblivion, he says it feels like home. He seems to be kinda subconsciously aware of what you are in a way the other voices aren't

So, Cold. The voice that most embodies stagnation, being frozen in time if you will, that seems to grasp the true nature of TLQ the best absolutely hates boredom and is constantly seeking out change. He's constantly seeking out their other half, the Shifting Mound

I think that in the same Wild and Stanger are "a smaller version of me" and "a peek behind the curtain" to the Shifting Mound, Cold is like that to the Long Quiet. He is kinda like TLQ at its most basic, cold, and unmoving, constantly seeking the waves of change to crash upon him. Constantly seeking her, while she constantly seeks him, going around and around getting what their missing from each other

But thats not all!!

Cold talks like the Shifting Mound. They share similar thoughts on what exactly "the end of the world" means

They also feel similarly about all the horrible things that happen during the game

Cold doesn't care if what he's doing is good or bad, good or bad don't even register on his radar. The only thing that matters to him is new and interesting experiences

A perspective that's also surprisingly close to how the Shifitng Mound feels except she's affected by her emotions and about the other person in this lol

I don't really have an end point with this, I just think the Cold and Shifting Mound are neat

It's just. So !!!!!!! that the most Long Quiet nothingness voice is both super into their other half as her entire domain and not just a single vessel and sees the world in a parallel way

What if there was a part of me that was so much like you that loved you more than anything that seeked you out in everything??? What then

BTW, can you imagine Cold and Wild together? Cold being plugged into eveyrhing? Connected to the Princess in the most direct way possible. Change would be constantly happening around him because he'd be interconnected to her. He'd be able to feel it all, and maybe her powers would even push through his eternal apathy and make him feel something like Fury did, but even more

Would Wild like that? Like him? Having a rock to wrap around and anchor herself to? Cold doesn't really feel hate except for the Narrator, so him getting mad at her wouldn't knock them out of being connected to each other. Would she drop her sorta mind control that made the voices much more willing to go along with being one than they frankly would otherwise because of this trait of Colds? Would she find his apathetic temperament comforting and grounding, able to keep her from violently trashing from calm to agitated

Unsure, but it think they'd have an interesting dynamic

#slay the princess #stp #slay the princess the voice of the cold #stp voice of the cold #stp cold #slay the princess the wild #stp wild #slay the princess shifting Mound #stp shifting mound #shifting mound #voice of the cold

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puckingeccedentesiast · 3 months ago

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Concrete Impressions

Quinn x Reader!oc

Word Count: 1.3

Authorial Note: I hope you like it! This is basically the precursor fic to Cradle Me! I am making this an au, this is a little bit on how Quinn and Cookie meet! I will be making a part two to this fic!

TW: Not edited, swearing.

The day Quinn encountered you was the day he knew there was no one else for him. It was a warm autumn day on campus, though there was a significant breezing blowing with a spiteful chill. Your brown hair was tucked away in a neat plait down your back, a brown wide- ribbed sweater overlapping your dark patterned jeans which were rolled up over the top of your sneakers. You were waiting at the coffee cart, behind half-a-dozen people in line for their daily sustenance as well. Quinn watched from a table where he was placed, surrounded by a large group of his friends... well of some them were, other acquaintances, such as the sophomore girl who was trying desperately to giggle her way under his skin formed the majority of the numbers in the group. As you inched closer to the little counter at the front of the cart a blonde man, clearly impatient bumped into you. Quinn watched with wide eyes as you toppled over, books in hand spilling onto the dirty brick footpath.

Quinn had watched the young man who, essentially bumped you from your place in the line, stepped up to the vendor and ordered his drink. It troubled Quinn deeply that this young man had little to no regard for what he had done, or who he had done it too. At this point in time you didn't even know Quinn existed, or that he had singlehandedly decided that he need to know you, know if you could be the one. Because as he watched you part your hair from you face, tucking the unruly strands behind your ears as you pulled yourself and your books up from the ground, brushing the debris off your knees, Quinn knew that he needed to be the prince in your fairytale.

"Quinny! Where are you going!" the blonde girl, previously wrapping herself around his arm, nuzzling into his shoulder whined. This drew some attention from other members of the group, the watched as Quinn peeled the girl from his arm and quickly half walked, half jogged to where you were still trying to fix yourself up.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Quinn crouched down next to you, when you looked up at him, wide caramel eyes and a charismatic smile on your face he swear he almost melted.

"Oh! Yeah.. yes." you puffed out with a small laugh, "Just a bit of a topsy terby morning!"

Quinn was amazed at your optimism, it seemed like you were going to let the little situation upset the rest of your day. "Could I buy you a coffee?"

"Oh! You do not have to do that, I was purely just trying to get a small caffeine hit before my next class." you spoke, slinging your bag onto your shoulder, "Maybe even one of their amazing double fudge brownie cookies."

Quinn's lips tipped up in a small smile, "Don't ya think all of that chocolate is a-"

"Bit sweet?" you cut him off and Quinn nodded, letting out a breathy laugh, "I know. I love it though, especially when they heat it so the inside is all gooey!"

"I take it you like sweet things?" Quinn asked.

"You could say that!" you giggled back at him in response, stepping forward in line to the front, Quinn following beside you as you turned to the barista who was holding a cup and nico pen ready to take your order. "Could I please have.. a dirty chai on almond? Would you like anything?"

Quinn was surprised when she turned and asked if he wanted something, he stumbled out, “I’ll have a flat white.. two shots, two sugars please.”

Quinn smiles to himself airily, ‘she’s as gracious she is courteous.’ After shaking off his daze he spoke, “Didn’t you also want one of those… death by chocolate cookies?”

“Oh yes! Could I please have one of your double chocolate brownie cookies?” you asked, “Could you heat it up too please?”

The barista nodded and turned away to make your coffees and to retrieve the fabled cookie. Standing there Quinn realised he didn’t actually know your name, nor what you were studying. Just that you liked cookies and had a killer sweet tooth.

“So Cookie, do you have a name or am I gonna have to call ya that?” Quinn stated, breaking the ice.

“My name is Y/N, but you can call me Cookie if you would like stranger.” Y/N smiled back, eyes gleaming with humour.

“My name is Quinn.” He corrected. “You mentioned having class soon? Can I ask what you have?”

“Well Quinn.. I have modern history next.” You spoke, quietly thanking the barista as she passed over the two coffees and the box holding chocolate lava-y goodness. Together the both of you gravitated away from the cart, moving back in the direction of where Quinn was originally sitting. The group still crowding the tables.

“With Professor Ryan?” Quinn questioned hopefully, he had modern history next as well, was this his lucky day?

“Yeah! In the Carsledine building!” You took a sip of the steaming beverage in your hand, the other still holding the cookie box to your chest.

”I have MH too! Would you want to sit together in his lecture?” Quinn leaned over and grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, exchanging a Quick handshake with a mate of his.

“Sure! I don’t normally sit with anyone but.. I guess things can change.” Y/N smiled, walking alongside with Quinn through the campus courtyard, taking note of the amount of female attention he received.

Quinn let Cookie slide in the door before he did, holding it open for her as she stepped into the expansive lecture hall. He followed her small frame as she nimbly weaved her way through the rows of fold up chairs. Cookie approached the the left side of the lecture hall, the wall was interrupted by a humongous window, offering an extensive view over the rest of the campus. Rain clouds hung low today, dew covered the bare branches of the deciduous trees. Quinn sat down next to her, he admired her gorgeous face as she pulled her iPad out of her bag. Quinn noted the way she meticulously set up her note taking page with her screen pen, placing in all the text boxes and writing headings out. She pulled a keyboard attachment out of her bag, navy coloured too. Being around you Quinn's gaze sharpened and his body longed to know every detail he could, like the fact that navy appeared to be a favoured colour. The glasses that you had delicately slid onto the bridge of your nose were a deep shade of navy blue with gold arms. The scrunchie you were tucking your long shimmering hair into a ponytail with. Your phone case, iPad case and keyboard as well as the colour of the ink she wrote onto the digital page with were all the same blue.

"Do you like sports?" Quinn had one channel of small talk he could always revert back too, and he was damned sure he was going to use it.

"I don't mind sports!" Cookie replied, looking up from the screen she was writing on, "I like skiing, cross country specifically none of that moguls business. I also run too, cross country as well!"

"Are you on the track and field team?" he asked, curious.

"I am! I captain the track team!" Cookie looked over at Quinn again, waving silently to the professor who had walked in. "What about you?"

"I play Ice Hockey." Quinn spoke, he wished to play his cards right. If he did so, maybe he could get her to a game. "I'm projected to draft in the first round of the NHL entry. I fly out to Dallas with my family in about a month and a half for it."

Cookie smiled, a little bewildered, "That is seriously awesome! Congratulations!"

For the first time Quinn didn't get that rolling feeling in his gut after telling someone where he was projected to go. Y/N took it with so much grace, she didn't pester him about it, she didn't instantly try to suck up and seduce him. She just accepted it. Congratulated him and seemed like she genuinely cared.

Holy fuck. Is this what being in love feels like?

#risen rambles :d #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl #nhl players #vancover canucks #vancouver canucks #Cookie Hughes #Cookie’s Universe #Quinn x Cookie

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bobafetts-princess · 6 months ago

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Stranger and the Bear Pt1

Summary: A handsome stranger has been warming a stool at the bar you work at. What happens when ghosts from the past make an appearance?

Pairings: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: drinking, a touch of Logan smoking the cigar, abusive relationship mentioned (no abuse shown), I think that’s all for this chapter

A/N: if you saw this on ao3, I’m the same person! I’m deep in a Logan crisis and have been thinking about moving my Logan fics over to tumblr so his resurgence has given me the boost I need!

Part 2 can be found here

“Hey stranger!” You shout to your newest bar customer, tossing a coaster in front of him before turning around and grabbing his usual.

“Hey Bear,” he responds, his deep voice silky and rough at the same time.

“I can’t believe you still call me that,” You laugh, “it’s been like, three months.”

“You mentioned it first, so I ran with it.” He smiles and winks playfully at you, the most lighthearted you’ve ever seen him. The tall and handsome stranger had first come into the bar you work at a few months ago, ordering a whiskey neat and a beer.

You’d given him your name in the hopes that he would give you his in return, but no luck. “My childhood classmates called me care bear though, they claimed I was as sweet and cuddly as a care bear,” you tell him, smiling at the old memory.

“Care bear, huh?” The stranger had said, deep voice rumbling through his chest. “How about just Bear?”

“Ooh! I like that,” you say before asking him what he would like to drink.

The two of you had fell into an easy camaraderie, always some light flirting, at least from your end. You’d never asked his name and he’d never offered. Your stranger was a good looking man, neatly trimmed facial hair and sideburns, usually in a leather jacket and form-fitting jeans. He was the definition of ‘hate to see them leave, love to watch them walk away’ and you looked forward to the one or two days a week he would come in. He was always respectful, drank the same thing, and left a decent tip.

The evening passed in a blur, patrons coming and going but your stranger stayed where he was. You refilled his drinks at the exact moment he was finishing the last, that was your routine. You’d refill his drinks and he would hang out for a few hours. He watched you work, sometimes from behind dark sunglasses, sometimes through hazel green eyes.

“Hey Bear, c’mere.” Your stranger asked, cigar hanging from his mouth. You made your way towards him, thinking about how no matter how much he drank, he seemed perfectly sober. “You from ‘round here?” He asked, no sunglasses today. You could see his pupils were blown and for the first time in two months you wondered whether he was actually buzzed. He smelled like good worn leather and the cigar he was smoking. You had to prevent yourself from closing your eyes when you inhaled his scent.

“Uhh, sorta kinda. Why?” You told him, shocked at the personal question, and also embarrassed.

The truth was that you weren’t from here, you’d moved here to be with an ex-boyfriend and it had ended badly. You’d gotten home from work one night to find the locks had been changed on the apartment as well as his phone number. Come to find out, he’d been sleeping around on you since you started dating and decided he liked his side piece more. So you’d called your boss, Sally, begging for somewhere to stay and she rented you the studio apartment upstairs. You struck up a deal, the apartment for half price as long as you closed the bar down every night.

When your ex’s side-piece decided she didn’t like him as much as she'd originally thought, he’d begun stalking you and things had gone downhill. He tried to get physical with you once but Sally had threatened him with a shotgun and he hadn’t shown his face again. That was ABOUT the same time your stranger had started coming to the bar, and for some reason you felt safer when he was there.

Apparently Sally did too because on nights he showed up, she took off early and let you close down by yourself.

“So I presume you know that guy in the corner over there? He’s been watching you most of the night.” He told you, clamping the cigar between his index and middle finger. You began to turn your body in the direction of the person he was talking about but a warm hand a-top yours stopped you. “Don’t make it obvious, Bear. Don’t want him to know.” His eyes raked down your body as he was speaking, drinking you in. You weren’t wearing anything fancy, fitted jeans and a black cropped tank with the bars logo on it, but the way he was looking at you made goosebumps cover your skin.

Forcing your mind back to the issue at hand, you glance in the corner, keeping your body facing your stranger. When you caught sight of the face in the corner, you paled. It was your ex, and Sally was gone, her shotgun locked in her office.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Your stranger asked, noting your expression, his hand rubbing back and forth across your knuckles. If you hadn’t been worried, you would have blushed at the way his hand held yours and the nickname he called you.

You forced your voice to sound normal when you spoke again. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just ghosts from the past.” You forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes and were surprised to look up and find your strangers face held concern and a touch of tenderness.

“I’m gonna stick around late tonight, Bear. So keep ‘em comin’.” He told you and you felt a bit safer.

You worked the night away, one eye on your next drink ticket and one eye in the corner where your ex sat, unmoving. Your stranger did the same, only he kept one eye on you and one eye on your ex. At ten till close your voice rang out into the emptying bar, “last call!” The few that were still hanging out left not too long after, leaving you, your stranger, and your ex in the bar. You chose not to acknowledge that you knew it was him, hoping that the dark shadows of the bar would convince him that you didn’t notice who he was. After a few tense moments he stood, heading towards the front door so you turned to your stranger.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, Bear.” He said, the sultry tones of his voice soothing you. You took a glance at his retreating back before turning around and starting your wipe down of the back bar. A rough hand grabbed your wrist, pulling and making your body spin. It happened so fast that you didn’t get a good look at the face until it was the only thing in your line of sight. It was your ex, which shouldn’t surprise you but somehow it did. Your voice caught in your throat and you couldn’t attempt to shout for help from your stranger, your fear paralyzing you.

“I thought your miserable ass left this fucking town.” He snarled in one ear, face pressed against yours.

“You would think that when I left you, you’d have tucked that tail and ran back to mommy and daddy. Why are you still fucking here??” He sneered and you could smell the alcohol on his breath and when he pulled back, your wrist in his hand, you could see that his pupils were blown wide. He was high too, but you didn’t know what on. You didn't know why he was so obsessed with you, it wasn't like you had a great and powerful love. You thought his feelings were just hurt because you didn't take him back. “You stupid. Fucking. Bit-“ But he didn’t get a chance to finish because his body was ripped away from yours. You blinked and saw your stranger standing over him as he lay on the floor where he’d been thrown.

“Attacking a woman while she’s alone?” He snarled, that deep vibrato now a growl. He picked your ex up by the front of his shirt, his strength shocking you. “You piece of shit. Picking on a woman half your size while she’s alone?” He growled, shaking your ex while he was holding him up in the air. “What kind of an asshole gets off on that?” Your legs were shaking so bad that you sunk to the floor, the butt of your jeans wet from the beer and liquor that had been spilled during the course of the evening.

Your ex looked terrified, used to always being the bigger in a fight but he looked like a teenager next to your stranger. His mouth was moving wordlessly, almost like he was trying to make sounds but was too frightened.

“I’m not gonna hurt you tonight, but I swear to god if you come back, I’ll rip you limb from limb. And I’ll be here every night to make sure she stays safe. Get outta here before I change my mind, you piece of shit.” He snarls, dropping your ex unceremoniously on the floor in a heap of fear and embarrassment. He scrambles to his feet, sprinting towards the front door, letting it slam behind him. You see your stranger following behind him to lock the door before your vision starts to swirl with the beginnings of a panic attack.

“In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.” You repeat over and over to yourself when you feel a large, warm hand on your shoulder and a low gravelly voice speaking in your ear.

“Bear. Bear. Are you alright?” You continue your breathing, adding a small nod to ensure your stranger you were fine.

“I’m gonna pick you up. You live upstairs right?” He asked and in the back of your mind you wondered how he knew that. But thoughts left your mind as strong arms wrapped underneath your legs and behind your back. Your heart rate was slowing, and your panic attack subsiding, so when he asked you which way the stairs were you were able to answer. His strong body carried yours up the stairs and into the studio apartment you resided in, slowing as he crossed the threshold.

“I’m okay to stand. You can put me down.” You told him, but he seemed hesitant and you swore he clutched you even tighter to his body. “Really, Stranger, I’m okay.” You said, smiling up at his kindness.

“Logan.” He whispered as he lowered your legs onto the ground, arm staying around the small of your back until he was sure you were okay on your own two feet.

“What?” You asked, not sure of what he said.

“Logan. My names Logan.” He repeated, fingers digging into the exposed flesh of your hip, biting slightly.

“Okay, Logan. It’s nice to not refer to you as Stranger in my mind.” You giggled. You stepped reluctantly away from his embrace, heading towards your ‘kitchen’. “Would you like a drink, Logan? All I have is beer and water.”

You heard him clear his throat and when you looked at him, he looked like he was warring with himself.

“Uhh, ya, sure Kid. Bear. I’ll have a beer.” He said and for the first time since you’d met him, there was a twinge of uncertainty in his voice. You popped the top on two, handing him one before heading to the small couch you had, a mere 10 feet from your bed. He followed, sitting next to you and doing his best to make sure he wasn’t touching you, but the area was so small that your knees touched anyways.

“So that was my ex. He was stupid enough to try and get physical with me once. Sally threatened him with a shotgun. I didn’t think he would be stupid enough to try it twice.” You tried to explain without going into the entire sordid story.

“I’m going to tear him in half.” He answered, taking a long pull of his beer and you felt ashamed at what the dominance in his voice did to your lady bits.

“I don’t think he’ll be stupid enough to try this again so hopefully I don’t ever have to worry about him again.” You assured your stranger.

“Logan.” You mused aloud, a small smile crossing your face.

“Ya, Bear?” He answered, thinking you were going to ask him a question.

“It’s such a normal name.” You snickered.

“What’s wrong with my name?” He asked, faux defensiveness in his voice at your teasing.

“I’ve wondered for WEEKS what your name was and it’s Logan. It’s so normal. It suits you though. I like it.” You smiled at him, hitching one knee up on the couch and turning your torso towards him.

“I’ll be comin’ by more often and stayin’ until the bar is locked down. Just to make sure that moron doesn’t come back.” He told you, venom in his tone, but in a way that had you suppressing a shiver. You wondered what he sounded like first thing in the morning, his voice filled with sleep. “What’re you thinkin’’ about, Bear?” He asked, almost knowing your thoughts. You flushed, embarrassed to be caught in your thoughts.

“Nothing, just how you manhandled him. I think you humbled him.” You lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t realize you were thinking about HIM manhandling you.

“He’s a lightweight. Pushin’ people around that are smaller than him.” He told you, eyes skimming over you. You heated at his gaze and wondered to yourself how long it had been since you’d gotten laid. When you couldn’t remember immediately you’d decided it had been too long. “People like him always need to be manhandled, otherwise they don’t learn their lessons,” You glanced at his beer, bartender habit, and stood to get him another. Yours was still half full, so you only popped the top off of one and brought it back to him. You felt his eyes glued to your frame as you walked and tried not to let it go to your head.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He told you, even though he took the beer from your hands when you stretched it out to him.

“Thank you Logan. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there. How did you know I lived upstairs though?” You asked, the memory hitting you quick.

“I’ve heard you speak to the woman about rent. Sally? And I’ve stayed after a few times when I come by to make sure you get to your car, and you never come out of the building. The lights go out though.” He told you, unashamedly. You were struck by the kindness of this stranger. He was looking out for you and you hadn't even known. He watched out for you and all you'd ever offered him was a warm smile and a cold beer. Your breath hitched in your throat as you muttered out a small thank you to him, but he simply shrugged and took a long pull.

"I don't know how to thank you." You admitted to him but he waved you off.

"Don't worry about it, kid." He said, finishing his beer. You decided it was better off to just thank him in a different way, probably with free booze. You decided in that moment that this man would never pay for another drink in the bar again, and you felt that Sally would agree. You would speak with her about it first thing in the morning, after you filed a restraining order.

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luveline · 2 years ago

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idk if you’ve done a request like this before but maybe roan (sweetest girl ever) gets moody and says something mean or does something mean to reader and maybe reader gets really sad over it and eddie helps roan apologize or make it better?

thank you you for your request! eddie and roan. fem!reader, 2k

Roan's hair is softer than her father's but twice as unruly. You hum and haw over what to do with it —she wants it out of her face because the weather is so, so hot today, your hands clammy even now, but lately she's complained about hairpin headaches.

"Ready for brushing?" you ask.

"No." Roan squirms in your lap. "Can you just put it up, please?"

You nibble your bottom lip. You don't necessarily need to brush it, she's not going anywhere. She's lovely with or without neat hair, but…

"I don't want it to get matted," you say, almost to yourself rather than her.

"I want to go play," Roan whines.

You don't wince at her derision nor her impatience. She and her handsome father are the people you love most in the world, and to be able to do that, you've had to adapt to how children react. They can't control their bad moods with half the expertise of adults (though some of the adults you know can't do it, either). They need wiggle room.

And affection, undoubtedly.

You stroke her hair back from her face. She jerks away from your touch.

"Ro, I'm sorry," you say, in an attempt to assuage her unhappiness. Her fuse can be rather short. You'll all be happier if you can snub this flame before she has a meltdown. "I'm just trying to think of how best to do this, that's all. Can you give me a second?"

Hair up? Clips out of her face? You know she's not in the best mood, and sometimes elaborate hairstyles make her feel better, but you can tell what she wants now is to be by herself with her dolls in the cool breeze of her standing fan. Simple ponytail, you decide. You and Eddie will just have to deal with any knots that happen when they happen–

"You're not good at hair, I should've asked dad," Roan declares, jumping off of your lap.

You're startled, with barely the wits to say, "Hey, don't be like that, honey, I can do it–"

"No, you can't do it." She snatches the hairbrush from you and turns the other way. "Dad will do it faster."

"Hey," Eddie says, as though summoned by her mention. He stands in the doorway to the living room, a familiar yet foreign look on his face as he towel dries his wet hands. "Why are we talking to each other that way?"

"Because she's slow!" Roan says, agitated, hands in fists at her sides.

"Hey, no. I don't know why you're feeling unhappy, but being mean isn't going to make it go away. You don't talk to people like that, especially Y/N," Eddie says. His dark, thick brows furrow with frustration.

Roan visibly gets more upset.

"You want to go have five minutes?" Eddie asks her.

She throws her hairbrush on the floor and pushes past his legs, her footsteps like pangs of thunder as she stomps up the stairs. "Ugh!" she shouts.

Eddie frowns at her as she goes but doesn't call anything more. You clasp the back of the couch in unsteady hands, a weird, strangling pressure wrapped around your throat like a hand. Your sides ache at your twisted position.

Eddie, to his credit, isn't mad. He toes aside the thrown hairbrush with a confused pout. "What the hell just happened?" he asks.

You're not sure. Roan's not happy because she's overwhelmed by the inescapable heat of summer, her TV volume is stuck slightly too loud at 27, and she didn't like the broccoli Eddie asked her to eat at lunch. Your slow hairstyling was the last straw, evidently.

It hurts to have her angry at you. Hurts that she thinks you aren't measuring up to her father.

You rub your eyes. "My fault. Couldn't get the brush through her hair 'n' took too long putting it up."

Eddie lights up. You used to think it was theatrical, how he performs his affection, but the longer you know him, the clearer it becomes that he's just a dramatic guy. He sidles up to the couch and takes your face into both hands.

"Not your fault," he says gently. Then, with more gusto, "She's grumpy, I'm sorry she took it out on you."

You try to play up to his bravado and find your own performance falling flat. "Yeah."

His thumbs draw soft lines on your cheeks. You really like coparenting with him (though it feels a little weird to put it that way, and also very right) but in moments like this, you remember how much you love being his partner. How much you want him to kiss you and think you're pretty and smart and perfect. Eddie kisses the top of your head and gives you a hug over the couch, squeezing the tops of your shoulders, your face pressed to his neck.

"It's not a big deal," you say.

"No, it is. She's not having a good day, but I don't want her to be someone who takes it out on other people." He drops his lips to your forehead. "I'll go talk to her in a bit. Try not to take it personally, sweetheart. She knows how much you love her 'n' she knows she can be unreasonable with you like she is with me and Wayne. Blessing and a curse."

You're reassured by the idea. Roan's showing off with you because she knows you're not going anywhere. She's moody and you'd been the first one to make a mistake with her today.

"I'm good at hair," you say unsurely.

"You're great. Me and Ro have looked like a pair of Abercrombie models since we met you," he praises.

"Think she's gonna be mad at me all day?" you ask.

"Babe, you're mad at her."

"I'm not," you say.

"You're supposed to be." He gives your shoulder a rough rub. "I'm gonna go talk to her. Don't be upset, yeah? You're amazing."

You accept a clumsy forehead kiss.

Eddie leaves to soothe Roan's mood. You can imagine it now, his hip propped on the door jam, his unimpressed but patient look. You know we can't talk to each other like that, Ro. Even if we're not feeling good, we have to try to be nice. Do you know what's making you grumpy? Can I fix it for you?

It's easy to guess what he's saying because you've heard it all before. He's a good dad. He might not always feel that way, but he is.

You're not worried about Roan in any grand sense. She'll be okay. You're scared that what she said is true —you're not as good as Eddie at doing her hair. You're not as good as him at lots of things.

You feel inferior to Eddie often as a parent. It's a given, considering that he's her primary caregiver, and has been since the day she was born. That's years of bonding and love you can't touch (wouldn't want to touch, really, wouldn't ever want to change how it happened at risk of messing up what you have now). You're not even really her official stepmom yet.

What if Roan loved you because she was too young to know better? What if you're not good enough to take care of her?

Little footsteps drag down the stairs, followed by louder ones. You sniff and wipe the stressed tears that had been collecting in your eyes away, relieved to see Roan looking a little less enraged in the door. Eddie gives you a startled look at your expression, for which you can only offer a small smile.

Roan doesn't mind the walk, standing in front of you where you're still sitting on the couch with ease. She glances at your lap where you clutch her hair ties in both hands, rubbing her own together guiltily.

"Hi," you say hopefully.

Roan looks at Eddie. You watch him nod from the corner of your eye.

"I'm really sorry," Roan says. "For being mean."

"That's okay," you say, holding your hand palm up atop your thigh, just in case.

"Dad said you'd say that, but…" She eyes up your hand. You push it forward, and when she takes it, you draw an encouraging circle into her skin. "'Cus you love me, you don't get angry, but…"

"What did you tell me, sweetheart? You can tell her. It's okay," Eddie prompts.

Roan looks up. Brown eyes wide but soft brows pinched together unsurely, she says, "I didn't mean that you do hair badly. Please don't stop doing my hair, and kissing my cheek in the morning. Um, and playing dress up with me."

"I'm not gonna stop doing those things," you say softly. Internally, you're relieved. "I love doing those things."

"Roan shouldn't have been mean," Eddie interjects. "Right?"

"No, but she was having a bad day," you say, giving her hand a little swing. "Yeah? That's okay. I have bad days too, and I say things I wish I didn't."

Roan looks uneasy. "You're not mad at me?"

"Do you want me to be?" you tease gently.

"No," she says through a shy laugh. Her stomach presses to your knee as she steps forward. "I didn't mean it about my hair."

"I know."

She puts her hands up for you to pull her into your lap. You're more than willing to oblige, tucking her head under your chin. She's small in your lap.

"I love looking after you," you murmur into her hair. "It's my favourite job. I know I'm not as good as daddy at things, but I didn't get all the training he got."

"You're just as good as dad," Roan says.

"You're better," Eddie says.

You turn your head to grin at him. "Not true, but I'll keep trying, Ro. I'll get it."

Roan fights to escape your tucking, her head tilted back, the blue glow from the fish tank cooling her face. "I love you now," she says.

"Aw," Eddie says, though he looks shocked at himself, like it had slipped out unbidden.

"I love you too," you say. More than you can explain.

She puts her hand on your collar. "I'm sorry," she says again.

"She knows, babe," Eddie says, flopping down onto the couch next to you both.

"I forgive you straight away," you agree, rubbing the short breadth of her back lovingly. "It did make me sad, worrying you didn't think good things about me, but it's okay. I know you were getting annoyed. You couldn't help it."

Roan's smile is so relieved you can't stop yourself from taking her face into two hands and planting kisses into the heart of her hairline.

"Love you, silly," you say.

"Share!" Eddie demands, his weight on your arm.

Roan giggles as she's painted in kisses. Eventually, when her rosy cheeks have been covered inch to inch by kisses and she's so loved up her eyes are shining, she pushes you both away and holds her hands out. "I need space."

You and Eddie laugh breathlessly and lean back into the couch, shoulder to shoulder.

The older she gets, the more things like this are going to happen. She's going to have opinions, and expectations for you and Eddie. She's going to want space —she's going to need it, like she said. You don't mind giving her what she needs even if it is an adjustment, and even if she does aim her outbursts at you when she's overwhelmed. You do wish you could curl a strand of her hair around your finger, or stroke her cheek, but then she puts her hands on your shoulder. She's still blushing.

"You're the best mommy ever," she says.

"Did you tell her to say that?" you ask Eddie.

"No way," Eddie says, dropping his head onto your other shoulder, his hair tickling your neck. "She just knows the truth, babe. I didn't have to tell her anything about it."

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kozachenko · 6 months ago

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[Click for better quality]

Ok yay I'm back from my vacation yipeeeeeee. I started this drawing of Keiki before I left and I was half considering just giving up on it.... until I did a short study of facial planes and then got motivated to work on this again! I'm glad I didn't give up on it though, as I'm actually really happy with this one!

Artist's Notes;

So as I mentioned in my last post about Touhou 17, I wanted to finish this by the game's five year anniversary but with how progress was going I didn't want to rush this so I decided to take a long break from it. Mainly because of the face. For a while now I was kind of feeling like I was stagnating with my drawings, not really in the clothing but in the bodies. There was something about the way I was rendering them that I just wasn't happy with, and after talking with someone else about this issue, I realized that the reason I felt this way was because the faces were too flat and didn't match the rest of the drawing and that I needed to find a way to make the rendering of the face feel consistent with everything else. So after doing a short study of the plains of the face (I used this 3D head model from art station as a reference for my short study, please go give this person some love as they are a lifesaver) I went back into this drawing and applied what I learned here. It was only after that that I finally became motivated to finish the piece, and while it started off as just a simple character sketch like Saki and Yachie's were, the moment I added in Keiki's little fire dragon I knew I had gotten in too deep and now here we are with a full on background. OK it's not super crazy or anything, but it gets the job done and it's better than there just being an empty void behind her. It's rare moments like this when I use brushes other than the Clip Studio Default Charcoal Brush and use the Clip Studio Default Paint Brushes as well (god bless the oil paint and dry gouache clip studio brushes, they were amazing). I don't know why but painting fire has always been really fun for me, there's something oddly satisfying about it y'know? I do think that another reason for this problem was because I was drawing faces like I would in my more sketchy style that didn't mesh well with my lineless style, so I'm glad I've started remedying that.

After adding in the fire dragon I had an idea to kinda make it feel like splash art in the way the composition works... probably because I have been playing Reverse 1999 again and it has taken over my brain. I do feel like Keiki's tools get a little lost in the composition, and I didn't fully render the metal parts of them mainly because I didn't feel like they needed it, but that's just something for me to improve on later down the line.

If you guys are wondering where I went for my vacation, I went to New York and got to go to the MET and the Museum of Natural History. In both places I found Kofun period stuff and I was so happy to see it you have no idea. I remember one of the Haniwa I saw had some neat face paint under the eyes that I tried to replicate with the makeup under Keiki's eyes in my drawing, though I think I'll gave to figure out how to draw makeup on characters because this reads more like blush to me than anything. While drawing this I also looked up some references of Kofun period jewelry and really liked the stuff I found, which also meant that now she has proper Kofun earrings instead of earrings shaped like Kofun tombs. I put some of the things I referenced with a closeup of Keiki's face as well down below. I made her outfit more reminiscent of the outfit I gave her at the beginning of the year with the buttons and all, though I do want to try and draw her in some more period accurate clothing like the Haniwa I took a picture of at the Museum of Natural History. I wish I could find a way to make her handercheif look better though as I wish I made it a little bit bigger, though I think I'm saying this because I've looked at this drawing for too long lmao. Once again something to work on for when I next draw her. Also want to get better at rendering hair, as some details (like the little strands in front of her ears) kinda got unreadable due to the similarities in colour lol.

Now you may have also noticed the little cracks I added onto Keiki's face, and that's because I have fallen in love with the idea of Keiki's body being made from ceramic and that she crafted her body herself. While they aren't very visible I also tried to add some doll joints to her body, which is an idea I played around with in the past but never went to far with. I also want to get better at rendering cracks in ceramic, porcelain, etc, as I'm not sure how those read in the drawing. I also have a headcanon where the cracks in Keiki's face show up because of heightened emotions, and while Keiki is aware of this and does her best to make sure her face doesn't break off.... she will still end up with at least a few cracks during any given day, and she can often forget to repair her own body quite frequently so Mayumi has to remind her quite a lot. Mayumi even taught herself some basic sculpting techniques to help repair parts of her body that are so badly damaged to the point where Keiki can't repair them herself, i.e. if both her arms broke off, Mayumi would put them back together for her so Keiki can at least have something to repair herself with rather than nothing. I also like to imagine that if Keiki created her own body, if you took a look at Keiki from the beginning of her life she would look completely different compared to now.

BTW If you guys are wondering what a very very angry Keiki looks like....ok in order for this to make sense have any of you read volume 11 of Land of The Lustrous? Am I bringing back some memories for those of you that have? Ok good, glad we all got that mental image brewing in our minds, I'll probably draw a version of Keiki that is somewhat inspired by that one day as it's an idea I've had for a little while now. And to those who haven't gotten to that volume yet and are confused.... don't worry about it, just keep reading :)

#touhou project #art #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 17 #keiki haniyasushin #wily beast and weakest creature #touhou #東方project #own art

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courtingchaos · 2 years ago

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Teeth

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Summary: You and Eddie are freaks. He has a little accident, you have a fun little hobby, and he shows you how he really feels about you’re whole Deal.

Warnings: Teeth. I mention them a lot. Blood, cursing, sex.

A/N: Did I start another blurb series before even publishing the series I was supposed to start last month? Shut the hell up oh my god why are you up my ass about it????

18+ NSFW No Minors

Eddie hooks his chin on your shoulder while you stare at the giant shadow box on the wall.

“Are they all human teeth?”

“Mhm.”

“Isn’t it illegal to own human remains in the US?”

“Well, remains and bones are different categories.”

He knew that would set you off, your phone pulled out for google to fill in your blanks. Eddie laughs at the first result, The Bone Room, and the two of you get a good chuckle out of it for a solid minute.

“Okay so I was wrong, but do you want to own a random set of teeth? What if they’re haunted?” Eddie watches your reflection in the glass front and can’t help but laugh when your eyes go big.

“One could only hope.” You whisper.

“Okay Morticia.” He leaves you to peruse the case of teeth while he wanders over to the weird clown doll corner. This was another little oddities shop you’d found online and asked to go to and he was more than happy to oblige. He also liked weird shit and there was usually a record store close to these kinds of places and of course you needed to find a coffee shop and it would always turn into a fun day date for the two of you.

When he finally gets away from the dolls he finds you at the main counter looking into the glass display while the clerk explains the jewelry inside.

“What’d you find?” He asks, bending directly in half to stare at the tray of rings in front of you.

“More teeth.” You give him an over the top smile that he returns, snapping his jaws at you while the poor woman behind the counter watches your flirting. She tells you prices instead of paying the two of you any mind and you hem and haw while Eddie just takes his wallet out to slide his card across the glass.

“Ed.” You don’t even look up at him when you warn him.

“Which one was it? Is it the big molar? It’s the big molar isn’t it?” He gives the clerk a scoff. “Can you believe this? I take her out here and she thinks I’m not buying her a tooth ring?”

In the cafe you’d found ahead of time you inspect your new ring while he chews on his straw, watching your rub the crown of the tooth.

“You really didn’t have to buy me this.” The barista comes over then with your coffee and a massive croissant. “Or that.”

“What? It’s a sweet treat for my sweet treat.” He tears a piece off and wiggles his eyebrows. “Also a sweet tooth for my sweet tooth.”

“Now you’re pushing it, Munson.”

“You love it.” He pauses when you kick his boot under the table and it turns into a violent round of footsie.

“Can I ask why teeth?”

“I don’t know. I just think they’re neat.” You shrug and fiddle with the ring on your middle finger. “They make a cool sound if you click a handful together. Very satisfying.”

“Yeah?” The smile is evident in his voice, even if you don’t look up to see it. “Sure there’s nothing else?” He goads, waiting for you to look up and narrow your eyes at him.

“And maybe I also want to crunch them like a sugar cube.” You make the exact face he thought you would and it makes him feel a warm coil of familiarity.

“There it is.”

“What?”

“I knew you wanted to do something weird with it.” His laugh turns into a cackle when you discreetly bring your hand up to click the ring against your front teeth.

“Okay so if it’s loose like…No I mean I can see it moving in the socket…ugh god, yeah…alright…” Your tone doesn’t give Eddie any hope and when you scrunch your face up while the dentist office tells you something longwinded, he sighs.

“How much? Oh shi- yeah okay. Thank you though.” You hang up and shoot him a steady look. “Guess.”

“I’m gonna loose it?” Eddie says, bag of frozen green beans held against his cheek.

“No shit.” You set your phone down and make your way to him leaned back on the couch. “You could potentially keep it for a cool $600 though.” Your hand replaces his on the slowly thawing bag and the sharp intake of breath isn’t from the new pressure on his bruise.

“$600 for one tooth?”

“Mhm.”

“Fuck it, I’ll just pull it.” Eddie sighs at the ceiling and closes his eyes. He’d been fucking around, trying to swing his guitar around his shoulders during practice. Had actually managed a few turns but when you’d come to pick him up he wanted to show off. A fast toss over his shoulder and he didn’t see the corner of the body barreling for his cheek.

Your loud gasp and a lot of blood down his front later, he was in pain and slightly humiliated but definitely not out $600.

“Will you help me?” He gently rolls his head your direction, his cheek cradled between veggies and your palm.

“Of course.” You smile sadly at him. “It’s gonna hurt though.”

“Yeah but I like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest, t-shirt still stained red.

“Come on, ladykiller.”

In the bathroom he braces his hands on the counter while you try to find the best angle to pull his tooth out at.

“I’m trying to not just have my whole fist in your mouth.”

“That’s hot.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yes ma’am.” Eddie grins at your flat look. You blindly grab the pliers from behind you on the vanity and take a deep breath before holding his mouth open.

“Please don’t bite down.”

“Eye hot yuh yiked hat.” He’s drooling around your hand and trying to be cute. It’s unfortunately working on you.

“Not like this, no.”

He feels the pliers on his tooth, a gentle tug while you rearrange and then you look at him. Eyebrows scrunched and a concerned look in your eyes. “You okay?” He nods. “This is gonna hurt baby, I’m sorry.”

He barely has time to process what you’ve said. He was waiting for a count down but instead you’ve yanked once, swiftly and without remorse. There’s a small clatter where his tooth bounces around in the sink and then he feels the pulse of pain. A new rush of blood floods his mouth and he doubles over the sink to spit and moan.

“You didn’t even warn me!”

“You would have bitched out and you know it.” You rub his back while he pouts and keeps spitting into the sink. When you disappear to get him a glass of water, he rinses out the sink and picks up his tooth to inspect it. “What tooth is this anyways?”

“The tech said she thinks it’s a premolar from what I told her.” You answer as you come back into the cramped bathroom. He pulls his lip back to stare at the dark space between teeth.

“You don’t already know which one it is?”

You just roll your eyes. “She did say it was good that you didn’t crack it, could have been worse.” You shrug and Eddie holds out his hand to you, tooth sitting in the middle of his palm.

“It looks cool.” He says, rolling it around until you pick it up gingerly and inspect it. There’s a little bit of blood stuck in the root but you keep turning it over, running the pad of your finger over the ridges.

“You’re gonna keep it right?”

“Duh.” He laughs. You hand it back to him and help him clean up from his traumatic afternoon.

A couple of aspirin and a hot shower later and he’s ready for bed, just waiting on you to finish in the bathroom. He watches your shadow under the door where light seeps out and runs his tongue for the umpteenth time through the new space in his teeth. He’s not trying to make it worse but it’s a foreign void that he can’t stop fucking with. The bathroom door opens and you’re already staring at him, head cocked to the side. “I can see you tonguing that spot from over here.”

“You’ve got a spot I can tongue.”

You don’t respond, just turn off the lights on your way into the bedroom where you climb over him on the bed. Before you can drop onto your side he grabs your thighs to hold you above him.

“Thanks for not laughing at me.”

“You looked pretty cool, right up until you smashed your mouth.” You brace your hands on his chest and lean in close. “The blood really distracted me.”

“Yeah that was quite a bit.”

“Still hot.”

He grins and you can spot the missing tooth in the dark before he pulls you in by your chin to give you a kiss. When he opens his mouth to deepen it, your tongue immediately finds the new space like his had. He laughs into the kiss and sits up on his elbows to be closer. It’s a slow make out session that he has no intention of taking further, mostly delighting in you running your tongue along the inside of his mouth, probing.

“What are you laughing at?” You ask, annoyed at him huffing into your mouth.

“You keep trying to feel it with your tongue.” He grins at you in the dark, features highlighted by the light seeping in through the curtains.

“It’s a new spot in your mouth for me to tongue.” You mumble and Eddie says something about tonguing your new hole and it devolves into a slap fight that ends with you two sleepily kissing again.

For a few weeks his tooth kicks around the house in a little ring box you had laying around. Jokingly he stuffed a scrap of ribbon in it and called it a coffin, started giving a eulogy to it every night after dinner.

“Craig had the toughest job-“

“I thought he was Neville?”

“I changed it. Craig is a working man’s name.”

“In what country?”

“Coal country.” Eddie jokingly bangs his fist on the table and continues on about Craig and his 52 family members.

Wayne comes by for dinner and sees this little atrocity and just stares at it for a good while, you and Eddie tight lipped trying to not laugh at his blank expression.

“I don’t know what to expect when I come over here, ever.” He’s not judging, in fact he’s almost too accommodating when him and Eddie disappear after dinner for a smoke on the balcony and he gives his nephew pointers on what dremel bit to use so he doesn’t crack the tooth.

“A matching necklace? Christ Eddie don’t tell me you knocked out two teeth!”

“No! I bought the ring for her, this was just a mistake.” Eddie gestures at his mouth and Wayne chuckles at him.

“Always gotta show off.”

“For her? No shit. If I don’t, she’ll realize how much better she can do.”

Wayne tilts his head and fixes Eddie with a stern look. “You know how I feel about that.”

“I’m kidding.” He tries to wave him off.

“Well I’m not. Who else is gonna bring her home a tooth on a chain?” Eddie can see how that makes Wayne shudder, even when he’s trying to be forcefully reassuring. He pats his uncle on the knee before standing and stretching.

“True. There aren’t any many of my kind left.” He says it wistfully, staring off the balcony into the dark until Wayne huffs at him to get inside and help with the dishes.

The bit dies off and the ring box ends up on your nightstand. Eddie thinks it’s a pretty romantic gesture the way you’ve given it a prime spot next to your Dracula figure. He also knows you’ll notice it missing so he takes the tooth when he gets home before you and knocks the box over and when you notice he plays dumb.

“Oh no, did you knock it over?” “No I haven’t been in your nightstand.” “Why would I take it?”

He brings it with him to work and Wayne refuses to touch it, instead standing off to the side and letting Eddie drill the minuscule hole. He texts you on his lunch and tells you he’s got some extra stuff to take care of, running late, don’t worry about dinner. He uses the extra hour to run by the antique store and buy a chain and he gets so lucky because you’re in the shower when he finally comes home.

Ring box stolen from your drawer and left oh so carelessly in the middle of the counter next to your big water cup. He doesn’t even change out of his shop clothes, just sits and waits for you to come out.

When you do, you give him a kiss in passing and then stop short in the kitchen. “Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s this?” You hold up the small red box and gently shake it at him.

“I made you something in art class today.” He says bashfully and leans over the arm of the couch to dangle his arms while you laugh at him.

“Aw, did Mr. Munson help you with your finger painting?” You pout at him and he flips you off. Your laugh cuts off when you open the box to stare at the necklace.

“Is this your tooth?”

“Yeah, I lied.” He grins at you, “I staged the crime scene.”

“You scum.” Your giggle gets him off the couch, the scrunch of your face makes him cradle your jaw, your whispered ‘thank you’ earns you a kiss and before you can fumble with the chain he’s pulling it out of your hands to loop it around your neck. He does the clasp up and smooths a hand down over the tooth.

“Oh you make that look better than I ever did.” His dimples push through his warm smile. “Almost like it was made for you.”

“God you are laying it on thick today huh?”

“I mean it, everything I am is for you.” He holds you close while you fiddle with your new jewelry. It’s so small for such a significant thing, at least to you. Especially when he starts talking like that. Eddie notices your pensive turn and pulls his head back to look down at you.

“Did I…did I read this wrong? Is it too much?” He knows he’s bad at that sometimes. He knows you like this stuff but maybe wearing a familiar tooth is a step too far. Maybe it feels like a weight around your neck instead of a thin rope of silver. It’s his turn to get quiet and he tries to pull away but you latch on around his ribs.

“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me and it’s really weird and I love it a lot.” You mumble into his chest where your cheek is pressed tight. “Thank you.”

He watches you the rest of the night playing with it. Twirling your fingers through the chain and rolling the tooth around, staring down at it and once tapping it against your own teeth like you did with the ring. It gives him a new affection for you, to see you admire something he not only made you, but something that’s wholly him.

Later when he’s waiting for you in bed while you wander around and look for your phone, the intrusive thought he’d been keeping in finally breaks the surf of his mind.

“I’d knock out all my teeth for you.” He says it into the quiet and you pause at the foot of the bed to tilt your head at him.

“That’s so sweet.” You giggle quietly, the look you give him is contemplative.

“No I’m serious.” He leans up on his elbow to look you square in the eyes. “I’d hang ‘em all on a silver chain, drape them on you like pearls.” His stare gets a weight to it that makes you feel rooted to the spot. “I’d make you an altar out of them. Give them to you like little offerings.”

“You make it sound like I’m a deity you need to please.”

“Oh but you are.” He rolls up off his elbow to crawl towards the end of the bed and kneel in front of you. “Everything I do is in service to you and your good favor.” He splays a hand over his bare chest and you know he’s doing a thing but his wide eyed eagerness on his knees is doing it for you.

“And you’d hand over your teeth just for that?”

“I’d hand over my life.” He grabs your hand and presses it over his heart. “I’d leave imprints of my teeth all over you and then hand them over on a platter.”

“Why is this so hot?” You mutter at him, your body flush with heat suddenly.

“I know, keep playing along.” He whispers back, eyebrows twitching upwards. “I’m simply a vessel for your happiness and if that means sacrificing pieces of myself,” his hands settle up behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss, “then I’ll pull them all out by the root and leave them on the steps of your temple.” He keeps pulling you back until you have to catch yourself and climb over him, his lanky frame unfolding under you.

“Does that make you a patron or a priest?” You straddle his hips and break away from the kiss to stare at him, necklace dangling down against his cheek.

“I’m your most devoted follower.” He whispers in the small space between you two, eyes searching. “I’ve pledged my life to you.” His fingers dig in to your bare thighs. “Not for just a reward in the afterlife but in the hopes that you’ll grant me one look at your divine form.”

“Eddie!” You laugh at him and sit up, face and neck hot from his praise.

“What? I mean it! All of that for one…touch.” He slides his palms around to grab your ass and you laugh harder.

“That’s all you want? Just a touch?”

“Well maybe a long, continuous one.” He tries to slide his hands up further but you stop him at your hips. He looks determined to feel up your sides but your grip on his wrists holds tight.

“You wouldn’t want to anger your god now, would you?” His eyes widen at your sudden boldness. When you can tell he’ll sit still you unhand him to pull up the hem of your shirt slowly. “You give me a lifetime of servitude for a single touch?” Before you pull it over your head you give him a wicked a grin. “I’ll reward you with your single wish.”

He understands the game but his hands still twitch when you toss your shirt to the side, chest bared to him. You wiggle around until you get your underwear off, his hands still attached to you. He gets one touch and he won’t waste it, not now that you’re fully naked over him. You pull his boxers down, hands grazing sensitive skin and he pushes his head back into the pillow with a groan.

He clenches his jaw when you grind down on him, sliding over the head of his cock. His eyes rolling when you lean back and brace yourself on his thighs. You gasp with every roll of your hips and he whimpers.

“God damnit can I please touch you?” He grinds out through clenched teeth. The wet slide of your cunt has him breathing shallow and fast, the urge to buck up and fuck you settling low in the base of his spine. “C’mon, don’t I get some kind of fu-uck…” He stutters when your nails drag over his thighs. “You gotta show me some k-kind of mercy.”

“I’m already wearing a piece of you Eddie.”

His chest rises and falls, nostrils flared while he breaths heavy against his own willpower. The tattoos on his arms jump when he digs his fingers into your hips harder, an anchor he has to keep in place until you tell him he can move. “Why don’t you show me just how devoted you are?”

His first instinct, his first want, is to push you back and hold you down and make you sob about it. He’d like to hitch your legs up over his hips and make you remember the feeling of him deep inside for a few days.

But that’s not how you treat a goddess.

He slides his hands up your back with care when he sits up, his lips pressing softly into the space between your breast. He kisses up and over the necklace, warmed by your skin under it. Kisses up your neck until he has to pull your head down to meet his lips again. His fingers don’t grasp like they did a moment ago. They dance light over your skin, along the edge of your hair. They trace up under your jaw and over your cheeks, down your nose. He follows their path with his mouth, gentle kisses following gentle touch.

Your hips don’t move as rapid as they were and he uses it to his advantage. He presses up until he hears that gasp when he breaches you, soft heat clenching around his cock almost enough to set him off. He basks in the moment too long and you try to move your hips down against his but he makes a sound of protest, something in the back of his throat like a whine. “Give me a second, I’m having a moment with divinity.”

Your laugh travels through you, vibrations under his palms when you test his resolve again. Another gentle roll and he lays his face into the crook of your neck to mouth at you. Tongue running flat up the tendon on display when your head tips back and he finally buries himself fully. Your fingers wind in his hair while he snakes a hand between you, thumb finding your clit and you both groan when your movements speed up. He’s already too close, got himself all wound up in the role play but he needs you to finish first to put a nice bow on this evening.

“Y’really like it?” He pants against you.

“Of c-course I do.”

“Y’gonna wear it every day?” You nod and whine when he puts more pressure on his thumb. “Let everyone know what kind of freak you are.” You keep nodding and grinding down on him and that line of heat licks up his spine fast. “Gonna show everyone aren’t you?” He can feel your thighs trembling around his hips, knees digging in on every downward movement. “C’mon baby, wanna see it.” It takes him a lot of effort to pull his head up to watch you. Your chin tilted up, mouth hung open and panting, all for him. He can feel the tension building in you and can see the crease between your brows. The low whine that crawls out of your throat and goes on and on when he finally hits your peak.

He huffs, almost laughing at the way you break, amazed as always at the way you react to him. You sit flush against him and grind and pull his hair and his eyes roll back in his head, a line of curses spilling out of his lips that you catch with your own. He comes fast and hot, the edges of his vision going spotty while you keep his head steady and swallow all his grunts. In his foggy thoughts he can feel you run your tongue over the new space in his mouth, the feeling just foreign enough that it makes him shiver before he laughs again at your interest.

It takes a moment for you both to come down, you slouching into Eddie and making him fall back against the pillows, still out of breath.

“So I take it I’ve won your favor.” He grins up at the ceiling, running his hand over your back.

“You keep calling me a god, you can have whatever you want.” You roll on your side and nuzzle up under his outstretched arm.

“Don’t teeth have something to do with prosperity?” He snaps his fingers behind your head. “With all these new adornments, we’re gonna be swimmin’ in it baby.”

“Oh so that’s why you worship me, for my money!” You poke his side hard enough he flinches and curls around you suddenly, locking you into a hug and pinning you down on the bed. His lips brush your ear when he speaks lowly to you. “I worship you because you deserve it, the prosperity is a perk.” He keeps you close for a while until you both get too hot, sticky skin separating under cool sheets. He still has to touch you though and his foot finds yours while he reaches over to play with your necklace.

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.”

“I’m glad you’re cool with this.” You laugh. “We could have been having a much different evening otherwise.”

(Sacrifice for the read more)

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Smut #My Fic #My Work #Freak Like Me

1K notes · View notes

satansdarlin · 1 month ago

Text

Marigold Margins

oneshot

Tim drake x Fem!reader, Established relationship, period comfort

notes: made this cause I was having terrible period cramps

word count: 4.4 K

rating: G

Warnings: None :)

The penthouse was unusually quiet when Tim returned home well past midnight. The board meeting had dragged endlessly, but your morning message calling in sick had lingered in his thoughts all day. A simple "Can't make it in" followed by a string of crying emojis had been unlike your usual professional demeanor.

The bedroom was dark save for the faint city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. A mountain of blankets on the bed shifted slightly at his entrance, and he noticed the usually neat space was scattered with tell-tale signs of your day: empty tea mugs, a half-eaten pack of crackers, and what appeared to be a hot water bottle peeking out from the blanket pile.

"Baby?" Tim's voice was barely above a whisper. A muffled groan emerged from the blanket fortress. "Oh, sweetheart." His hand traced the outline of your form beneath the layers.

"I want to cease existing," came your pitiful declaration from somewhere within the cocoon. "Everything hurts. My back feels like someone's trying to fold me in half backwards."

"Not on my watch," he murmured, amusement threading through his concern. "Have you taken anything today?"

"Ibuprofen. Twice. Barely touched it." You shifted, and he caught a glimpse of your pale face in the dim light. "The cramps woke me up at three AM. Couldn't even stand straight enough to make it to the office."

Tim's expression softened. He knew how much you hated missing work, how seriously you took your position. For you to call in, it must have been truly unbearable.

"Why didn't you call me earlier?" He was already shrugging off his suit jacket, mind cycling through ways to help.

"You had the board meeting. The expansion plans." Your voice was muffled again as you burrowed deeper into the blankets. "I didn't want to... distract..."

"Hey," his tone grew firm, "your wellbeing is never a distraction."

He located the heated blanket, plugging it in and carefully arranging it over your curled form. The medicine cabinet in the bathroom yielded extra strength painkillers, and he filled a glass of water.

"Here," he offered both to you. "Small sips."

You emerged just enough to take the medicine, and he noticed the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, the way you winced at even the small movement.

"I'm going to run you a bath - the really hot kind you like. And then I'm calling Indi."

"Why Indi?" you mumbled, already curling back into your nest.

"Because last time this happened, she brought that special tea blend that actually helped. And because she'll kill me if I don't let her know you're suffering."

A weak laugh escaped you. "You're too good to me."

"Just good enough," he corrected softly, pressing his lips to what he hoped was your forehead through the blankets. "Try to rest. I'll be right back."

In the bathroom, he started filling the oversized tub, adding the lavender bath salts you kept for especially rough days. His phone was already out, typing a message to Indi:

To: Indi

Message: Monthly visitor hit hard. She's in rough shape. Any chance you still have that tea blend?

The response was immediate:

From: Indi

Message: I’ll be there first thing in the morning with supplies. Tell her to hang in there. Making her favorite soup too.

Tim smiled slightly, grateful not for the first time for your support system. He returned to the bedroom, finding you had migrated slightly toward the edge of the bed.

"Bath's almost ready. Think you can make it?"

"If you help me?" Your voice was small, vulnerable in a way you rarely allowed yourself to be at work.

"Always," he promised, already moving to assist you. "Indi's on her way with reinforcements."

"Mm, you love me."

"Yes," he said simply, helping you stand. "I do."

In the morning, the sun had just barely crested over the horizon and you were bundled up in Tim's oversized Gotham University hoodie and a pair of well-worn sweatpants. The familiar scent of his laundry detergent mixed with the persistent aroma of Indi's infamous liver soup - a "family recipe" she swore by during these times. You were curled into the corner of the plush sectional, looking absolutely miserable as your sister wielded a spoon like a weapon.

"Come on," Indi coaxed, the soup spoon hovering dangerously close to your face. Dick was perched on the arm of the couch beside her, poorly concealing his amusement at the scene. "It's good for you!"

Tim, settled in the armchair nearby, let out a poorly suppressed snicker at your expression of absolute betrayal.

"If it's so amazing, why don't you all-" your indignant protest was cut short as Indi, ever the opportunist, shoved the spoon into your open mouth. Her triumphant "Ha!" echoed through the penthouse.

"You need the iron," she insisted, already preparing another spoonful. "Your color's terrible."

"It tastes like sadness and betrayal," you whined, pulling Tim's hoodie up to cover half your face. "Why can't I just take iron supplements like a normal person?"

"Because," Indi started, her voice taking on that familiar lecturing tone, "this is Grandma's recipe. It helped me, it helped Scarlet, and it's going to help you."

Dick leaned forward, his expression sympathetic but clearly entertained. "You know she's not going to give up, right? I've seen this exact scene play out with Babs."

"Traitor," you muttered, but accepted another spoonful with minimal resistance. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I'm on the side of not having my girlfriend worry herself sick about her baby sister," Dick countered smoothly.

Tim watched the exchange with soft eyes, noting how even in your misery, there was something comforting about the familiar family dynamic. Your phone buzzed - probably Scarlet checking in for the hundredth time today.

"How about this," Tim offered, "three more spoonfuls and we can watch that terrible reality show you pretend not to love."

Your eyes narrowed at him over the hoodie. "Five episodes?"

"Three."

"Four, and you don't complain about the drama."

"Deal," he conceded, earning an approving nod from Indi.

"See?" Indi beamed, "Compromise! Now open up for the airplane..."

"I will literally fire all of you," you threatened weakly, but opened your mouth anyway.

Dick's laugh was warm. "Pretty sure you can't fire me. Indi and I don't even work with you and Tim is literally your boss,"

"I'll find a way," you mumbled around another spoonful of soup, but there was no heat in it. Just the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared enough to force-feed you liver soup and negotiate reality TV treaties.

Tim's hand found yours under the blanket, squeezing gently. Another spoonful down, two to go, and then maybe - just maybe - you'd admit that the soup was helping. But not out loud. Never out loud. You had a reputation to maintain, after all.

"Last bite," Indi announced triumphantly, wielding the spoon like a victory flag. "And then my work here is done."

You swallowed dramatically, collapsing back against the couch cushions. "If I die, tell Scarlet it was Indi's soup that did it."

"Drama queen," Dick teased, but he was already reaching for the remote. "Which trashy show are we subjecting ourselves to tonight?"

"Real Housewives of Gotham," you and Indi said in unison, causing Tim to groan softly.

"You promised not to complain," you reminded him, shifting to rest your head against his shoulder as he moved to join you on the couch. The heating pad was still warm against your abdomen, and his presence was steadying.

"I'm not complaining," Tim defended, adjusting the blanket around you. "I'm just... expressing concern about your taste in television."

Indi bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up the soup aftermath and preparing what sounded like tea. Dick had somehow produced a bag of chocolate-covered almonds from somewhere - your favorite guilty pleasure snack that you were pretty sure Tim had started keeping stocked just for these occasions.

Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet

Message: Soup status? Did they get it into you? Don't make me come over there.

To: Scarlet

Message: Mission accomplished. Your evil minions succeeded.

From: Scarlet

Message: Good girl. Rest up. Love you.

"Scarlet checking in?" Tim asked softly, his fingers absently running through your hair.

"Mmhmm. Making sure the torture was successful." You nestled closer, the combination of warmth, full stomach, and pain medication making you drowsy.

"Here," Indi returned with mugs of her special tea blend. "This should help with the cramping."

"If it tastes anything like the soup..." you started to protest, but Indi's stern look silenced you.

"It's peppermint and ginger. Maybe a few other things. Family secret." She settled back next to Dick, who immediately draped his arm around her shoulders.

The show started playing, its familiar dramatic intro music filling the penthouse. Tim's hand hadn't stopped its gentle motion through your hair, and you could feel yourself starting to drift despite the theatrical arguing on screen.

"You can sleep," Tim murmured, just for you. "We won't tell the Housewives."

"'m not sleeping," you protested weakly. "Just resting my eyes."

Dick's soft chuckle suggested he didn't believe you either, but you were too comfortable to argue. The pain had dulled to a manageable ache, and the familiar voices of your favorite guilty pleasure show mixed with the quiet conversation between Indi and Dick.

"Thank you," you whispered to Tim, not sure if he heard it.

But his gentle kiss to your temple suggested he had.

The last thing you registered before drifting off was Indi's voice: "Dick, don't you dare tell Bruce about the soup recipe. Some things need to stay in the family."

Consciousness returned slowly, accompanied by the gentle hum of familiar voices. The penthouse - usually your and Tim's quiet sanctuary - had transformed into what could only be described as organized chaos. Tim was still asleep beside you, his breathing deep and even, one arm protectively draped over your middle where the heating pad had slipped.

The scene unfolding before you was like something from a Renaissance painting of domestic life. In the kitchen, Alfred and Indi were deep in conversation, recipe cards spread between them like battle plans. Alfred's eyes twinkled as your sister demonstrated what looked suspiciously like the proper way to dice vegetables.

"Master Timothy always did prefer the carrots julienned," Alfred was saying, his fond smile evident in his tone.

Near the window, Jason and Dick's hushed argument with Damian had something to do with proper gaming console setups - their gestures becoming increasingly elaborate while trying to maintain their whispered volume.

"Pennyworth's setup is clearly superior," Damian insisted, arms crossed.

"Yeah, if you're living in 1995," Jason countered.

Stephanie and Cass had claimed the bar stools, systematically working their way through what appeared to be Alfred's special triple chocolate brownies. They shared knowing looks each time they successfully nabbed another piece without drawing attention.

Your baby sister Petal had commandeered a corner of the room, her easel set up to capture the whole scene. Her tongue poked out slightly in concentration - a habit she'd had since childhood - as she mixed colors on her palette. The morning light caught her dark hair, making the purple streaks she'd recently added shimmer.

Bruce and your mom had claimed the comfortable armchairs by the window, sharing what looked like coffee and quiet laughter. Your mom's eyes crinkled at the corners the way they always did when she was truly relaxed, and Bruce's usual stern demeanor had softened considerably.

"I swear," your mom was saying, "teenagers are the same whether they're vigilantes or not."

"Tell me about it," Bruce replied with a knowing smile.

Near the dining room, Barbara was patiently explaining something about the smart home system to Duke, who looked both impressed and slightly overwhelmed.

"So you're saying Tim basically built his own AI?" Duke whispered.

"More or less," Babs confirmed. "Though don't let him hear you call it that. He's very specific about the terminology."

You couldn't help the warm feeling spreading through your chest at the sight of both your families so naturally intertwined. Pressing a soft kiss to Tim's neck, you felt him stir slightly.

"The cavalry arrived while we were asleep," you hummed against his skin, watching his eyes flutter open.

"Mm," he mumbled, taking in the scene. "Alfred's here. That explains why it smells edible."

"I heard that, Master Timothy," Alfred called from the kitchen, not even turning around.

You stifled a laugh against Tim's shoulder as he had the grace to look slightly sheepish. Your phone buzzed - another text from Scarlet:

From: Scarlet

Message: Stuck at the shop but Harkin insists on sending you his latest masterpiece. [Picture attached: a somewhat abstract crayon drawing of what might be you, surrounded by what appears to be every color in the crayon box]

To: Scarlet

Message: It's beautiful. Tell my favorite nephew he's definitely getting extra cookies next visit.

"How are you feeling?" Tim asked softly, his hand finding yours under the blanket.

Before you could answer, your mom's voice carried across the room: "Don't let her tell you she's fine, Timothy. She always says she's fine."

"Mom!" you protested, but there was no heat in it.

"She's right, you know," Tim murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You always say you're fine."

The smell of fresh bread suddenly wafted through the penthouse, making your stomach growl traitorously. Alfred and Indi shared a knowing look.

"Perfect timing," Alfred declared. "Master Timothy, if you would assist in setting the table? I believe we'll need the extended leaves for this gathering."

Your attempt to help was immediately shut down by no less than three people.

"Don't you dare," Indi warned, wielding a wooden spoon threateningly.

"Sit," Tim commanded gently, untangling himself from you.

"TT. Drake's companion should rest," Damian added, surprising everyone. When they stared, he shrugged. "Pennyworth says so."

Your mom approached with a fresh mug of tea, settling beside you on the couch. "How's my baby really feeling?"

"Better," you admitted, accepting the tea. "The soup helped. Don't tell Indi."

"Your secret's safe with me." She smoothed your hair back, just like she used to when you were little. "Though I think everyone knows by now. Family recipe and all."

The word 'family' caught you, making you look around the room again. Bruce was now helping Tim with the table, their movements synchronized from years of practice. Jason had somehow been roped into helping Alfred plate food, though he kept stealing bites when he thought no one was looking. Petal had convinced Cass to pose for a quick sketch, while Stephanie offered increasingly ridiculous pose suggestions.

"Speaking of family," your mom's voice was careful, measured. "Bruce and I were talking..."

"Mom," you warned, knowing that tone.

"Just hear me out. The penthouse is lovely, but that Manor has so much space. And Alfred mentioned something about the guest house being renovated..."

You nearly choked on your tea. "Are you and Bruce trying to get us to move to the Manor?"

"It would be practical," Bruce chimed in, apparently having bat-hearing when it came to Manor-related conversations. "Shorter commute for both of you."

"And closer to family," your mom added.

"We're literally having this conversation while everyone's here in our penthouse," you pointed out.

"The Manor has a better security system," Tim contributed, earning him a betrayed look.

"Et tu, Timothy?"

He raised his hands in surrender, but you could see the consideration in his eyes. Before you could protest further, Alfred announced that lunch was ready.

The spread was impressive - fresh bread, three different soups (including a conspicuous absence of liver), and what looked like enough food to feed a small army. Which, given the current occupancy of your penthouse, seemed appropriate.

"I can't believe you're all conspiring about real estate while I'm vulnerable," you grumbled, but allowed Tim to help you to the table.

"Master Timothy," Alfred said as he placed a bowl of your favorite soup in front of you, "perhaps we should also mention the plans for the greenhouse?"

Your eyes lit up despite yourself. Tim shot Alfred a look that clearly said 'traitor.'

"Greenhouse?" you asked, interest piqued.

"I was going to mention it when you were feeling better," Tim admitted. "Bruce suggested we might want to restore the east greenhouse. It's got good light for your herbs..."

"And it's right next to the guest house," Bruce added innocently.

"You're all impossible," you declared, but you were smiling.

Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet

Message: They're trying to get you to move to the Manor aren't they? Mom just texted me. I vote yes. Better security.

To: Scarlet

Message: Traitor

The family meal continued around you, conversations overlapping, laughter filling the space. Tim's hand found yours under the table, squeezing gently.

"We don't have to decide anything now," he murmured.

"I know." You leaned against him slightly. "But maybe... maybe we could look at the greenhouse?"

His smile was worth the chorus of triumphant looks from both your families.

You were watching Jason pass by your seat when something caught your eye - a familiar glint of metal on his key ring. Beside his motorcycle key and what you recognized as his Manor key hung a delicate rose pendant... and a very familiar brass key that you'd seen countless times at Scarlet's flower shop.

"When did you get a key to Scarlet's shop?" The question left your mouth before you could stop it, casual but pointed.

Jason froze mid-step, his expression flickering for just a split second - but long enough for you to catch it. Years of training with the Bats couldn't quite hide the deer-in-headlights look that crossed his face.

The pieces suddenly clicked into place.

"YOU'RE THE MYSTERY GUY!" The synchronized shout from you, Indi, and Petal made several people jump. Dick actually choked on his water.

"The one who's been leaving the poetry books?" Indi gasped.

"And the vintage botanical prints?" Petal added, her paintbrush forgotten mid-stroke.

"The reason she's been humming love songs while arranging flowers?" You finished, watching Jason's composure crack further with each accusation.

Tim's eyebrows had shot up so high they were practically in his hairline. "Jason, you've been dating Scarlet?"

"I... we..." Jason ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of nervousness. "It's not... we were going to tell everyone..."

"When?" Bruce asked, looking both amused and intrigued.

"Eventually," Jason muttered.

Your phone was already in your hand:

To: Scarlet

Message: JASON TODD?!?! THE POETRY BOOKS WERE FROM JASON?!

The response was almost immediate:

From: Scarlet

Message: ...I can explain?

Message: Actually no I can't. Surprise? 😅

Message: DO NOT TERRORIZE HIM I SWEAR TO GOD

"How long?" you demanded, turning back to Jason who was now looking increasingly like he wanted to jump out the nearest window.

"Six months," he admitted finally.

"SIX MONTHS?!" The collective exclamation made him wince.

"Does this mean Jason is going to be our brother-in-law?" Petal asked innocently, making Jason choke on air.

Your mother gave Indi a pointed look. She was glaring daggers through Jason's back with a protective older sister aura that made her seem like the biggest threat in the room – which, considering the present company of vigilantes, was quite an achievement.

"Indigo..." Your mom spoke in a warning tone. Indi tore her gaze away from Jason's backside.

"You can't blame me for being cautious," Indi mumbled, fingers tapping an agitated rhythm against her thigh. "Last guy she was with knocked her up and left."

"Maybe that's why Scarlet didn't tell us," you murmured under your breath. The moment the words left your mouth, you saw Indi's expression shift from anger to understanding, her shoulders dropping slightly.

Your mother placed a gentle hand on her eldest daughter's shoulder and guided her toward the kitchen for a private discussion. Left in the aftermath, you looked up at Jason and offered an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. Indi is just... protective. She doesn't show it often, but you didn't just come into one of her sisters' lives – you're in her nephew's life too." You explained, watching Jason's expression carefully. "And well, Scarlet didn't let us hunt down her ex." You lowered your voice to add, "Not that it stopped me."

Tim quirked a brow at you, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly. "I may have gotten him blacklisted in most of Gotham's elite circles?"

Tim let out an amused chuckle, not at all surprised you'd basically doxxed the guy. His arm tightened around you slightly – proud, not disapproving.

"Well, if I see the guy on the street it's on sight," Jason grumbled, his jaw set in a way that suggested he meant every word. The declaration made you and Petal both smile.

"That's enough for a seal of approval from me," you declared, then turned to your youngest sister. "What about you, Rose?"

Petal nodded with all the gravity of a supreme court justice delivering a verdict. "Agreed, sister." She leaned over toward Damian, whispering something that made him roll his eyes but nod nonetheless.

The sight made your chest swell with pride. If you hadn't gotten that job under Tim a few years back, none of this would have happened. Your families would have never merged into this beautiful chaos. Damian and Petal would never have become best friends (though Damian insisted Rose was "delusional" even while being first in line at her art galleries). Dick and Indi might never have found each other – and now they were planning her upcoming tour together, Dick already committed to joining her on the road.

Your eyes drifted to Bruce and your mom, who had been suspiciously meeting for lunch lately. They thought they were being subtle, dodging questions with practiced ease, but you and your sisters had your theories. The way they gravitated toward each other, sharing private smiles over coffee cups, hadn't gone unnoticed.

And now Jason and Scarlet. Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet

Message: Is the coast clear yet? Did Indi go full protective mode?

Message: Also please tell me you didn't mention the poetry he writes me

To: Scarlet

Message: HE WRITES YOU POETRY?!

Message: This keeps getting better 😈

You watched as Jason's phone buzzed, and his eyes widened slightly – no doubt getting a warning message from Scarlet about the poetry revelation.

Eventually, Indi returned, her expression softer but no less intense. She pulled Jason aside for what appeared to be both an apology and a series of creative threats about what would happen if he hurt her sister or nephew. From your angle, you could see Jason's expression shift from wary to respectful – recognizing and appreciating the fierce protection of family.

Your phone buzzed one final time:

From: Scarlet

Message: For what it's worth... he makes us really happy. Both of us.

Message: And Harkin adores him. Says he's cooler than Spider-Man now

Message: Just... don't let Indi scare him off? Please?

"How's Kori, Babs?" You looked over at Barbara who smiled warmly at the mention of her girlfriend. The way her whole face lit up never failed to make you happy – especially after everything they'd been through to get where they are now.

"She's doing good," Barbara's eyes sparkled with affection. "Actually, she's presenting at the National Astronomy Conference next week. She's been practicing her speech for days – keeps worrying her English isn't 'sufficiently academic.'" The air quotes made you chuckle.

"As if anyone could question her credentials," Dick chimed in from where he sat with Indi. "She literally navigates by starlight."

"Tell her I still want those space cookies she promised," Jason called out, then immediately looked like he regretted drawing attention to himself as Indi's protective gaze snapped back to him.

"Space... cookies?" your mom asked, looking both intrigued and slightly concerned.

"They're these amazing cookies Kori makes using a Tamaranean recipe," Tim explained. "They literally sparkle and somehow taste like stardust – if stardust was delicious."

"And completely safe for human consumption," Barbara added quickly, seeing your mom's expression. "Alfred helped her adapt the recipe."

"Indeed," Alfred confirmed from the kitchen. "Though I must say, some of the substitutions were quite... creative. Earth cinnamon is apparently a reasonable alternative to pulverized meteor dust."

"Scarlet's been trying to convince her to let us sell them at the shop," Jason mentioned, then immediately looked like he wished he could take the words back as everyone's attention returned to the revelation of his relationship.

"You've been hanging out at the shop?" Petal's eyes narrowed. "Is that why there've been fresh flowers in the Manor greenhouse?"

Jason's slight blush was all the confirmation needed.

"Kori's been teaching Jason the language of flowers," Barbara supplied helpfully, earning a betrayed look from Jason. "What? Kori told me. She thinks it's romantic."

"The fearsome Red Hood, learning Victorian flower meanings," Dick grinned. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Shut it, Grayson," Jason growled, but there was no real heat in it. "At least I don't write songs about Indi's eyes in the middle of patrol."

Now it was Dick's turn to blush as Indi turned to him with delighted surprise. "You write songs about my eyes?"

"I... that was supposed to be private, Jay," Dick muttered, but he was smiling as Indi pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet

Message: JASON KNOWS FLOWER LANGUAGES NOW?!

Message: Is that why my latest bouquets have been so specific??

Message: Tell him if the red carnations meant what I think they meant, then yes 🥰

To: Scarlet

Message: You two are disgustingly cute. I'm telling Indi.

From: Scarlet

Message: DON'T YOU DARE

Message: ...but also maybe tell her he's learning it properly? She always said a guy should know what he's saying with flowers...

"Scarlet says yes, by the way," you told Jason quietly, watching his face soften in a way you'd never seen before. "To whatever the red carnations meant."

The smile that spread across his face was enough to make even Indi's protective stance relax slightly.

"What did they mean?" Petal asked innocently.

"None of your business, Rosebud," Jason replied, but his voice was gentle.

"'My heart aches for you,'" your mom supplied casually, not looking up from her phone. When everyone stared at her, she shrugged. "What? I dated a florist in college. Some things stick with you."

You looked up at your expanding, complicated, beautiful family. Tim caught your eye and smiled, somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking.

"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" he murmured, just for you.

"Yeah," you agreed, watching as Alfred began distributing fresh cups of tea, as Bruce helped your mom with something on her phone, as Damian and Petal bent their heads together over her sketchbook, as Dick pulled Indi into a comforting embrace, as Jason typed what was probably a very apologetic message to Scarlet. "Pretty amazing.”

Taglist:

@ahqkas

@prettyktarou

@a-candle-maker

@mact85

@babxtxxn-blog

@mercys-manic-episode

@lilithskywalker

@princesstrunkz

@a-taken-url

@hisjdjs

@mellowtunekitty

@awkwardcrowberry

@vintageroses10

#fluff #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #tim drake #red robin #dc comics #dc universe #fem!reader #wayne family

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hotvintagepoll · 11 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Lauren Bacall (To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep, Key Largo)—"Just put your lips together...and blow" excuse me ma'am i'm briefly going to turn into a kettle. She's the quintessential Femme Fatale who may betray me in the end but I'd let her it'd be worth it

Gloria Grahame (It's a wonderful life, Oklahoma, Human desire, The Cobweb)—I'm just going to link to this Film Comment article by Donald Chase, who makes the argument more eloquently than I can, although I think Grahame's Ado Annie is more than just the 'flirtatious goofus' he offhandedly describes her as. Between that role and Violet Bick in 'It's a Wonderful Life" she's played two of cinemas best irrepressibly horny ladies. That would be legacy enough for our hot vintage queen, but she is also GLORIOUS in 'In a Lonely Place' and consistently pulls focus from her co-star Humphrey Bogart, famously one of the most charismatic leading men of his day. I think she had even more, and hotter, chemistry with him than he ever had with Lauren Bacall, which is saying a lot I know. Anyway, your honor I love her and I want her to win it all.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Lauren Bacall:

youtube

"She is soooo neat. And hot. And everything. That one scene in To Have and Have Not where she says "you know how to whistle don't you? You just put your lips together and blow" altered my brain chemistry during media archaeology class and here we are."

"Lauren Bacall was a major lesbian awakening for me. Every picture of her makes it look like she’s about to destroy you physically and emotionally (why is that so hot, I may need help). She had incredible long running chemistry with her husband, Humphrey Bogart, but was an absolute star in her own right. I’ll never be over my crush on her."

"She's got that confident, no-nonsense air about her. She's a boss babe who knows what she wants and gets it DONE. Staunch liberal Democrat her whole life. Campaigned for RFK. From Wikipedia: "In a 2005 interview with Larry King, Bacall described herself as "anti-Republican... A liberal. The L-word". She added that "being a liberal is the best thing on Earth you can be. You are welcoming to everyone when you're a liberal. You do not have a small mind."" Beautiful hair. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful lips. She's just beauty. LISTEN TO HER VOICE. TELL ME THAT'S NOT THE STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF."

"HER VOICE. Like yeah, she was absolutely stunning but oh my god, I'm obsessed with her voice"

"A gorgeous lady inside and out. One half of an absolute power couple with Humphrey Bogart, tended to him and other actors suffering from malaria whilst filming the African Queen, generally radiated grace and poise throughout her life. Also her last role was in Family Guy so she needs justice for that"

youtube

"The VOICE, the SLINK, the EYES. Woof."

"She was stunning. Tall and beautiful with a distinctive voice and able to carry her own in a male dominated field. She won the heart of millions, including one of Hollywood's most iconic leading men, Humphrey Bogart. Their story was the stuff of legends, and the chemistry between them was apparent in the multiple films they started in together. She personified the film noir dame and yet she also adapted as Hollywood changed. Her career spanned decades, and she was honored multiple times."

Gloria Grahame:

Absolute Hollywood vamp, who had a fine comedic bone. Died far too young and was depicted by Annette Bening in the stellar Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool

I’ve heard she’s horrendously miscast in Oklahoma (I have not seen it), so if you’re coming in with that framework PLEASE set that aside because gods does this woman shine in a NOIR!! She plays the battered woman more than a full on fatale, but she manages to bring interesting nuance to characters who are written as mere sultry divergences! Also: she’s sultry and an EXCELLENT divergence

She could do sexy, sweet and sinister in the same breath. She was crazy talented and had that lisp that melts me every time.

#gloria grahame #lauren bacall #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2 #Youtube

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elsweetheart · 2 years ago

Text

mean!ellie — back for more.

🎀 u guys wanted more mean!bff!ellie so here she is ! wrote this half asleep so pls. she’s pretty mean in this one, but she loves you really. it’s a follow up from this drabble i wrote. not many warnings, just ellie bein a meanie. masturbation, ellie threatens to kill u but in a lighthearted way i swr… she also gets a lil forceful toward the end but in a sexy way that the reader has no problems with <3

she didn’t even say hi, just turned up at your door and started calling the shots. she atleast had the decency to act a little bashful about it, hands swinging by her sides awkwardly on your doorstep, brow cutely scrunched up a little in frustration.

“wanna see it again.” she quietly ordered, not hiding her gaze when it dropped down to your attire — just a tank top and pyjama shorts. you weren’t expecting her today, and now here she was on your doorstep.

“see what, els?” you tilt your head a little, which seems to frustrate her a little. you really make things difficult when you’re this fucking cute — your best friend thought. she shuffled impatiently, nodding inside.

“canyoujust— let me in? s’cold as shit.” she rolls her eyes and you instantly step aside, the chill of her body bringing a icy breeze over you as she passes you, shaking the snow off her jacket. your nipples harden beneath your tank top at the cold and she’s looking once again.

she rips her eyes away to nod in gesture to your bedroom, heading up and just expecting you to follow. you do, obedient as ever.

standing in front of her now, she gazed at your bed. made and neat, your stuffed animals that usually made her scoff piled up at the pillows. “wanna… see you fuck the pillow again.” she shrugs like it’s nothing and you stare at her wide eyes.

“uh—” you falter, wide eyed, hating how quickly you felt arousal seeping into you at just the thought of getting off infront of her again. the memory of last time a ghost in your panties.

“just… show me.” she interrupts, an impatient bite to her voice. anything for els, you think as you nod — clambering on the bed with doe eyes, looking back at her for approval when you reach for a pillow. you go to straddle it when she speaks. “take those off.” she sways on her feet, still standing by the bed with her backpack, eyes glued to your ass straining against the material of your pyjamas.

“‘kay, els.” you nod, so submissive — as always. you feel heat rise to your cheeks but you push through it, eager to please her. rolling onto your back, you peel your panties off, giving ellie a view of your pretty pussy.

“fuck.” was all she said, and it was enough to encourage you on, feeling more wetness seep out despite only having entertained the idea of performing for ellie once more for a minute or so. you fold the pillow, taking a shaky breath in as you straddle it.

your hips twitch against it, and you’re hyper aware of her silent stare. was she judging? was she curious? did she just wanna push you to see how far you’d go again? in your head, you whimpered — trying to readjust yourself and shake your nerves.

“what?” she deadpanned, knowing you like the back of her hand. on the inside, she panicked a little — fearing she made you uncomfortable or scared. when you didn’t respond, the panic flared up worse. “what?” she repeat, eyes widening a little more as her arms came up by her sides.

“just… why do you wanna see?” you pout, insecurity written across your face.

“because it was fucking sexy, okay?” she rolled her eyes, hating that she was blowing her cover. she had really hauled ass through the snow to your house just because she wanted to see you, and hear your pretty moans again. she watched your expression soften, confidence built a little and she went back to her mean old self, waving a hand. “so get to it? didn’t come over here for nothing.” she stuffed her hands in her pockets, seemingly unfazed by the fact she was stood in the middle of your room watching you hump a pillow.

her meanness sparked arousal in your cunt and your breath hitched, brows furrowing as you softly moved your slit against the material, the fabric rolling up to your clit. as you got more and more lost in the pleasure, ellie began circling around you — wanting to see from different angles. you honestly thought she looked cute, a curious expression as she leant forward, licking her lips when your hips would stutter or you’d whine a little louder— but she wasn’t saying anything, not giving you anything to use as material apart from her presence.

“ellie.” you moan, still being soft as you can as you grind on the pillow shyly. your minuscule hip movements had somehow rendered you close to orgasm, you just needed something to tip you over the edge. “please talk t’me. need your voice.” you whimper, embarrassed tears behind your eyes.

“you need my voice?” she deadpans, falling into your trap.

“mhm, m—makes me… mmph.” you cut yourself off, deciding you still had the brain power to keep yourself from admitting something embarrassing.

“makes you what?” she crossed her arms, stepping closer to the bed.

“makes me horny.” you flush all over, clit throbbing at the soft brushes of the pillow. she chuckles, shaking her head almost disapprovingly.

“doesn’t take much does it?” she snarks. “you want me to tell you how pretty you look huh? you know you look fucking pretty, s’why i’m here. was dying to see you get off for fucks sake.” she rasps, and you whimper in response— thighs clenching. she was so composed, and you was losing your composure by the second, the contrast making you unbelievably close. you close your eyes, squeezing them shut like you’re concentrating hard on getting to your orgasm and she pities you just a bit, feeding you just a little more to help you along. “…you’re good too, aren’t you? always do what i say. i don’t think normal best friends do this shit. letting me watch you make that pretty little pussy talk.” she observed, the position you were humping in causing your cunt to part with each small roll of your hips, the wetness creating a sound that made her wanna strap you ‘til you cried. all in good time, she thought. had to break you first.

“glad i’m the only one who gets to see you like this. shit, i swear if you told me you did this for anyone else i’d kill them and then you.” she comment casually, but the lighthearted threat was what sent you over the edge. you suddenly fell forward, movements becoming stuttered and uneven as you suddenly got a whole lot louder, eyelashes dampening as you came— pussy catching the light with its new sheen. ellie watched in awe, going over what she just said in her mind and wondering why the hell that was what made you cum.

you collapsed forward a little more, eyes still closed as you pant — catching your breath after the orgasm that was still dying in your stomach and trailing out your cunt. her voice broke through the whirring white noise in your ears, grounding you. “thats what did it for you? me threatening to kill someone over you? or was it me threatening to kill you?” you don’t dare look at her, hearing the shit-eating smirk in her voice. “‘was wasn’t it… that’s sick baby.”

you feel your pussy twitch at the nickname, and as if she read your mind — she spoke again.

“again. c’mon, you can make more noise than that this time.”

“k—kay. just… just give me a second. m’sensitive n’i need to—” she cut your shaky excuse off when you heard her march up behind her with an irritated tsk, the dip of her weight in the mattress behind you before you felt her strong hands on either one of your ass cheeks. you gasped as you started aggressively rocking you on the pillow.

“like this. see. s’not hard, you’re just bein’ a big fuckin’ baby about it.” she pushed you harder, making you roll your pathetic, throbbing cunt into the firm rolled up pillow and you sobbed — the delicious pain morphing into pleasure.

“els— please!” you cried and her hands rose to your waist, continuing to help your movements.

“oh whatever, cry all you want i know you like this.” she muttered, focused on abusing your pretty pussy.

she wasn’t wrong.

#mean!ellie #mean!bff!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams smut

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