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loulovingho · 1 month ago

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Make It Ours

aka the one where Tommy asks Buck to move in

It started a little ridiculously. Buck didn't usually decorate his place for Halloween, but in his excitement over Bobby being back he'd gotten way too much for the firehouse and had a lot left over. So he took some paper bats home and hung them from his ceiling.

That should have been the end of it.

“We've got enough candy for a small army, I'm sure,” Buck said, resting his head on Tommy's chest, a hand softly rubbing over his pec.

“We don't really have any kids that come out to Harbor. A few of the kids whose parents are on shift will stop by, but that's about it.”

“Were you a Halloween fan growing up?” Buck asked, chills running up his spine as Tommy's fingers massaged his scalp.

“Oh yeah. We didn't really have the money to afford costumes, but I'd make stuff from old sheets or clothes that didn't fit me anymore. There was one year where-” Tommy stopped suddenly, and Buck looked up at him to see him staring out over the loft. “Are your bats animatronic?” he asked.

Buck's eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

Tommy nodded his head in their direction. “They're moving.”

“Oh,” Buck glanced back briefly. “Probably the air coming on. Makes them swing sometimes.”

Tommy halfway settled back into the bed, but it didn't last very long, because soon enough one of those “decorations” started flying directly into the bedroom. Then there was another, and another.

“Evan, you have bats!” Tommy exclaimed.

“I- oh my God, I have bats!”

Ironically, Tommy did not love all things that flew. Buck had known this since they went to the zoo two months into their relationship and ventured into the butterfly exhibit. That's when he saw Tommy dripping with sweat, barely taking a breath and clutching Buck's hand until he asked what was wrong.

And now, watching a 6'2 man made mostly out of muscle race to put on a shirt and shorts, foregoing underwear completely, so he could duck out of the loft with a yelp was truly fascinating.

The fact that he only stopped briefly to give Buck a kiss and tell him to grab his things and meet him at his place was the icing on the cake.

That man was inside me twenty minutes ago, Buck thought, a baby bat swooping above him. He felt nothing but pride.

Within an hour, he was bringing a suitcase and work duffel into Tommy's place. Tommy, on his part, had emptied him two extra drawers to go along with the one he already had there. He'd made space for him in the bathroom as well, and cleared a section of the kitchen counter because, “I figured you'd bring some of your cooking stuff with you.”

He wasn't wrong.

It took a few weeks for the bat issue to be resolved, due to the fact that Buck's landlord was out of town and no one else seemed to know what to do.

Once the place had been cleared of the bats, it took extra time for Buck to be able to air out his place and clean the droppings that had been so graciously left behind.

It didn't help that he had a pretty busy schedule, taking extra shifts before he knew he'd have a bat problem.

Eventually, Buck ran out of reasons to keep himself at Tommy's place.

One morning, as he got ready for his 24 and Tommy got ready for his 48, he decided it was time. “I think my place is now free and clear of everything the bats left behind,” he said, pouring coffee into Tommy's travel mug, then swapping it out for his own. “I'll be able to pick up all my stuff after my shift and get out of your hair.”

“Hm," Tommy hummed. "You should just move in here." It was so nonchalant it sounded the same as when he ordered his usual from the taco bar down the street.

Buck froze mid pour. “I- I should what?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated with a shrug, “if you want.” He walked over to Buck and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Think about it, Babe. I gotta go. Love you.”

“Yeah, I- I... I love you too.”

Tommy grabbed his mug off the counter and headed out the door, leaving Buck feeling like a deer in headlights.

Part of him wanted to chase Tommy out the door and ask, “How dare you ask so casually?!” The other part was eternally grateful Tommy exited briskly and gave him time to think it over.

Because, wasn't it too soon? He'd only ever done this moving in together thing one other time, and that wasn't exactly for a good reason.

They'd only said I love you for the last couple months. The words still sounded new, still made his heart swell every time they came out of Tommy's mouth. Still blushed when he said it back.

And did Tommy actually mean it? He did have a dry sense of humor that was sometimes easy to miss. Maybe this was one of those times. It was just a joke and he was meant to brush it off with a laugh.

He wasn't sure how long he actually stood there with a half filled mug of coffee in front of him, but eventually his phone dinged and pulled him out of his thoughts.

Stop panicking. Yes, I meant it. Seriously, just think about it.

Buck rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that rose on his face.

Hate you. Be safe.

He only had to wait a few seconds for a reply.

Love you too. You be safer.

*****

“I'm kind of freaking out,” Buck said as Maddie grabbed her lunch from the fridge.

“Why are you freaking out?”

“Tommy asked me to move in with him.”

She paused briefly, eyebrows going up as she stood at the counter. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. Wh- Why really? You think it's too soon, don't you? It's too soon. That's what I thought when he asked, well suggested is more like it. He suggested I move in, and then told me to think about it, and then he left for work and then I left for work. And he told me not to panic and that he actually meant it, but-”

“Buck, I didn't mean anything by my really,” she interrupted, reaching out and squeezing his hand. “Honestly, I figured that was gonna happen once you stayed with him during the whole bat thing.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. “I- I mean, you did?”

“You already spend more time at his place than your own. The bats were taken care of, what, almost a week ago?”

“Yeah.”

“And how many nights have you stayed at your place since then?”

“Well... Well, I had to work a couple of those days,” he tried to reason, “and then it made more sense to go to his place because we wanted to see each other but we were both tired from work.”

“You don't have to explain yourself, Buck,” she assured him. “I'm only saying it's not actually all that surprising.”

When Buck didn't look any more relieved than when he'd come into the call center, Maddie continued, “Have you made a pro/con list?”

He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and laid it on the countertop for Maddie to take. “Of course I did.”

She picked it up and read it over. “Great butt is number three? Did not need to know that.”

“It- It's a very detailed list,” he replied seriously.

“I can see that,” she agreed. “Although I can't help but notice there are no actual cons on this list.” She slid the paper back to him.

“That's why I'm freaking out.”

“Is this a bi crisis?” Josh asked, walking into the break room. “Because, if so, I feel like I should be involved. Also, I've been listening and I have something to say. May I?”

Buck nodded his head, resting his hands on the countertop. “Please. I- I could use all the help I can get.”

“Great. First of all, why are you trying to talk yourself out of it?”

“Because... Because, seven months ago I didn't even know I was bi, and then there was Tommy. And it's been great. He's funny, and kind, and he listens, and he's so hot-"

"Okay," Maddie waved for him to move on.

"Even when we argued, you know, we stuck around and worked it out. It's the healthiest relationship I've ever been in. It's the happiest relationship I've ever been in.”

“God, this sounds awful,” Josh deadpanned.

“Yeah, listen, Buck, if you don't want him I'll take him,” Maddie added with a smile. “I don't think Howie would mind.”

Buck grinned. “I'm just saying, it all seems so fast. I keep trying to think of reasons to say no, or wait a few more months, but I- I can't.”

“Okay, maybe you can't think of a reason to say no, because there's no good reason to say no,” Josh replied. “How's it been staying with him while the bats took over your place?”

“It's... It's been great. I thought there would be a big adjustment, but there really wasn't. He hasn't seemed bothered by my stuff being there, and it's been nice having someone to, ya know, come home to,” he added, a blush rising on his cheeks.

“Have you had any of the big conversations yet?” Maddie asked. “You know, kids, marriage, stuff like that?”

“Mhm. We agree on everything.”

Josh glanced at Maddie before replying. “I really don't see the problem here, Buck.”

“You don't think it's too soon?”

“I think,” Josh sighed. “I think life is really short, which you probably know better than anybody. And if Tommy makes you as happy as it sounds like he does, then you're the only one stopping you from that happiness.”

Buck rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a deep breath. “Sometimes, I still feel like a fraud,” he admitted. “Like it all came too easy. You know, I- I've heard how rough it was for Tommy to come out and all the crap he went through for years. I figure out I like guys and get a boyfriend in the same day, six months later he's asking me to move in and I can picture my entire life with him.”

“I think that's your brain messing with you,” Josh said. “Because to me, it sounds like you've had thirty-three years of searching for something that feels real, and good, and settled. And you've found it with Tommy.”

Maddie nodded. “I agree. He's good to you, Evan. Everyone can see you two love each other. I can honestly say I've never seen you happier or more sure of yourself. You don't need to doubt that. You need to let yourself have a win.”

A smile started to grow on Buck's face. He was pretty sure he'd already made up his mind, but there was still one thing that worried him. “What if it doesn't work out?”

“Then you do the opposite of what you're about to do,” Josh answered simply, “and you move back out.”

*****

Tommy already knew Buck was at his place before he got inside. The giant Jeep in his driveway was always a dead giveaway.

Half of him expected Buck's things to be neatly packed up by the door, ready to move back into his loft until his lease was officially up.

The other half expected him to be sitting on the couch with a downcast look on his face that said I'm not ready to move in with you without having to actually say it.

What he didn't expect was the door to swing back on him due to it slamming into boxes.

Once he managed to hold the door open and scoot inside, he looked around at well over twenty boxes that were littered around the entryway of his place, leading into the living room.

“Evan?” he called out, a smile already on his face.

“Here!” he exclaimed, exiting Tommy's bedroom and hurrying down the hall. “Here, I'm here! So-” Buck paused briefly to give Tommy a peck on the lips, then continued through the maze of boxes as he headed for the kitchen, Tommy following behind. “This isn't everything, obviously, but I don't actually think I'll be bringing all that much from my place. The bats pooped on a lot. Like, a whole lot. Plus, I like your furniture. The kitchen will have to have some new appliances, but I already ordered what the bats, you know, pooped on. You need to let me know what appliances have a family history for you- if that's a thing- before I throw them out. Some of this stuff is, well, it's terrible. Why don't you sharpen your knives, Tommy? Mind blowing. I know the boxes are kinda a mess, but I didn't want to unpack without you because that feels like me just taking over, ya know, and I don't wanna-”

Buck was stopped by Tommy grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him in close. He wrapped his arms around Buck's waist, and Buck's arms rested over Tommy's shoulders.

“I'm guessing this is a yes to moving in?” Tommy asked, nose scrunching up in a smile.

Buck let out a deep breath, grinning back. “Yes. It- It's a yes.”

“You didn't freak out too much?”

“I didn't freak out at all,” Buck protested weakly.

“Evan.”

“Okay, I freaked out a little,” he replied, ducking his head, “but not for the reasons you think.”

Tommy tilted Buck's chin so their eyes met. “What reasons?”

“I... The fact there wasn't a reason to say no. I- I freaked because it felt like it should feel too soon, but it didn't. It doesn't. It feels right.”

That's when Tommy leaned in for a kiss far less chaste than the one Buck had given him when he opened the door.

“Do we have to start unpacking tonight?” Tommy asked when they parted, resting their foreheads against one another.

Buck shook his head. He brought his hands to the nape of Tommy's neck and drew him in again, his tongue parting Tommy's lips. Clumsily, they began making their way toward their bedroom without letting one another go.

“Maybe we could work on christening the place then?” Tommy suggested, his nose brushing up against Buck's cheek. “For good luck or whatever.”

“Mmm,” Buck moaned, grabbing at the hem of Tommy's shirt and pulling it over his head quickly, tossing it on top of a box. “You have the best ideas, roomie.”

Tommy snorted at that, his head tossing back in laughter. “God, I love you.”

Somehow, they managed to make it to the bedroom, and Buck gently pushed Tommy down before crawling over him, leaning down to whisper against his lips, “I love you too.”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #ive got my clown nose on and I'm ready for buck to move into tommy's place #let me live #also when you aren't sure how to end a fic #an i love you always works

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year ago

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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

#steddie #my fic #wayne pov #wayne munson #eddie munson #honestly this didnt go the way i thought it would #so there will be a third and final part. Wayne's gonna make it right because he's a good uncle. A good dad.#SPOILER: steve doesnt even show up in this part so im not tagging him

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lady-of-endless · 9 months ago

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i was thinking of maybe kid, katakuri and law for the one bed trope! but if you only accept 2 i'll go with kid and katakuri (we don't have enough hcs of this beautiful man)! thank you so much again for your time <3 hope you have an amazing day!

Only one bed trope/ Being forced to share a bed for the first time (Trafalgar D Water Law, Eustass Kid, Charlotte Katakuri)

Author's Note: YES FOR KATAKURI. Thank you so much for requesting him. Let there be only one bed.

Trafalgar D Water Law

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

The most unaffected looking of all. Only seeming unfazed. He's slightly bothered by the inconvenience. To be clear, not because of you, but more because he's used to sleeping alone at night. There were times in which you napped next to him as he studied and he thinks it should probably be the same thing.

- Law doesn't want to make a big deal out of it but it's something new to him as well. You'll understand this because he's somehow a bit hesitant in his actions and words. He'll pay close attention to your reactions and try to act in tune with you like he's testing the waters without wanting you to notice a change in his attitude.

- He wishes for silence as you lay down to go to sleep but realizes that it feels so damn odd. So please try to say something. You two will conversate for a while, staring at the ceiling, some space between your bodies. Law starts to relax bit by bit and you can hear it in his voice that's becoming more softer.

- He falls asleep the last because of his many thoughts and plans for the next day. However, when he glances over you and notices how peaceful you look, his thoughts go silent. He also feels relieved to have you next to him resting safely for some reason he doesn't want to admit.

- Because you fall asleep before him, Law allows himself to whisper a barely audible goodnight to you.

- As motionless as he is when sleeping, in the morning you'll probably wake up with his head on your shoulder and an arm over your torso. You won't get a reaction from him when he wakes up like that, but be convinced that deep down he starts thinking about how he really had a good sleep next to you.

Eustass Kid

- "Sucks for you to sleep on the floor tonight."

Kid will blurt out casually, at the sight of the single bed in the room. He bets that you think he's joking when in reality he's serious. But it turns out that you're serious too, not laughing or whatever.

- Once he sees you being serious, not having it, and frowning at him, his expression drops as he realizes that you'll probably have to share the bed. Oh shit. Kid freezes for a good minute then he snaps out of it and tries to act cool and unfazed but you can notice a blush on his face. Don't you dare point it out.

- As you both go to bed, he looks so grumpy and annoyed although, he makes sure you have enough space to be comfy and throws the only blanket totally over your body.

- He falls asleep the first. But if not, when Kid thinks you're asleep, he takes a look at your figure next to him and sighs at his impulses. He gives in and scoops closer and wraps his arm around you, doing all of this as gently as he can so it won't wake you up. If you decide to remain silent, that's perfect. If not, he'll quickly argue that you looked cold and shout to stop smirking like an idiot at him.

- This man snores, sorry about that. But give him a gentle push or a tug and the snoring somehow stops. Also, he forgets to wish you goodnight, he just falls asleep so abruptly. You two might talk before sleep and suddenly when you ask him something, he won't respond anymore, not because he doesn't want to but because he already fell asleep.

- In the morning, you'll have to wake him up because he also sleeps very deeply. It's going to be a challenge since he's all over you.

Charlotte Katakuri

- "You will take the bed."

It's the only thing he says at first, calmly, not even considering his comfort for a second or the possibility of you wanting to share a bed with him.

- You'll have to convince him to sleep together in the bed for his good as well and that will take a while. Good luck. However, when he gives in and realizes that he will sleep next to you, something in him warms up.

- Even after that talk, he is still tempted to ask if you're alright with sharing a bed but he stays silent. Mainly because he wants to keep his composure and secondly because he starts to warm up to the idea.

- No blanket? No problem. If you look cold, he'll put his scarf over you and maybe his vest. His body temperature is naturally high. He won't embrace you because he wants to be respectful. (this brings me to the next hc)

- He tries so much to take as little space as he can on the bed but his large frame makes it so very uncomfortable. Doesn't say a word about it, not complaining. It makes you feel a little bad. However, in the morning, you somehow wake up on top of his body, and his arms wrapped around you keeping you there like you're the most precious thing in the world. And you are to him, he just didn't get to tell you that yet.

- He is the type to jolt a bit because of falling asleep too abruptly.

#one piece #trafalgar d water law #law trafalgar #eustass kid #charlotte katakuri #one piece hc #one piece headcanons #trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar law x reader #eustass kid x reader #katakuri x reader #one piece requests

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kiwi-cult · 7 months ago

Text

PARSELSCRIPT!!

Hi. This is mostly for the people from Discord but tadah! I'm finally making that Tumblr post I've been talking about for months.

(Warning this will probably be very chaotic)

To anyone new who sees this: me and some friends made an alphabet for Parseltongue from Harry Potter, aka Parselscript. I'll take you on a little journey to explain my process and give you some tips, should you want to start writing it.

Disclaimer: I wanted to make this script usable for the writer I made it for so it's less of an actual language and more just some characters to represent the Latin (or ‘English’) letters. Like a cipher. It is not realistic. If I made this realistic I'd have to add all sorts of things to indicate body language and smell etc and also have to figure out what sounds Parseltongue actually has etcetera etcetera. No.

Alright.

It all started when we started talking about Parselscript in a Discord server and I asked my friend Ava to visualise the script because she seemed to have a clear vision of it, so I could use it to go from there.

That's how we got this.

I think we all wanted to go with something flowery for some reason, so we did.

After this I just messed around with brushes and shapes in Procreate for a while, tweaking things and trying to make it more writeable. I ended up with something like this (still a rough draft).

It may look a bit like random squiggles at first, and it kinda was at this point. As you can see there's also a lot of added dots and lines, which can be a bit hard to remember and I see you wondering what it looks like without them.

Well here it is.

I showed this to the people I brainstormed with in Discord and we decided to go with the more complicated version because it looks better lol.

This is one of the final versions.

It says: "Hello, my name is Kiwi Cult. I made this script after reading a fanfic called Terrible, But Great written by Isalise the loml on Archive Of Our Own."

Now, to talk about some of the (boring) logistics.

It is read from left to right, top to bottom.

Every separate combination of squiggles you see above is a separate word. Every word is made up of a starting character, one or more letter characters and an ending character.

The very first character you see in the top left corner, with the three petal looking thingies, is a silent starting character that indicates the start of a sentence. Not word: sentence. The end of the character, that little circle thingy, is a comma. So, the first combination says: "Hello,".

Then, the second combination starts with a kind of hook going down and right. This is also a silent character and more meant as an interpunction, that's why you don't pronounce it. It's kind of just a way to start the word when there isn't anything special about it (aka it's not the start of a sentence, a name, an exclamation or a question. But every character is special in its own right🥲). The same kind of hook can be found at the bottom of the combination, except going up. It has the same use, basically just a way to end the word when there isn't anything special about it. Now, you might ask: why does it go right and not left?

We talked about this a while, because I wanted the direction to have some kind of meaning. We wondered about gender, tone, blah blah all kinds of complicated things but in the end I just wanted this script to be writable so I chose to have proficient writers in Parseltongue make their hooks go left and beginners have their hooks go right.

Now, you might notice that I end my words with a hook going right. That is because I don't see myself as a pro in writing in Parselscript okay? It's hard!😭💀

Now, other than the character indicating the start of a sentence, the circle, and the simple hook, there are a few other characters to start or end a combination (don't worry I'll show them all to you at the end, you won't have to use your imagination for long).

We have a character to indicate a name. Now, the rule is: name indicator over start of sentence indicator. So, if you start a sentence with a name, you'll use the symbol to indicate a name, NOT BOTH. (That's not even possible but I don't even want to see you try and butcher my child).

There is a character to indicate a sentence that would usually be followed by an exclamation mark (!), but at the start of the sentence. Then you’d end the exclamated sentence with a period.

The same goes for a question mark (?): put it at the start of a question, not the end. Again, it wouldn't even be possible to use it at the end of a combination but I DON'T EVEN WANNA SEE YOU TRY.

Finally we have a period (.), which looks a bit like a flower with four petals. You do use this one at the end of a word, and it is always followed by a start of sentence indicator or a name indicator. I know people are rejecting capitals these days in their typing but I don't wanna see it. If you start a word after a period with a hook I will find you.

If a sentence starts with a name that is also a question or exclamation you’d use the question/exclamation mark above the name indicator, otherwise it would take away a vital part of the sentence while a name can still be read even if it doesn’t have its indicator.

So, to put it all next to each other, the symbols we have are: -start of sentence indicator -name indicator -exclamation mark (!) -question mark (?) -period (.) -hook (direction depends on efficiency) -comma (,) (direction depends on efficiency)

I didn't make adjusted characters to indicate a capital letter like we do in the Latin alphabet, meaning that the only things you can kind of 'capitalise' are the start of a sentence and the start of a name.

It is also slightly phonetic. Emphasis on slightly. I made separate characters for almost all letters in the Latin alphabet, so you can just write your word normally with Parselscript characters. The only difference is that I made only one character for the 'f/v' sounds and that there is no 'c' character. If a word has a 'c' in it, you'll have to use the character for a 'k' or an 's'. Also a ‘q’ can be made with ‘k’ and ‘w’ etc.

A few examples: -character=karakter -parselscript=parselskript -crazy=krazy -science=siense

-quiz=kwuiz

I know it looks a bit confusing, but I trust you guys' ability to read context clues and figure out what someone means when you try to decipher Parselscript.

Now, for a word like 'phonetic' or 'decipher' I don't really care whether you use the separate characters for 'p' and 'h' or just the one for the 'f/v' sound. You do you.

I also don’t use any double letters because they basically sound the same and it looks ugly but if you want to use double symbols feel free.

I also made some numbers that do not look like they fit with the rest of the script but I promise you that's just because you're not used to it yet. Our own numbers don't belong with our alphabet either because we nicked them from the Arabs (I think, don't quote me on this) but we don’t notice that either.

Tadah. (Yes I know it’s out of order I told you this was gonna be chaotic af)

Other than that, feel free to ask me questions if I've forgotten anything or if you're wondering about anything. I can't guarantee that I have a good answer because I might not even have thought about it myself, but I can always try to come up with something. I am one person, I'm afraid I haven't been able to take everything about a script into consideration.

Now, without further ado; here is the key.

No, your eyes didn't deceive you: there are two versions. The first has a bit more loose squiggles than the second one. I realised that when I was writing physically, the second version was much nicer to write, so it is kind of like Simplified Parselscript. I haven't decided yet if I'm gonna put some lore behind it or not yet. But I included the og one if you're a tryhard and wanna take it on.

Now, if you're gonna start writing it yourself, here is the stroke order.

I tried to make it as clear as possible but please ask me if you're confused on anything.

Red is the starting point of the whole symbol, the arrows indicate the direction to go in, x marks the start of the small extra's.

Now, I'd also recommend writing on some type of paper with vertical lines like this if you're gonna do it physically.

You can just turn a paper with normal, horizontal lines a quarter to get vertical lines. Also, do NOT write in between the lines. They are meant to help you keep the start and ending on the same line so you don't start going into crazy directions while writing. So, start your sentence symbol or hook or whatever in the middle of the line and try to keep coming back to that vertical line after every letter. As you gain more proficiency you'll probably go straight into the next letter without going back to the line all the time but I think this is a good starting point.

I also recommend writing with a fountain pen or something else that flows well because it’s easier to write that way.

Here is another rough draft I made on physical paper to get a feel for it. As you can see this draft had a lot more different starting characters and ending characters so just ignore that. Hope this motivates you a bit or smth.

Lmk if you want me to post a video of me writing in this Parselscript.

Also please let me know if you know of someone else who's also made a Parselscript because I tried to look for it on Tumblr and Twitter etc but I couldn't find anything.

I also feel like there’s a big mistake I made that I realised the last time I worked on this script but I’ve forgotten it now so if you find out please comment or dm or anything💀

Also feel free to use in your own fic, tho a little tiny shoutout in the a/n would be nice :) I’m @/kiwi_cult on Ao3, @/slvtr_ on Wattpad, @/kiwi cult on ff.net, @/slvtr.1 on TikTok and @/.slvtr on Discord.

Credits:

@natis-balamnimaja @asterialvia and @/zee (who unfortunately left the server and I don't know the Tumblr @ of) for brainstorming with me and @isalisewrites for inspiring us and making the server we discussed this in.

Okay bye :) tell me if I forgot anything.

🥝

#fanfiction #isalise #parselscript #parseltongue #hogwarts #harry potter #language stuff #alphabet #script #tom riddle #worldbuilding #ao3

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crappy-writings · 3 months ago

Text

Safe

Maria HillxReader // Angst/Fluff

*Image is not mine, credit to its creator

Summary: When the Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. Facility is destroyed and you’re trapped under the rubble, Maria has to balance her job as Deputy Director and her relationship with you.

Trigger Warnings: FwB relationship (mentioned), Cursing, Guns, Death, Anxiety, Hospitals, Injuries, Amputation (mentioned), I think that’s it.

No pronouns for the reader were used, I think

Word Count: 6,970

A/N: Thanks to this Reddit thread for helping me figure out the timeline of The Avengers, as well as all the Marvel Wiki pages I visited, lol

Anyways, I'll forever be mad at Secret Invasion for doing my girl so dirty, so I'm jumping back to 2012 Avengers. Don't know if this sucks, so constructive criticism is always welcome.

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist | Recced Fics Masterlist

May 2nd, 02:47 hrs

“Sir, evacuation may be futile,” Maria says as she steps down the stairs, right on Fury’s heels. “We should tell them to go back to sleep?” Fury turns his head towards her while still descending the stairs. “If we can’t control the Tesseract’s energy, there may not be a minimum safe distance,” she argued.

“I need you to make sure the Phase Two prototypes are shipped out,” Fury orders as he reaches the entrance to where the Tesseract was being kept. “Sir, is that really a priority right now?” she asks incredulously.

“Until such time as the world ends, we will act as though it intends to spin on,” he says, turning towards her, his tone leaving no room to argue, “Clear out the tech below. Every piece of Phase Two on a truck and gone.”

“Yes, sir,” she says as she passes him by. She had her orders. “With me,” she orders the men who stood at either side of the door as she descends into the lower levels of the facility.

“Dispatch any available teams to the underground levels. Clear out any and all remaining Phase Two prototypes,” she speaks into her communicator. To say that Maria did not agree with focusing on the Phase Two prototypes would be an understatement. If anything, determining a minimum safety distance should be top priority, if there even is one. If not, destroying the Tesseract would be a better option. Regardless of what she thought though, she trusted Fury to know what he was doing. He is the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. for a reason.

“Copied, two additional teams have been dispatched,” the deep voice of an agent rang through her communicator.

The two dispatched teams were already there by the time she arrived at the underground lot, yours being one of them. She takes in a deep breath and subtly braces herself. She was hoping she would not be running into you for at least a few days.

The two men who came down with her began helping both teams with the prototypes. You load up a few boxes before closing the trunk of the truck, the slam echoing throughout the underground garage.

“Davidson, you’re driving this one,” you said as you threw a set of keys to one of the agents. Davidson catches the keys easily. “Menendez, Martinez, and Lee, you’re going up with Davidson. Gold leader is already waiting topside.”

“You,” you point to one of the new arriving agents, “What’s your name?”

“Agent Callahan,” the man you pointed at responded.

“I’ll have you join Davidson,” you order as you turn to the other agent, “what about you?”

“Agent Moore,” the agent replied. You nod in acknowledgement, “You’re joining my team in the meantime.”

The five agents jumped inside the truck and began transporting the prototypes to the surface.

“Harris, you’re driving that one over there once it’s loaded up. Williams, Parker, Garcia and Moore are going with you. Bennett, you’ll be riding with me,” you continue giving out orders, “Gold leader is waiting for us before moving to the established rendezvous point.”

As you turn to load more boxes, you notice the Deputy Director standing between the cylindrical columns of the large underground parking space. Your gaze lingered on her for a few moments before grabbing one of the small crates and putting it in the truck. Maria noticed this but ignored it. She cannot afford to be distracted by you and this… fling.

She did not know how to describe your relationship as it stood.

“Keep loading boxes, I’ll be back in a minute,” you tell your team, before climbing up the platform and standing beside her.

“Most of the equipment has already been moved, Gold leader’s team is en route, and my team is taking care of the last few boxes. This should be the last truck from this level and Red and Blue leader reported their levels are cleared. We should be out of here in no more than eight, ten minutes,” you report, crossing your arms over your chest as you oversee your team along with her.

“Make it five,” she says without looking at you, “I want everyone out of here as quickly as possible.” Her posture remained stiff beside you, and you couldn’t help but be upset by that.

“Have you thought about what I told you?” you ask quietly. Her posture does not ease. She instead inhales sharply.

“Yes,” her tone was tense, her answer short. “And?” you prodded after a few beats of silence. “I don’t know,” she answers.

You sigh in disappointment, but you were not surprised. For as long as you’re known the woman beside you, her main focus has always been her job. You knew this going into this ‘relationship.’ The “friends with benefits” thing had been working out just fine. You met up whenever you wanted to, did whatever you wanted to with no strings attached. But just like one of those cliché movies you sometimes watched, you caught feelings for the woman who had become now more closed off than ever.

Despite your attempts to keep your changed feelings hidden, she had noticed the subtle shift in your actions, gestures and the way you spoke to her. You yourself did not think you were doing anything different, but apparently, you were wrong. She asked you if anything had changed and you were honest. You told her your feelings about the arrangement had changed and were wanting something more with her, if she agreed. You were foolish for bringing it up at all to her.

She began to shut you out almost immediately, much to your anger and disappointment. Thus, you offered her a sort of ultimatum. She was to decide what she wanted out of the ‘relationship’, out of you, but if she could not, you would call everything off and you would go your separate ways.

The echo of a trunk closing snaps you out of your thoughts. The truck’s engine turns on and you watch as Harris and the other assigned agents drive out of the lot. “Green leader, do you copy?” your comms buzzed with the other team leader’s voice. “Yes, Gold leader, I copy. The remaining prototypes are already en route to topside. Do we have the green light?” you ask.

“Yes, we do. We are awaiting you and the rest of our teams to arrive up here to head for the rendezvous. See you in a few minutes.”

“Will do Gold Leader, expect us in about 10 minutes, over and out,” you shut off your comms device. You take a deep breath before turning to her, your face serious.

“I need an answer soon, Hill. I don’t like wasting my time,” you say quietly before straightening up and leaving her side.

“Alright Bennett, hop in, time to go,” you announce loudly as you jump down from the platform, “Let’s go!”

Maria watches you hop into one of the unattended Jeeps and turn on the ignition. Her tense shoulders loosen up, but her jaw does not unclench. You began to drive as soon as Agent Bennett sat beside you. Her eyes trail after you as the car leaves the parking space.

“So,” Bennett draws out the word casually. “No,” you shut it down quickly.

“You and the Deputy Director?” he pressed on, a smirk creeping up on his lips. “No,” you insisted.

“That’s a yes.”

“Bennett,” you say warningly. He did not take your tone seriously, knowing that it was all in good fun. Except that it was not very fun for you.

“HR would have a field day with the both of you. Do you think she would get suspended for it? Would you get suspended? Oh, do you think Fury knows?” he pressed on, going off on a tangent now like a gossiping hen.

“Adrian Bennett, if you don’t shut up now, I will suspend you for spreading rumors,” you say in a serious tone, your grip on the wheel getting tighter.

“Oh, come on boss, it’s all in good fun,” Bennett replies, nudging your shoulder good-naturedly.

“For you, maybe. Besides, there’s nothing going on between the Commander and me. So, don’t go spreading that around,” you say firmly. Part of you feared that your voice would betray you as you spoke those words, but you managed to keep your tells in check.

“Alright, whatever you say, boss.”

But what he said had struck a chord in you. Had you really been that obvious? You weren’t a spy after all, you were a soldier. Your confusing, undisclosed “relationship” with Hill could get you both in a huge amount of trouble.

You cast your thoughts aside. She could very well choose to end what you have, reject any potential future involvement with you. You sigh softly, opting to focus on the winding tunnel ahead of you.

“Thinking about your girlfriend?”

“Adrian.”

“Okay, okay, I’m done, I’m done.”

You watch as a few cars come into view from your rearview mirrors. It wasn’t until the sound of gunshots echoed within the tunnels that you figured out something was wrong. A blue flash of energy flew towards one of the cars, obliterating it in the process.

“What the fuck?!” you yell as you watch the remains of the car lose control, going up a ramp and flipping over. The destroyed vehicle swung slightly, stilling in a parallel position, blocking the other cars that had followed behind.

“Do I shoot?!” Bennett asks as he pulls out his firearm, waiting on your orders. “Stay vigilant but don’t engage yet!” you tell Bennett as you reach for the communicator on your hip.

“Agent Hill, we’re in line of a hostile force, do we engage?!” you yell into your comms as you continue to drive forwards, speeding up as you go. The earth beneath your vehicle began to shake violently.

“Engage, if possible, but focus on getting out, I won’t have any heroes tonight,” the strained voice of Maria crackles through. The hostile force’s vehicle passes you by, and Bennett trains his gun on it.

“No heroes, Bennett,” you remind him, but watch the vehicle for any hostility. A man dressed in strange clothes sat in the cargo bed of the truck. He looked ill, but his eyes were fierce. A man on a mission.

A few moments later, a truck skidded into the tunnel, narrowly avoiding collision with the wall. The car drifts, turning in a half circle to face the hostile force. Both vehicles collided, the backwards facing car attempting to slow down the hostiles. Shots flew from each vehicle, which prompted Bennett to shoot, too.

The strangely dressed man looked at the both of you, his eyes holding a cold determination. He pointed a bright gold staff at you and your eyes widened. Before anything could happen though, the hostile’s vehicle began swerving from side to side, shaking off the truck that was blocking its path.

The driver recovered control quickly though and continued in hot pursuit. What sounds like a crackle of thunder follows closely behind you, much to your confusion. You stare through the rearview mirrors and watch as the tunnels begin to collapse, and it's gaining on you, fast.

You press all the way down on the gas pedal, the vehicle lurching forwards with renewed ferocity. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” the string of swears leaves your mouth as the tunnel collapse seemed to be faster than your car ever could.

“Fuck!” you scream as a large piece of the underground structure falls right in front of you. You turn the wheel hard in the attempt to dodge it to no avail. The rest of the structure continues to crumble, and you lose control of your vehicle. There was little you could do as the jeep was headed for what used to be a stone ceiling. You press down hard on the breaks and turn the wheel to the side. You crash against it, but not as hard as you expected. The last thing you see is what remains of the ceiling crashing on top of you as you raise your arms over your head.

Maria eventually abandoned her focus on trying to stop Barton and the hostile force. It would be all for naught if she was dead. She pressed down as hard as she could on the gas pedal, the vehicle going as fast as it could. It was not fast enough as the collapsing tunnel caught up to her.

Maria’s head throbbed as she shifted from her position inside the trapped vehicle. She could feel blood dripping from her nose and fresh bruises forming in her arms and legs. The adrenaline from the chase was beginning to give out, exhaustion settling deep in her bones. She looked over the shifting rubble and debris of the now collapsed tunnels.

Did you manage to escape? She doesn’t remember seeing you or your jeep get out before she had.

“Green leader, do you copy?” Hill spoke evenly into her communicator. She was met with the silent crackle of her device. “Green leader, do you copy?” she repeats herself, quietly begging for your response. Silence. Your name leaves her lips, dropping all formalities, her voice strained, “are you there?”

There was still no answer from you. She began switching between radio frequencies, catching different snippets of reports as she did.

“--underground tunnels have colla–”

“--er coming in, several men are dow–”

“--act has been stolen from—”

She continued switching between frequencies until Coulson’s voice rang through her communicator, “Director? Director Fury, do you copy?”

“The Tesseract is with a hostile force. I have men down. Hill?” Fury’s voice quickly followed.

“A lot of men still under. I don’t know how many survivors.” She says, breathing heavily as she climbed out of her mangled vehicle. The image of you being trapped under all this debris and rubble flashed before her eyes. Her heart momentarily stops, worry pulsing in waves throughout her body.

“Sound a general call. I want every living soul not working rescue looking for that briefcase,” Fury instructed.

“Roger that.”

“Coulson, get back to base. This is a Level Seven. As of right now, we are at war.”

Maria clenched her jaw as she processed the last few words. She knew what this meant, what was to come. Despite this, her thoughts wandered to you.

She finishes climbing out of the truck on shaky legs and moves past giant blocks of stone and rubble. Hill switched back to the channel you had last spoken through. She uses your call sign once more; it had dawned on her that, after the collapse, a signal might be non-existent, but she was still hoping to hear an answer. Once more, she was met with dreadful silence.

She calls out your name again, soft and anxious, “please be okay.”

May 2nd, 16:00 hrs, 14 hours later…

The Helicarrier was teeming with life, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents running around in preparation for the arrival of Fury’s new team. The Director had stepped out to recruit Steve Rogers himself, while the Black Widow had been pulled off mission to retrieve Dr. Banner and Agent Coulson had been sent to grab Tony Stark.

Maria walked around the bridge, looking over the monitors of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents below her. Various agent profiles appeared on a few of the screens, other monitors occupied by mission reports, schematics, maps and graphics.

Your picture on one of the monitors made her pause, a wave of anxiety courses through her body. She would not let it show though, presenting herself as the poster child of levelheadedness. She swallows hard as she walks closer to the monitor, crouching down beside the agent overlooking the incoming report.

Her chest tightened when she saw you were still M.I.A. “What’s the status of the search and rescue?” Maria asks, subtly clenching her jaw as she stares at your picture.

“It’s been slow, only about 31% of missing agents have been recovered, both dead and alive,” the agent, a short blonde, reported somberly, “There’s a lot of ground to cover and there are not enough teams available to work the mission.”

“Keep me updated,” Maria told the agent as she rose from her crouched position, “I want any and all new developments sent to my datapad.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Maria returned to her position overseeing the main deck. She stared back down at the Main Deck Data Panels, overlooking the Helicarrier’s systems, routing ground teams for the search of Barton and setting up preparations for the Director’s team. Despite her attempts to focus on the influx of reports on Barton, Loki, and the status of Fury’s team, her mind would wonder and think of you. You, trapped under the rubble in the Jeep. You, potentially hurt. Potentially dead. A cold dread settled over chest as those thoughts consumed her mind.

She stared down at the datapad, switching over to read the names of agents recovered from the facility.

Rodriguez, Vivian, M.I.A.

Porter, William, M.I.A.

Fitzgerald, Liliam, K.I.A.

Harris, Augustus, M.I.A.

Greene, Emiliano, Recovered.

She did not know what was worse, the fact that she had still not found your name on the list, or finding it and potentially reading K.I.A. The longer you went without being found, the less likely it would be a rescue and more of a recovery mission. She pushes the thought away. You will be fine. You are alive. You have to be.

“Commander,” Fury’s booming voice startles her out of her thoughts.

“Yes, sir?” she asks, her voice firm, hiding having been caught off focus. She had not been informed that the Director had already returned to the Helicarrier.

“Any progress on the Tesseract or Loki?” he asked, his voice stern.

“Nothing yet, nothing has been reported on the ground and the techs are still in process of tapping all wireless cameras,” Hill reports as she looks up from her datapad.

“What about the rescue at the facility?”

“33% of agents have been rescued. About 12% of those have been found dead, but that statistic is slowly rising.”

The Director gave no reaction other than taking a deep breath. He raised his head slightly and his face remained neutral.

“Sir, due to those statistics, I want to reassign a few teams to aid in the search and rescue mission,” she states firmly. She held her head high and her posture straight. For a second, your face flashed in her mind and her heart sank a little deeper in her chest.

She was not doing it just for you. It was also for all the agents still trapped under the rubble and them being able to continue living their lives. That is what she was telling herself at least, feeling slightly guilty of the selfish part of her that was focused on you, and only you. Yet, for all she knew, you might already be dead.

The thought made her stomach churn uncomfortably. She did not want to picture you trapped in those tunnels, crushed under the weight of an entire building. A heavy feeling made her heart sink to her stomach. Was there something she could have done to avoid this?

“Pull the remaining S.P.E.C.T.R.U.M. team and reassign them to the search and rescue, but that is all I can afford to compromise.”

“Yes, sir,” A wave of relief momentarily soothed the drowning feeling in her heart. She began to walk away, to give the new orders before Fury called out for her once more.

“And Hill? I need you here,” Fury gives her a pointed, knowing look. The look made her somewhat nervous, but she nonetheless acknowledged him with a sharp nod, before returning to her position and reassigning the rest of your team for the search and rescue.

May 3rd, 20:37 hrs, 42 hours later…

Maria’s feet dragged her to her quarters, having been relieved of duty about ten minutes earlier. The last twelve hours had been rough, but the search for Loki had finally paid off. He was located at a gala in Stuttgart, Germany and Fury’s assembled team for the Avengers Initiative had just been dispatched to retrieve the Trickster god.

Her eyes were heavy with sleep and despite having just gotten off duty, her job was not quite done. She sat on top of her cot, her datapad in hand as she watched the stream of recent mission reports and updates on Barton and Loki. After reading those, she began looking through the recovery list, dread settling in her stomach once more. She scrolled through hundreds of agents' names, the status pinned right beside them.

Smith, Jonathan, K.I.A.

Badillo, Sarah, K.I.A.

Sullivan, Nina, K.I.A.

Pruny, Charlie, Recovered

Barrett, Daniel, K.I.A.

Maria swallowed hard as she continued to read the names of both fallen and recovered agents. She knows this is what happens in this line of work. She knows that as much as S.H.I.E.L.D. invests in making sure their agents come back safe, it is not a guarantee and that casualties are not something that can be avoided. There was still a lingering feeling of guilt and profound sorrow, knowing that not everyone gets to come back.

She rubs her eyes, trying to stave off the tiredness that settled into her bones. Your name has still not popped up on any of the reports, you are still missing. The sick feeling she had become well acquainted with returned.

You cannot be dead. She refuses to believe that. Your last meeting replayed in her head. The disappointment and frustration in your eyes were burned into her mind. Your ultimatum rang inside her head.

Your face would appear every time she closed her eyes. She longed to see your smile again. For your eyes to sparkle with mischief, to feel your warm hand in hers. She wants to hear you laugh at a stupid joke. She missed the sound of your voice, the curve of your nose, the quirk of your lips. She missed you. She cannot lose you, not now, not yet. She loved you, you didn’t know that she lo–

Oh. Oh.

She was in love with you.

The realization hit her like a bullet to the chest. She was in love with you. She had been so caught up in her job, so caught up in her own responsibilities, she never once realized how her own feelings had changed towards you. Part of her felt like a hypocrite. She had called you out on the near imperceivable changes in your behavior, but she had not realized how her own feelings had changed. How did she not realize it before?

She tries to think back to the last time she felt this way about someone. Has she ever felt that way before? She remembered her past relationships, having crushes and a bit of infatuation, but those had never developed into love.

She had always been married to her job. When she first joined S.H.I.E.L.D., she worked tirelessly to prove her worth as an agent. She rose through the ranks through hard and consistent work, becoming quite a formidable agent. She knew not everyone was on board with the Director’s pick of Second in Command. She did not mind it though, she had nothing to prove to those who disapproved. She knew she was always damn good at her job.

Perhaps that is why she did not realize her feelings before. Maybe that is why she had unfairly pushed you away. She leaned her head against the wall behind her, the horrid, guilty feeling coming back with an unyielding vengeance.

Why did she realize her feelings now? Why not before? Why did you have to be trapped under the damn tunnels, potentially dead? Why has no one found you yet? Why can’t she be there, searching for you herself?

She takes deep, even breaths as she works herself up again. No, she cannot afford that right now. You can’t be dead. She’s holding onto the hope that you are not dead.

She looks down at her datapad once more, a new set of agent names scrolling upwards.

Maguire, Christian, Recovered

Duque, Cristina, Recovered

Taylor, Rosa, K.I.A.

Buchi, Mamelu, Recovered

Bennett, Adrian, K.I.A.

Her heart stops as she spots your name. Her hands shook as she stared down at your status.

Recovered

A relieved laugh escapes her involuntarily. You are alive. You are still alive. The report said that you were in critical condition and were en route to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Trauma Centrum based in Nevada. She needed to see you.

The relief that had soothed her anxiety is short lived as she realizes she cannot leave yet. Her duties, responsibilities and the current state of the emergency the world finds itself in would not allow her to be with you at the moment. ‘I need you here,’ Fury’s voice reverberated in her head. She sighs deeply in frustration, guilt and relief playing tug-of-war with her heart.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers quietly as she stares down at your profile.

May 4th, 15:24 hrs, 61 hours later…

“Oh, and uh, as for the matter that’s not in question? Where you morons tried to nuke New York? Well, that’s on the record. As in we recorded it. We do that. We’re S.H.I.E.L.D.,” silence hung between all the council members as Maria continued. The council members would not look at her, the shame of their decision hanging over them.

“So, if you’re thinking about coming after Nick Fury, ever,” she emphasizes the last word as her fingers work the control panel to open the privacy door of the Helicarrier’s main deck, “Think really, really hard.”

With a pointed look and a victorious smirk, she turns off the screen before rejoining the main deck.

“How did that go?” Fury approached beside her shortly after.

“Sold you down the river, sir. You should have your job within the month,” she replied as she began overlooking the Main Deck Data Panels.

“Good work,” he says before continuing, “you should maybe ask for a chair.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says with an amused smile. She falters briefly though, as the Avengers make their way into her mind.

“Sir, how does it work now? They’ve gone their separate ways. Some, pretty extremely far,” she walked alongside Fury as they made their way towards the large windows that oversaw the outside of the Helicarrier. She had had no faith in the Avengers Initiative. How did such a disjointed group with such different backgrounds ever function as a team? Who was to say they could do it again? “If we get into a situation like this again, what happens then?”

“They’ll come back,” he replies as if it were the simplest truth in the world.

“Are you really sure about that?” She did not quite know how his faith in this group could be so unwavering, especially after witnessing all their arguments before and during the recent battle.

“I am,” he answers once again as if it were the easiest question on Earth.

“Why?” she asked earnestly.

“Because we’ll need them to.”

A silent understanding passed between them as they overlooked the outside of the Helicarrier, agents running along the aviation runway. It was there that she understood that it was a play of faith. What had consistently carried the Avengers team was Fury’s belief in them, individually in each of them as well as in a group. It is that very same belief that would bring them together if any other event were to occur.

She takes a deep breath, her thoughts wondering to you once more. She has not been able to follow up on your status with everything that had happened since early that morning. A naive part of her wondered if maybe her belief that you would be okay had anything to do with your survival.

Silence hung between both Director and Commander for a few moments. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Agent Hill?” Fury asks suddenly, turning his head towards her and eyed her knowingly.

“Sir?” Maria asks, startled. Did he know? How did he find out? Perhaps she had not hidden her emotions as masterfully as she thought. Perhaps they would both be in trouble for the duration of the month.

“Go, we’ll talk about this later,” his voice was stern, but it did not match his soft expression.

“Thank you, sir,” she replies in a similar tone, but a ghost of a smile makes its way onto her lips. She leaves his side and hurriedly leaves the main deck.

Fury watched his Second in Command walk away. With a small smile, he approved the take-off of a Quinjet heading for Nevada.

May 4th, 20:12 hrs, 66 hours later…

Maria had not been allowed to see you for the first 2 hours since arriving at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Trauma Centrum in Nevada. She had to argue her way into seeing you, having been told that only spouses and family would be allowed to enter. She was successful in the end, though, having pulled her rank into the conversation. She was not entirely proud of it, but it got her in and that is all she cared about.

Eventually, she was able to meet with one of your doctors. She informed Maria that your next of kin had been notified of your current state. The doctor also explained your injuries and the status of your treatment. Several of your ribs had been broken, you had a punctured lung, a dislocated shoulder, and had suffered a concussion. One of your arms was shattered and it had been a miracle they did not have to amputate. Maria was both surprised and relieved your injuries were not more extensive. You have still not woken up since arriving at the Centrum.

She was allowed into your room shortly after the meeting with the doctor. Your non-dominant arm was covered in a white cast. The side of your face was heavily bruised and slightly swollen. Other bruises, stitched cuts and patched-up scrapes littered your face, arms and chest. You were paler than usual, and your eyes were slightly sunken.

Maria swallowed hard as she took in the sight of you. It was hard to see you in such a state. She approached your bed slowly, as if moving too quickly would make you disappear. A soft beeping was the only sound in the room, aside from the gentle buzz of the air vents.

She sat at your bedside, watching as your chest rose and fell, slow, steady breaths leaving you. It was the most beautiful sound she had heard in the last few days. She took your uninjured hand in hers, the coldness of your fingertips sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. She did not let go though, as she began to gently stroke the top of your hand with her thumb. You were here. You would be okay. She shifted around in the hospital chair in attempts to get comfortable, exhaustion of the past few days finally reaching her. She continued to hold your hand as she began to feel the lull of sleep calling her.

She woke up when she felt you squeeze her hand ever so gently. Her eyes fluttered open, her body demanding sleep but her heart demanding to see you. Maria first saw her hand in yours and she raised her head to see you. Your eyes met hers, a lazy smile spreading over your lips. She smiled back as she took you in. Your eyes were droopy and slightly red. It was clear you were desperately fighting off sleep.

“Hey,” Maria whispered, running her thumb over the top of your hand soothingly.

“Hey,” you whispered back. Your voice was hoarse and thick with sleep, your eyes fluttering open and close.

“How are you feeling?” Maria asked worriedly.

“I’m tired,” you reply breathlessly, giving her a small, playful smile. Maria smiles back, raising her hand to rest beside your head, and begins to gently stroke your cheek. You lean into her touch, your eyes beginning to droop shut.

“Rest,” she commands softly. You continue to fight off sleep, struggling to open your eyes to stare back into hers. “No,” you whine softly, “I don’t want you to go away.”

“I won’t go away,” Maria replied, a pang of sympathy and guilt spreading in her chest. “Promise?” your eyes begin to close against your will once more.

“I promise.”

You continued to struggle against sleep for about a minute before slipping back into unconsciousness. Maria continued to stroke your cheek soothingly, watching your chest rise and fall in a rhythmic pattern. You were here, you were alive. Her hand found yours once more as she laid her head on the bed.

“I won’t go away,” she repeated quietly as she watched you for a while longer, eventually falling asleep once more.

You were still asleep by the time she woke up again a few hours later. She sat up in her seat, her back popping and cracking as she did, a dull ache having settled throughout her body. She rolled her shoulders in attempts to loosen up her muscles as she walked towards the bathroom, hoping to quickly freshen up.

She notices you shifting in your bed as she quietly steps back into the room, your head lifting up when you notice her. You adjusted yourself to sit up on the bed, a pained wince decorating your features as you did. “Hey, hey, be careful,” Maria scolded, her tone soft and gentle, as she approached your bedside, “You’ve been out for a few days. How are you feeling?”

“I’m better. Less tired,” you reply, your voice cracking as you speak, before giving her a lazy smile.

Maria cannot help but smile back at you, “That’s good to hear. Do you need anything?” You shake your head gently before resting your head against your pillow, your eyes fluttering shut for a few seconds.

“You’re hurt,” you ask as you notice the stitches at the side of her brow.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m okay,” Maria replies as she sits beside you once more. She placed her hand on the bed, inches away from yours.

You take her in. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she no longer wore her S.H.I.E.L.D. suit, instead wore a spare physical training uniform. Her eyes were tired, darkened bags hanging under her eyes. Bruises and small cuts littered her arms as well. Despite this, she held a small, unwavering smile.

Silence settled over the both of you for a few minutes. There was a far-off look to you, your eyes holding a mixture of guilt, worry and fear. Maria sighed quietly, guessing what you might be thinking about.

“Did… did my team…?” your voice was quiet and pleading. Your eyes did not meet hers, fearing her expression would give away the answer before her lips could.

“Agent Bennett… he didn’t make it, sweetheart,” she says sympathetically, the soft, gentle tone never leaving her voice, “I’m sorry.”

A pained sigh escaped your lips as your eyes began to water. He had a son, one who had been living at the facility with him before everything went to hell. The boy had been evacuated at the beginning of the emergency. But now his father…

“And the rest?” you ask shakily. “Harris, William and Parker made it out unscathed. Garcia was treated for minor injuries and is approved to return to her usual duties,” she answered in the same soft tone, offering you a sad smile.

A few tears escaped your eyes, a mixture of sadness for your fallen friend and the relief of knowing the rest of your team had made it out. Maria had inched her hand closer, her fingers ghosting over yours. She gently held your hand when you didn’t pull away, giving it a soft squeeze and returning to stroke the top of your hand with her thumb.

“So, um,” you begin to speak after a while, your voice still shaky and unsteady, “what-what did I miss?”

Maria knew you wanted to distract yourself from the news of the passing of your friend. She offered you a sad smile and a gentle squeeze of your hand before beginning to tell you about the last two days. From gathering the Avengers, to the loss of Agent Coulson, to the Hulk rampaging in the Helicarrier, to the battle of New York. You listened as intently as you could, the thought of your dead friend still hung in the forefront of your mind.

Silence hung between the both of you for several minutes after Maria told you what you had missed. Her presence here confused you. She kept her promise, she stayed, but that surprised you. Why was she here? S.H.I.E.L.D. was dealing with the aftermath of an alien attack, yet she was sitting beside you, comforting you. The state in which your relationship currently stood does not warrant this, so why was she choosing to be here?

“Maria?” you ask tentatively. She looked into your eyes at the mention of her name. You swallowed down the bubble of fear that formed at the pit of your stomach, “What are we?”

The words said were just barely louder than the medical equipment in the room. Your gaze fell to your hands, watching as you twiddled with your thumbs.

You suddenly feel her warm hand cup your cheek, gently guiding you to look at her. Her eyes held an earnest, vulnerable look, one that captured your heart and attention. “I thought I lost you, when you were trapped in the tunnels,” the sincerity in her voice almost caught you off guard, “and that scared me more than anything else.”

She squeezed your hand gently, as if to emphasize her point. The vulnerability in her eyes and her voice were something you had never been privy to before, and part of you almost doesn’t know how to react to it.

“Even an alien invasion?” you give her a weak smile, while also mentally kicking yourself. This was not the moment for you to be making dumb jokes. Maria takes it in stride though, as she gives you an amused smile, “Yes, even an alien invasion.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you into making a decision you weren’t ready to make. I know how important your job is to you, and…” you apologize, your eyes falling to your hands once more.

“No, I’m sorry for pushing you away,” Maria does not want to hear your apologies. You have nothing to apologize for. All she wanted was you, she knew that now. “I… guess I hadn’t realized I had fallen in love with you, and those feelings scared me.”

Your eyes open wide at her confession as you raise your head to look at her, “You-you what?”

Maria’s eyes widened as well, not having realized what she admitted. For a brief moment of panic, she wanted to take it back. Maybe you were not in that place yet. But she reigns herself in and pushes that feeling away, before taking a deep breath and looking at you straight in the eye. She whispers your name oh so gently and lovingly, “I love you.”

A mixture of emotions, good and bad, swirled in her ocean-colored eyes like a storm. She was laying out the most vulnerable parts of herself to you, allowing herself to drop the emotional walls she had built around herself, letting you see how much she cared for you, letting you know she had fallen for you the way you fell for her.

“I love you, too,” you say softly, almost breathlessly. A quiet laugh escapes you as you say those words. You see as relief and pure joy fills her expression. She joins your laugh as she gently holds your face in her hands.

She leaned over you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. A warm feeling erupted in your chest, a childlike glee overtaking you. Your lips moved in tandem with each other, following a familiar rhythm. Even so, this kiss felt different, it felt renewed and exciting and right.

You deepened the kiss, placing your hand behind her neck, your fingers getting lost in her hair. That was until you pulled away to gasp for air, your lung capacity not quite what it used to be. She leaned her head against yours, a soft chuckle escaping her.

“Cheeky,” she whispered, her hot breath hitting against your face.

“Can you blame me?” you replied with a mischievous smile.

The door opened suddenly, revealing two nurses. Maria pulled away from you to look at the door, all parties in the room momentarily freezing as the intimate moment was interrupted. Neither you nor Maria had realized until now that your heart monitor had begun beeping rapidly, despite how loud it typically is. Your cheeks felt warm as you looked between Maria and the nurses.

“We heard the monitor– we’ll-we’ll come back later,” one of the nurses said sheepishly. “Sorry for interrupting, go on,” the other one said as they both stepped out.

Soft giggles escaped your lips once the door closed. Maria looked down at you, as she began to laugh, too. She begins to gently brush the hair on the top of your head. You rested your head against your pillow as you looked up at Maria lovingly.

Maria sends you a big smile, the ones that showed pure love and happiness. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of joy and relief and pure adoration. After days of the awful sinking feeling in her chest and the uncomfortable churning in her stomach, there was finally a lightness in her heart.

She leaned over you, placing a soft kiss on your lips once more.

#marvel #marvel fanfic #avengers #maria hill fic #maria hill x reader #maria hill #2012 avengers

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yikesmary · 1 year ago

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MOVING ON — kim mingyu or jeon wonwoo x reader

summary: in which giving up on kim mingyu seems to be the only solution, and jeon wonwoo is right there to help you out.

note: okay so to preface, this is very different from what I usually post. I wanted to try something different, so if it's bad, that's why. but I hope you guys like it either way. also poll at the end of this to see where you guys stand on who reader should end up with. but I don't know if I'll make a continuation for this so don't get your hopes too high as I don't have the best track record of finishing a multi-part fic.

join my taglist!

You were completely, utterly, and stupidly in love with your best friend, Kim Mingyu, ever since you could remember.

It's been years since you came to the realization, and it's been years since you haven't snapped out of the lovesick stupor that many of your friends sent you disappointed looks over.

You were in love with Mingyu, and Mingyu didn't seem to notice. Or, he knew you were in love with him but didn't bother to let you down gently. Either way, it hurt how your feelings weren't acknowledged.

For years you've tried getting over him. In the beginning, you were determined to make him fall in love with you. Even if it was just a fleeting moment of love, you wanted his eyes to look at you with the love he had for the other girls he's thought to be in love with.

But it hasn't happened.

And you were starting to lose hope.

"I think she's really the one guys," Mingyu said, his eyes practically in the shape of hearts as he spoke to you and the guys.

Ignoring the pity stares you were being given, unbeknownst to Mingyu, you tried putting on your best fake smile and said, "That's so great, Gyu! We're all so happy for you, right guys?"

When you turned to them, they were still too preoccupied with giving you stares, until you all gave them a warning glare. Various versions of "That's awesome" to "You're so lucky" came out of their mouths.

A yell of Mingyu's name came from nearby, and when you looked, it was her. You shouldn't loathe her as much as you did, considering she was the innocent one who had no idea about your feelings, but you couldn't help it.

It wasn't even your fault that Mingyu didn't know about how you felt about him, considering you tried telling him two years ago, but he thought you were joking and laughed so hard he was crying. You cried that day as well but for different reasons.

Realizing that she was probably going to sit with you guys, you didn't want to torture yourself so you cleared your throat and said, "I need to go,"

Before anyone could question you about your whereabouts, you quickly left. Grabbing your backpack and lunch tray, you threw out the remnants of your lunch and quickly exited the cafeteria, not even sparing a glance at her or your table of friends.

Mingyu looked at your fading figure confusedly and looked towards the guys. None of them were able to give him eye contact lest they accidentally blurted out the reason why you left so quickly, so nothing was discussed.

Wonwoo sighed as he looked in the direction you left and Mingyu, who hadn't been confused for long since she decided to sit beside Mingyu. Noticing that she refused to make any kind of eye contact or contact at all at Wonwoo, he sighed then followed your example, and left the table too.

Glances were exchanged, but this time no one knew why Wonwoo left so abruptly without saying anything.

There were moments when Mingyu wasn't preoccupied with his girlfriends and had time to spend with you. You were all for it, trying to take advantage what little time you were able to get with Mingyu.

If only Mingyu was able to keep his end of the bargain and actually spent time with you like he promised.

It was a constant cycle, and no matter how much you promised time and time again you wouldn't let him do it to you, you'd fall for it time and time again. You do it in hopes that it would be different this time, that you were important enough for him to break the cycle he unknowingly created.

This time, the promise was to take you to an art exhibit that was two towns over, over an hour's drive to the exhibit and another hour driving back. You were never able to get anyone to come with you since the drive took so long.

But, finally, Mingyu was able to go.

"When's the art exhibit?" Mingyu asked you suddenly, breaking the silence as the both of you studied for your respective classes.

You stopped working and looked at him then said, "It's on Saturday, why?"

Mingyu stopped to think for a second, then said, "I can go with you if you want,"

Breaking into a wide grin, you asked, "Really?! You'd go with me?! Even if it's an hour away from here?"

Mingyu's eyes widened as if he didn't know how far the exhibit was, as if it hasn't been the only thing you've been able to talk about. "An hour?"

You deflated at his answer, thinking that he wasn't going to go with you after finding out how long it takes to go. Noticing your reaction, Mingyu was quick to say, "I'll still go! I just wasn't expecting how long it was going to take to get there,"

You smiled again and said, "I'll wait for you on Saturday?"

He nodded and smiled at you, "I'll pick you up," he promised.

It was currently Saturday, and Mingyu was nowhere to be found. No call, no text, not even a smoke signal saying something along the lines of "I'm sorry, I was caught up with something else but I'll totally pick you up right now!".

You didn't even wait around at your apartment to see if Mingyu would pick you up, you took an Uber to his and Wonwoo's apartment. When you entered the floor of their apartment, you made a beeline to the door and knocked three times.

Waiting patiently, you heard the faint footsteps of someone approaching the door, you were face to face with Wonwoo. "He's not here," was the first thing Wonwoo said, the both of you knowing who he was.

Sighing and rolling your eyes both at Mingyu and the fact that you fell for it once more, you told him, "Why am I not surprised?"

Wonwoo eyed you before asking, "Do you want to come in?"

You hesitated for a quick second before nodding, and Wonwoo made more space for you to enter. "What did he say he'd do this time?" Wonwoo asked, closing the door behind him.

"He said he was going to come with me to the art exhibit—"

"The one an hour away?" Wonwoo asked, shocking you at how he remembered.

"You knew? Mingyu told you about it?" You questioned, but he shook his head no.

"It's the only thing you've been able to talk about since you found out about it. How would I not know about it?" He replied.

"Well, it's not like I would be able to go since it's going to be closed by the time I go and it's too expensive to Uber there so I'll just leave—" you started saying whilst turning around to leave the apartment, but Wonwoo grabbed your arm, stopping you.

"Do you want to hang out?" Wonwoo asked.

You turned to him, confused, "What are we even going to do?" you asked.

He shrugged and said,

"Wherever you want. I'll just be by your side,"

Silence fell between both you and Wonwoo as you walked aimlessly, the street you guys were on had food places that were still open and convenience stores that never closed, so there were lights everywhere despite it being nighttime.

You broke the silence by saying, "I have a question,"

Wonwoo hummed and said, "Well, I'll try the best I can to answer your question, but no promises,"

"It's about Mingyu,"

"I assumed it was going to be about him,"

"Am I stupid in thinking that my pining will result in something happening between him and me? Should I stop?"

Wonwoo stopped in the middle of the walk, making you bump into him since you were slightly behind him. You had to stop too but looked at Wonwoo to see if he'd give any indication on why he stopped.

"Do you want me to be completely honest?" He asked you.

You looked into his eyes and said, "With all the things I've been going through with Mingyu, honesty is all I have left,"

"I think that what you feel with Mingyu has enveloped your life so much that you can't separate between regular you and you with feelings for Mingyu. You've entangled yourself with Mingyu too much and you need to find yourself before anything else," Wonwoo bluntly told you.

"Okay, one, ouch. And two, that didn't answer my question," you said.

"I can't tell you whether or not you should stop, that should be something that you should decide without anyone interfering," he advised you.

"But how am I supposed to decide when I don't know what to even think?" you whined.

Wonwoo stared at you for a moment before saying, "Close your eyes,"

"What? Why?"

"I'm going to do something but you're going to have to put full trust in me,"

"That doesn't tell me anything, Won,"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yeah, wholeheartedly,"

"Then close your eyes," he instructed.

You closed your eyes eventually, seeing as the worst thing he could do was leave you on the road. But you still felt his presence around you, so you figured you were somewhat safe.

"I'm going to ask you a question and you can't think about it, just say the first thing that comes out of your head. Okay?"

"What—"

"Out of all our friends, who is the worst and best drunk?"

"Soonyoung for both. He cannot maintain his alcohol which makes him good and bad,"

"Where's the next place you want to travel to?"

"Home, I just want to see my parents,"

"What do you want to eat right now?"

"Ice cream,"

"Can you see yourself being with Mingyu for the rest of your life?"\

"No."

It was as if freezing water was poured onto you when you realized what you just said.

"Woah,"

"Yeah, woah."

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#seventeen imagines #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #kim mingyu x reader #wonwoo fic #mingyu fic #wonwoo scenario #mingyu scenario #wonwoo imagines #mingyu imagines #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen mingyu

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grapejuicebluesrry · 2 months ago

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28th september fic rec!

merry happy september 28th!!

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[series] let me see how wild it get (17K) by alwaysxlarrie | @alwaysxlarrie

Harry's success rate with being able to orgasm from masturbation was abysmally low, but she was determined to get there. She tried to actively avoid thinking about the fact that her best friend, Louis, had offered to help her if need be. Key words: tried to.

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[series] Lovers in the Night (46K) by Kiwiwatermelongrapejuice | @kiwiwatermelongrapejuice

Louis mates take him to a strip club and pay for a private lap dance for him as a bit of a laugh between all the lads. What no one anticipated was the fact that Baby was going to be exactly Louis' type. Even more coincidental is that it seems the feeling is mutual.

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I'll be ready - never you fear (112K) by 2Bsodefenceless, scribbleink

Spending his summer by the sea in Lavender Cove, after a fateful accident at work, was nothing Harry had really planned. He also didn’t plan to meet the lifeguard with the captivating blue eyes and the curious, curly dog.

He came to find peace but ended up finding happiness instead.

Or, if happiness comes in form of Louis Tomlinson, welcome it with open arms.

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give you my fever (10K) by beautlouis

And he’s wanted it even more since he met Louis, it's driven him insane, he spends 90% of his life turned on because of Louis and he’s had no relief at all. He’ll wake up at night too hot and itchy, with Louis warm and sweet smelling next to him, and unable to do anything but wank unsuccessfully, with no release.

“I can try,” Louis says, close enough that Harry’s eyes cross a little trying to look at him. “I want to, I’ve never been with anybody, like, I’ve snogged people, lots of people, but I’ve never—touched anyone.” He clears his throat. “I’d touch you, Hazza.”

Harry’s breathing picks up. “Yes.” He doesn’t think there was a question but he’s a little overwhelmed. “Yes,” he repeats, dizzy.

*x-factor era. harry's never had an orgasm before, louis gives him his first

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Wake Up All Wet (like we're dripping in gold) (9K) by larry_hiatus | @larry-hiatus

Harry tends to wet the bed sometimes. His boyfriend Louis secretly finds it hot and likes to get off with Harry’s pants while Harry is in the shower. After Harry accidentally gets Louis wet too one night, Louis’ secret alone time doesn’t go quite as planned.

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Louis’ Collarbones Religion (4K) by MartiniBianco

Oh sweet Louis. He's right that the interviewers were ruthless. But that's not what's making Harry restless.

No, it's that damn maroon t-shirt he's wearing. Every little movement he makes, the scoopneck moves and he shows off his collarbones and that damn tattoo. It is what it is. He should have talked Louis that damn tattoo out of his head while he still had the chance – before it taunted him at every possible occasion.

He's shaken out of his daydream by Louis hugging him. “Almost there mate, you can take a warm shower and relax, forget all about those bastard journalists.”

Well, Harry is planning on taking a hot shower. But maybe not exactly like Louis imagines.

---

aka Harry figures out he might not be super straight after obsessing over Louis' collarbones.

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Big Yellow Taxi (171K) by louisismycat (tiflamomet) | @liminalkittyfics / @liminalkitty369

Harry returns to his allotment to find the field next to it has been overrun by a youth football club.

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Sweetest Devotion (61K) by brightgolden | @brightgolden

After his divorce, all Harry wants in life is to provide a stable, loving environment for his three-year-old daughter, Evie.

Never in his wildest dreams has he ever considered that life might come with the presence of his teenage crush — Gemma’s friend from secondary school, Louis Tomlinson.

Luckily, Harry isn’t still pining over him.

Or so he thought.

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baby, you're my only reason (6K) by zouisclimax | @zouisclimax

Harry's famous and Louis' a big fan.

or, "you're a celebrity and you just broke up and i tweeted you a selfie and said "date me" and you thought i was serious?" au

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stop the world ('cause i wanna get off with you) (12K)by devilinmybrain (venomedveins) | @thedevilinmybrain

Five times Louis and Harry get walked in on at the worst time, and one time Louis makes sure they don't.

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as always, your reward for making it this far 🍿

stat time!

616,829 (69% less than August)

15 fics read (76% less than August)

14 authors (72% less than August)

see you next month :):)

#28th appreciation #fic rec #larry fics #hljournal #tracking happily #monthly fic rec #tracksintheam #tracking home #september fic rec #larry fic rec #hlficlibrary #larry fic #ao3 feed larry #larry stylinson

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jayceluvsu · 1 month ago

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Happy Creations (Bloody Painter x reader fluff!)

summary: You decide to roam around his art room for a bit and make him paint the sun

little comment: AHHH I CANT BELIEVE IM WRITING AGAIN its been forever and guess whos into creepypastas again (me). anyways i couldn't much wit my beloved bloody painter so why not make one hehe

It's been a while since you went to your beloved boyfriend's art room to look around and see what's on his mind. You wandered down the halls looking over at the bright sun shining at you through the sheer white fabrics of the window covers. It was just a random thought you had waking up to visit the messy yet mesmerizing room full of creativity and ideas from him.

Luckily, it was early morning and everyone else within the mansion was probably asleep from the restless weeks of missions but you knew that Helen was probably awake since he wasn't next to you in bed earlier. You gazed at the doors before you peeped through the small gap of the opened door. As expected, you see him deeply in thought with a blank canvas and a few crumpled papers laying on his side. You can basically tell he was stuck on his piece as he held his chin with his index and thumb before messing his hair groaning.

Even with the door unlocked, you still decided to softly knock the door letting your presence be known to him. His head quickly turned to face you peaking your head through the door before giving you a nod gesturing you to come inside. You widely open the door walking in as the skylight hit your bright face in your pale babydoll nightgown once again.

He looked down as you walked closer taking a seat next to him and his canvas. "What has you so stumped?" You chuckle mentioning about his short tantrum earlier. He just hums looking to the side not knowing to really say even though it was clear to both of you that he didn't know what to even paint. You placed your hands on your knees leaning to his face taking a clean paint brush from his collection to hand it to him.

"You should draw the sun while it's still out!"

"...have you not been paying attention to my drawings?"

He slouched immediately shooting down the idea. He did have a point, all the drawing you've seen him create were obviously the opposite of sunshines and rainbows. But you decided to keep recommending it.

"Oh c'mon you get to at least paint something."

"What a ridiculous reason..."

"You get to try something new though!"

He looked down at the paint brush you were shoving to him before sighing and taking the brush out of your hands. You grin as he started to sketch out something in the blank canvas. It was definitely out of his comfort zone but it was possible. You leaned back against the chair starring up at the windows of the skylight that lightened his collection of paintings and sketches. Your eyes transfixed on the white rays shining down at the room with the light blue sky covered with a few fluffy clouds while humming a melody to yourself. Light brush strokes running against the rigid canvas from him can be heard.

"Hey the sun looks so bright today."

"...it always is."

He glanced up at the sky before staring at you with the same sleep deprived face. You couldn't tell if he was staring at you or the sunlight as you looked back at him facing the canvas quickly painting as if he finally had figured out what to draw.

"You seem to finally get a hang of it." You stifle a chuckle.

"I indeed did..."

"Well I'm sure the sun won't move that much now. I'll go make breakfast and feed Smiley Dog." You stood up was quick on your feet to run back to the halls of the mansion to the kitchen.

"But- the sun has moved..."

He cracked a small smile as you left swaying his head side to side in a small smile. His canvas halfway drawn of the sun, his sun. You.

(AGGGAGGG TYSM FOR READING THE ENTIRE THING IF YOU DID AND ILL TRY TO WRITE MORE FOR NOW ON)

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #helen otis #bloody painter #bp x reader #creepypasta fandom #fanfic #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta fluff

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chxrrysangel · 1 month ago

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Wanna Play a Game ?

Trick | roleplay

Pairing | Dabi x fem!reader

Warnings | i guess dubcon?? but also like not really, knife play, a singular mention of blood/injury, fingering, choking, oral ( m + f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), alluded to aftercare, mask kink lowkey, honorifics, degradation, dabi has a pierced dick bc I said so

A/n | not proofread, we die like men (i'll do it later, i promise)

Wordcount | 3,205 words

The night was dark and quiet, almost too quiet. The whirring of the television and your intermittent gasps of fright was music to his ears. Hellraiser had never been a favorite franchise, but with everyone raving about the reboot you decided to give it a shot. If you were being honest, Odessa A’zion was the sole reason for giving it a chance. The music took a turn, suspense making your heart race with anticipation.

Ring Ring

A yelp left your lips before even registering the sound of the phone. It was unlike anyone to call this late, small town and all. Everything closed at like 8pm, as if everyone old or young had an early bedtime. It was almost as comical as it was annoying. Shaking hands unclipped the device from its receiver, listening for the connection to stabilize.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Who is this?”

You scoffed. “I think you have the wrong number.”

There was a small beat of silence before the receiver picked up sound.

“Do I?” Who is this guy?

“Yes you do. I’m hanging up, have a nice night.” You ended the call, feeling a sense of unplaced fear. With a small town like this, everyone still used the yellow pages. The possibility of dialing the wrong number was pretty low. Continuing the movie, your mind wandered to oggling Odessa and Drew’s characters, the stranger on the phone long forgotten.

Ring Ring

Not even bothering to press pause, you picked up the house phone with clear exasperation.

“Yes, can I help you?”

“I’m sorry.” It was the same strange voice.

“You called me again to apologize?” Some time between your question and the awaited response, a character on the screen screeched in pure terror, catching you off guard.

“Yes I did. Are you watching a scary movie?”

“...yes I am. And I’d like to get back to it.”

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Some of them.” You figured that by keeping your answer short, he would eventually get bored and hang up.

“Which ones?”

“Jennifer’s Body. Scream. Chucky. Ones like that.”

“You have good taste, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, I’m hanging up now if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind, actually.”

“Well, I’m sorry but that’s too b–”. Your sentence was interrupted by a loud banging on the front door. Tentatively, you tiptoed towards the peephole and looked through to see nothing.

What the fuck?

You turned around to a dark kitchen, making you shriek. The television flickered back and forth on its own, fear and bile rising up your throat. The stranger on the other line seemed irrelevant at this point, too caught up in the strange sight before you. To make matters worse, the pounding on the front door returned, shaking you to your core.

“Who is it?” There was no response, which only scared you more. With shaking hands, you opened the door and peered outside. The porch was empty, just as you had expected. You tried to calm your heart, deciding to worry about all of this another time. Every instinct you had escaped you, the naivete of a small town making you less cautious than you probably should be. You shook your head, closing the door to return to your movie.

Except the door got caught on something.

A foot to be exact.

Your eyes bulged out at the sight of the mystery black boot, fearing who could possibly be attached to it.. Your entire body shook with pure terror, a tall stranger looming over you in a mask. His head tilted in animalistic curiosity, unmoving but frightening all the same.

“Did no one ever tell you the first rule of scary movies, sweetheart? Don’t open the door for strangers.” He chuckled darkly, stepping over the threshold as you stupidly stepped backwards. Despite everything in your body telling you to run, it was like you were frozen in place. The large man clicked his tongue with disapproval, seemingly at your lack of instincts. A gloved hand came up to your face, grabbing onto your jaw to hold you in place. You could feel his warm breath on your cold skin with his increased proximity, fanning your ear while he whispered.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing home alone, hm?” A tear fell down your cheek, too frozen with fear to respond or do anything else. He backed up a few spaces, watching you stand helplessly like a gazelle caught in the lion’s den.

“Not gonna run from me? But that’s no fun.” He sounded sickeningly disappointed, which only worsened your anxiety of what was to come. It was at this moment you noticed something shining in his other hand, your eyes widening as you identified the foreign object. He seemed to put two and two together, bringing the blade up to your face.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t worry ‘m not gonna kill ya, not yet at least.” You’d almost think he was sincere if the circumstances were different. Even behind a mask, his smile was evident.

As if some higher power guided you to sanity, you suddenly developed a sliver of bravery. So you ran, as fast as your feet could carry you without wasting a single moment to look back. Haphazardly you ran into your bedroom and slammed the door, searching frantically for a hiding spot. The closet seemed like your best option, having no time to think of something better. You waited there, breathing as quietly as you could muster given the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’ve never felt fear quite like this moment, which could very easily be your last. For a few minutes the house was virtually silent, but you couldn’t be stupid enough to be lured out under false pretenses. It was never that easy. Suddenly your bedroom door slammed open, the stranger walking into your safe space. His large boots made impressions into the carpet with each step, a faint eerie whistle being heard under his mask.

“Honey, I know you’re in here. Can’t hide from someone like me, baby.” A light shined in your face, blinding you as the closet doors opened.

“There you are.” How someone whose eyes can’t be met could be so terrifying was incredible.

You begged for your life, feeling so unlike yourself. It was an out-of-body experience, kissing the boots of a stranger and begging him not to kill you. The coldness of his blade pushed up your chin, forcing your eyes towards where you assumed his own sat.

“I told you, my sweet, I have much better plans in mind.” He stood much straighter now, towering over your kneeling figure. The cloak he wore earlier was gone, although he kept the mask for obvious reasons.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” Your eyes flickered down his figure instinctually, catching on the growing bulge beneath his black jeans. He was enjoying this, although not quite in the matter you thought. You hated yourself for the wet feeling growing between your thighs as you stared. He chuckled, entertained by this moment.

“I can see you staring.”

The trance you were in broke, heat breaking out across your cheeks as you averted your gaze.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, honey. I’ve caught you. And I think there’s a solution we both could enjoy.”

The tall stranger didn’t wait for an answer, dropping his knife to begin unbuckling his pants. In one swift movement, his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. Purple scarring covered his lower legs, but your eyes could hardly focus on anything other than his dick hanging in front of your face. His tip leaked, red and swollen like it hurt. Metal jewelry glittered in the low light of the room, a jacob’s ladder and prince albert catching your eye. It was embarrassing how interested you were considering the circumstances.

“Now be a good girl and suck.”

Without much hesitation, your outstretched tongue gathers the dripping pearls of precum as you relax your jaw to accommodate him. He was large, much larger than most people you’ve had. The man groaned as his tip hit the back of your throat, a ring-clad coming to place itself on your cheek. On occasion, he thrusted into your mouth, chuckling when you gagged. Tears began to well in your eyes, clouding your vision a bit. Despite his air of dominance, whimpers could be heard beneath the mask, signaling how much he enjoyed this.

“So good, that’s it. F-fuck,” he stuttered. Using your prior knowledge, you began to roll his balls between your fingertips as you sucked him off. His thrusts began to lose rhythm, signaling that he was very close.

“Shit, shit. I’m gonna fucking cum. Stop.” He pulled you off, not allowing you to refuse and push him over the edge.

“Not so fast, pretty girl. Bed, now.”

Not arguing despite instinct saying otherwise, you sat down on the bed and awaited instruction. He didn’t say much, grabbing your arm and turning you to lay on your stomach. A coldness danced its way up your back and down your thighs, making you shiver. The heat from his body radiated off him like a furnace, which only made each anticipatory moment pass by even slower. Eager hands pulled down your shorts, being thrown somewhere behind his shoulder.

“Spread those legs for me sweetheart.” You did as told, hearing a groan in response. Even through the cotton fabric, your pussy shined with arousal, making him more turned on than he thought was possible. Not wasting a single moment, he ran his fingers along your slit and pressed against your clit. He cursed under his breath as you leaned into his touch, desperate for any pleasure he was willing to offer.

“Oh that’s cute.”

He slipped one finger in, meeting little resistance as your cunt sucked him in. It was a sight to behold, making him wish he brought a camera. You mewled below him, ass pushing against his hand as you chased your own pleasure. He chuckled, enjoying how obviously needy you were and the lack of shame you possessed in hiding it. But just as you felt an orgasm approaching, he took his hand away.

“Not yet..” You groaned in frustration, but stayed quiet otherwise.

Dabi spread your legs wide, enough to accommodate his shoulders as he lay beneath you and brought your core to his face. The ball of his apparent tongue piercing rolled along your clit, making you cry out of pleasure.

“F-fuck,” you managed to stutter out. His tongue was gifted, sucking on your clit with just the right amount of pressure to drive someone insane. He wasn’t afraid to be messy, loudly slurping and sucking to the point where it was almost nasty. Dabi pulled your body closer to his mouth, impossibly closer, like he was trying to absorb you. Your hips ground against his face, chasing your slowly creeping orgasm.

“More, need more.” Because you begged so nicely, Dabi obliged your request by curling two fingers into your hole. His thick digits pressed against your g-spot, making your toes curl as you felt your stomach tighten as your orgasm approached. You could only blabber incoherently, speaking words that not even you could bother to understand. All you knew is that you were cumming, quickly. You collapsed on the bed, legs jelly and head fuzzy as you came down.

Dabi couldn’t wait for you to come to, deciding to take matters into his own hands.

He manhandled your frame, pushing your knees into your chest as he pressed his weight against the back of your thighs. The tip of his dick prodded at your entrance, gathering the slick of your cum. Majority of his face remained covered by the mask, but his wicked grin shone brightly in the dimly lit bedroom

There was a level of shame that lodged itself in your chest, embarrassed by how turned on you felt in that moment.

“You’re even prettier in this position.” His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You could practically feel his cock in your throat as he stretched you inch by inch, agonizingly slow as he watched your features. He could tell you were overwhelmed, which only made him harder.

“Fucking hell,” Dabi whispered under his breath. Killing you would be such a shame now.

His thrusts were slow but methodical, ensuring you could feel every single piercing and vein. His warm breath fanned your face, engulfing you in his scent as he held you close. He smelled like smoke, undercut by the scent of bergamot and the faintest hint of vanilla and mint. It was intoxicating.

“I can feel you squeezing me. Wanna cum already?,” he teased. His tone was wickedly condescending, prompting you to try and hide your face in the sheets.

His strong hand gripped your chin, forcing eye contact. He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“You can’t hide from me, princess. Be a good girl.”

His calloused fingertips rubbed circles against your clit, pushing you further towards the edge. It was almost like he needed you to cum, more than he did. He set a vicious pace, knocking the air from your lungs with every push into the mattress. He pushed your legs further, creating a new angle as your body curled into itself. It hurt so good. Dabi never shied away from being vocal, cursing under his breath as he whined about how good you felt.

He leans down, pulling you into a kiss. It’s neither soft nor caring, purely animalistic as he bullies his tongue into your mouth. The hunger he felt translated across, desperation evident in his forceful thrusts as you kissed back. You attempt to grab his hair, realizing that the mask still covered most of his face. Uncaring, he pulled it off completely, throwing it somewhere in the corner to be searched for later. You taste each other on your tongues, the sin of it all turning you on more. He finally breaks the kiss, out of breath as he chases your lips again before rethinking it.

“I–”, he dives back in for a chaste kiss, “– own –” , another kiss, “–you.” He remains close, practically sharing each breath between you as you stare firmly into his blue eyes. He pulls out, motioning you to turn on to your hands and knees. You did as told, submitting fully. The lack of sight as he shuffled behind you should have been anxiety-inducing, but it wasn’t.

He dragged the dull edge of his knife down the indent of your spine, the most gentle of pressure enough to leave goosebumps in its wake. But as he reached the curve of your lower back, he pressed inward, pushing the blade into your skin until it broke. You felt a pinch that quickly flowed into a sharp ache as small droplets pooled on the surface of your back.

He hushed your panic, pushing your head back down to lay against the mattress. The wet muscle of what you quickly realized was his tongue gathered the mess, licking up your back as you shivered.

“I could do horrific things to you.” The darkness in his tone made it abundantly clear that he meant every word. It was exhilarating.

“But first, I wanna play.”

He leaned over as he guided himself inside, meeting no resistance as he bottomed out. His teeth nipped at your ear, a sensitive spot on your part. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, uncharacteristically gentle.

From this angle he feels so much bigger, knocking the air from your lungs as you’re forced to accommodate his size.

“Fu-” the curse dies in your throat as it turns into a choked gasp.

He brings a hand back to your throat, applying pressure to both sides as he guides you to straighten up against him, making him hit new depths that have you hissing out. You mewl as he continues to thrust at an agonizingly slow pace, make sure you feel everything.

“Look at you, whining like some slut.” He feels you clench at that, smiling into your skin.

You can only moan in response as he slowly pulls back his hips, the ridges of his piercings gliding against your walls.

“You’re pitiful,” he groans into your ear, pressing his fingertips further against your throat, cutting off the circulation for only a moment. “Getting cockdrunk by some guy trying to kill you. You dirty fucking girl.”

You can only continue your pathetic whines, reaching back to grasp onto him for stability.

He slams back in, letting you drop forward. You hardly manage to keep yourself up, limbs jelly and unstable. Each time he snaps his hips forward, the sound of skin slapping ricochets off the bedroom walls around you. He grips your hip bone, forcing your hips to meet every thrust.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel, baby,” he huffs out, the building orgasm apparent in the slight shake of his voice. “Go ahead, say it.” His balls catch your clit, making your eyes cross as you struggle to stay present.

“So good. Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you answer to best of your ability. Your answer was weak, eyes tearing up as you felt your gut clench. He was ruining you and he knew it. He pulls you back upwards by the throat, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips as he moans into your mouth.

“Say it again. Like you mean it.”

“Fuck, right there, please. Feels so good — ha — I’m so close.”

His fingers connect with your clit, working a mind-numbing pattern that has you nearly slipping out of unconsciousness as his vigorous thrusting returns. It’s harsh, the lines of pain and pleasure continuing to blur as you cum on his cock. Your body tenses in pleasure, everything fading into the background, before releasing as you collapse.

His pace falters as his own orgasm takes over, spilling inside you as he cries out in ecstasy. You couldn’t even be bothered to consider the consequences of that at the moment, trying your best to catch your breath as you laid there together.

Seconds turned to minutes as the reality of the situation passed over you. Dabi had hardly moved, staring at the ceiling as he reminisced on the last hour or so. You turned over to him, checking in on his current state. His blue eyes met yours with soft crinkling at the corners, heavy lidded eyes softening as he stared.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered. You obliged, leaning in close with the expectation of him wanting to tell you something. Instead he kissed you softly, a sharp contrast to the night’s previous events. He hummed in satisfaction against your lips, before pulling away reluctantly.

“Was I too rough?”

You shook your head assuringly, letting out a few tuts as though he was asking a stupid question.

“Just asking.” He felt equally stupid asking, especially considering it was your idea, but he had to be sure. The bed dipped as he padded over to your shared bathroom, turning on the shower for the two of you. He leaned against the door frame, watching you curl into the sheets as you awaited the inevitable dragging to the bathroom for cleanup.

#dabi x reader #bnha dabi #bnha smut #ghostface!dabi #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki

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juiceicicles · 1 year ago

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Mean and Scary | Chapter 1: King of Hawkins High

AO3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48053206/chapters/121165750

Pts: 1, 2, 3

As he traipses through the woods, Eddie tries to get a bearing on what is about to happen and what his plan is for when it inevitably goes sideways.

Dealing pot to Hawkins Royalty like King Steve isn’t entirely out of the ordinary, but doing it alone at a picnic table in the middle of the isolated woods? Yeah, not Eddie’s smartest decision for a meeting place.

In his defense, he’s only a hop skip and a jump away from the high school, and he couldn’t be assed to drive any further for what’s likely going to be a one time payment of $20. $25, if he overcharges Steve (which, he absolutely plans to do.)

Eddie finally gets to the clearing and Steve jumps when he notices him, finally looking away from a tree he was seemingly having a very intense staring match with.

“Whoa, hey, hey, hey! Sorry,” Eddie chuckles a bit awkwardly, trying his best to subconsciously communicate that he is not a threat, because he really doesn’t wanna get his lights punched out right now “Didn't mean to scare you.”

Eddie sits down and his metal lunchbox clatters onto the table —Steve flinches again. Boy, Harrington is jumpy— and sits across from him. He opens up his Pail-o’-Drugs and watches as Steve drums his fingers on the table.

“There's, uh... There's nothing to worry about. Okay? No one ever comes out here. We're safe. I promise.” Eddie honestly didn’t expect Steve Harrington to be worried about being caught, considering that Steve apparently used to hold daily house parties.

He still can’t believe it. King Steve goddamn Harrington sitting there, in all his douchey glory. Or at least, that’s what Eddie expected. Instead he sort looks exhausted. His eyes keep flitting around, and he looks like he just saw a ghost.

You see, Harrington was never a dick to Eddie, specifically. However, he sure as hell didn’t treat the freaks of Hawkins High with any sort of sympathy. Hence Eddie’s original plan to act like the biggest asshole he possibly could without scaring off a rich customer. But something about Harrington’s eyes, a sort of dull terror etched into the hazel brown, is making Eddie reconsider that decision.

“So, how does this work, exactly?” Steve sort of mutters. This is so utterly different from everything Eddie heard about him. Steve always roamed the halls with a sick sort of ironclad confidence, with his two jackals Tommy and Carol following his every beck and call. The boy across from Eddie though? He seems so haunted. Like a flickering projection of someone. A puppet with its strings cut.

“Uhh just like any other old sale, except cash only, and for obvious reasons, no receipts,” he gives Harrington what he hopes is a reassuring smile, “I'll do you a half ounce for, uh... 20. What do you say? Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last a while.”

A squirrel skitters up a tree in the background, and Harrington gasps quietly and whips around to track it. And then, finally, it clicks for Eddie.

Steve’s worried about being seen with Eddie the Freak Munson. Figures. He shouldn’t have expected anything less from King Steve.

“Hey, we don’t need to do this. Just give me the word, and I’ll walk away.”

“It’s not that, I don’t want you to go.” Steve starts, tentatively. He’s still looking around, like somethings about to pop out of the woods. “It’s just…Do you ever feel like you’re loosing your mind?”

And, of course Eddie feels like he’s lost his marbles. He’s a super senior with the nickname the Freak. Obviously he sometimes feels a little crazy. He’s a little surprised that notorious cool guy Steve Harrington feels that way, though.

He makes the decision right then and there to see this out, because even if Harrington’s afraid of being caught, there’s something here that Eddie’s missing.

“You know on a daily basis. I feel like I’m loosing my mind right now,” screw it, might as well be honest, go big or go home right? “doing a drug deal with Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High.”

“Ah, well, I haven’t been king for a while…” Steve trails off.

Eddie remembers Billy Hargrove. Remembers how he made him want to beg every god there was for Steve to steal back the crown. Billy Hargrove was mean to Eddie. He was mean to everyone. And he wasn’t highschool-mean either, he was Larry Munson mean. He was a jackass who wasn’t afraid of anyone and wanted you to know it.

Unprompted, Eddie remembers the first time he met Steve. Before he was Hawkins Royalty, before he was a jock and a bully, before Eddie was the freak and not just a freak. Eddie had just gotten to Hawkins, his old man had been put away and the US government dropped lil’ Eddie on Wayne’s doorstep. He’d met some friends and formed a shitty garage band. They’d played at the middle school talent show, and Eddie had lost his guitar pick. A boy about his age had given it back, told him his name was Steve and he had found it underneath his chair in the seats.

“You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um... Hung out.”

“No?”

Eddie lets out a little chuckle. Of course Steve wouldn’t remember. “It’s alright.”

He clutches at his heart like he’s been shot with an arrow and flings himself off the bench and into a pile of leaves behind him. He hears Steve let out a little gasp before he hops back up.

“I wouldn’t remember me either, Harrington!”

Steve looks a little amused, and Eddie catches a light brown blob in his peripheral vision. He combs his fingers through his hair and dislodges a dead leaf.

“Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?”

Steve lets out a little chuckle as Eddie starts to gets into his story. If there’s one thing Eddie Munson is good at, it’s story telling.

“Middle school, talent show. Carol I think did this cheer thing? You know the thing the,” Eddie mimed some pom poms. Steve was smiling a little bit, so Eddie continued his spiel, “and I- I was with my band.”

Suddenly Steve pipes up “Corroded Coffin! Oh my god!”

Eddie’s bewildered that Steve apparently remembered their weird prepubescent metal show. He claps his hands excitedly and points to Steve. “You do remember!”

“Yes, of course! With a name like that, how could I forget?”

“I dunno. You’re a freak.” Eddie’s pretty pleased with himself when his lack of brain-to-mouth filer apparently doesn’t offend Steve. In fact, Steve breaks out a smile. It’s less Harrington Charm then Eddie expected, more of a dorky toothy grin.

“No you just- you looked so-“

“Different? Yeah. Yeah. Well, uh, my hair was buzzed, and I didn't have these sweet old tatties yet.”

“You played guitar right?”

“Uh-huh. Still do. Still do.” And since Eddie is an impulsive mess and isn’t totally hating this interaction, he does something that totally spits in the face of the tried and true Munson doctrine and invites a preppy jock to a metal concert, “You should come see us. Uh, we play at the Hideout on Tuesdays. It’s pretty cool. We- we actually get a crowd of about five…drunks.”

Steve laughs a bit and clamps a hand over his mouth, like he’s a bit startled by the noise. Eddie doesn’t blame him, he’s a bit caught off guard too.

“It’s not exactly the Garden, but, you gotta start somewhere, right?”

Steve looks at Eddie with a considering gaze for a moment, like he’s trying to figure Eddie out.

“You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be.”

“What, a total freak?”

“No, no. Honestly? I thought you’d be mean. And scary.”

“Me? Steve Harrington thought I’d be scary?”

“Yeah! You’ve got this whole, I dunno, chains and leather vibe. Thought you wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

“Yeah, well, I thought you’d be mean and scary too.”

“Yeah?”

“Terrifying.” Eddie’s hit with the sudden realization that he’s completely forgot about the drug deal he came here for and plops himself back down at the picnic table. “Uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so... Twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here, you know.”

“…do you have anything maybe stronger?”

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0mysteiarchives · 5 months ago

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“One day, we'll have a place to call home.” Firefly x GN!Reader

"If we ever get out of this alive, we'll be together, right?" a/n: might post this on ao3! just because :3 enjoy!! <3

this fic contains: platonic or romantic firefly!! , reader stays gender neutral for this , mostly based off firefly's trailer with a few tweaks ^_^

"The battle is over."

The forest went in flames, smoke could be seen in the air with flags mounted into the ground all ragged.

"Command, this is AR-26710, please respond."

"I don't think they'll respond" You replied despite not being the respondent. "I tried contacting them a while back but no response."

"What should we do? We're the only survivors around." A robotic voice rang behind you, another mech pushing off a rock as they took a glance at the two of you.

You stay silent for a while, figuring out what to do while all comms are currently offline. It's not often all soldiers get a moment of fresh air like this.

However, in a quick moment, you had an idea.

"No matter what, we have to get in touch with the others-" They watch as you transform out of your mech, confused. "Huh?"

"If that's the case.." You bring your arms behind your back. "It'll be faster this way, right?"

"Hey, you-" As they spoke up, another had also done the same thing as you.

"I understand." The young girl in front of you stares into the pond water. "Article 4 of Glammoth's Military Regulations: Leaving the cockpit is strictly prohibited."

This way, we'll be discovered very quickly! Even though we'll be punished.." You let out a sheepish laugh, scratching your cheek in embarrassment.

"That can't be helped." She turns to you with a warm smile.

Fireflies danced around the two of you, as you both watched them dance around the dark night, illuminating the sky. It felt relaxing to see scenery that are not brought to ruin by the ongoing war.

"How many times is this for you now?"

"Hm?"

You snap out of a trance, turning to her with a confused expression.

"Leaving the cockpit like this.." She stretches her arm out, a firefly landing on her finger as she stares at it with fascination. Soon it flies away.

"Well-" Before you could answer, the ground shakes slightly with metal clanks are heard behind you.

A trail of fire came from behind a mech with red accents as they spoke in a deep voice. "Article 2 of Glammoth's Military Regulations: Remain on guard." They cross their arms and continue, "Article 4: Leaving the cockpit is strictly prohibited."

A long, disappointed sigh is heard, "Do you have a death wish?"

"A Fyrefly Type-V escort model..very nice." You comment with a soft sigh in return, as the third member of your team also leaves their cockpit.

"Hah, you're the odd one out now." The woman lets out a playful scoff as you let out a giggle.

"You can't connect to command either.." You trail off before giving an offer. "Why don't you..join us?"

"No thanks." Their answer was quick. "I'll just pretend I didn't see anything."

You only let out a sigh at your failed attempt, as the young girl beside you places her hand on your shoulder in reassurance.

You pull out the trinket you found earlier, inspecting it in silence as the girl from a while ago spoke up.

"What's this?" She points to the camera you currently held, staring at it with curiosity as you give her a smile.

"I picked it up on the battlefield.." You bring it up to your eye, staring into the lenses. "It seems to be a civilian device.."

"Even if it's no longer working, and the lens is scratched.." you zoom into the clear water. "If you look through the lens, it feels like looking into a whole different world!"

"Lens? No wonder you wear those weird goggles." You hear another speak as you pan the camera towards her, capturing her within frame.

You let out an embarrassed laugh "I have other reasons too!" Holding onto the rim of the goggles around your neck, you give a soft smile "If everyone looked the same, how would we tell each other apart?"

You soon move the camera to the young girl labelled "26710" on her neck. "Your hair is also very unique!"

It seems you've caught her off guard, a small blush forms on her cheeks and turns to you.

"Thank you, I've been growing it out.." She flashes you a warm smile, to which you reciprocate.

"The length is also proof of your experience!" You add as she lets out a hum and turns to the side, showing the length of her hair.

"But sometimes it gets in my eyes..i'm not sure if I should put it up.."

"I think you should keep it down! I think you look prettier that way." You immediately respond to her question, both of you stare at each other and erupt into gentle fits of laughter. Soon the three of you all laugh.

Finally you pan the camera towards the only one still in the cockpit, you could only see them stare at the lens.

"Your turn! Are you really not going to say anything?" You urge them to, at the very least, say something. It seems to work as they put their arms down to their side.

However the moment is interrupted by a noise. Everyone seems to notice that.

"Comms are back up." You bring your hand up to your earpiece, the lines are indeed back up and the order flashes in front of you on a digital screen.

"Article 8: Surviving knights should immediately return to their units."

"The moment was so short, but it felt so long." Your 3rd member transforms back into their mech, as you prepare to do the same. Yet at the very edge of your eye you catch the girl rip off the fabric from the ragged flag. She uses the water as a mirror and tries to tie it around a lock of her hair, to which you felt obliged to help.

You move closer and gently grab the fabric from her hand, tying it into a small ribbon.

"Looks nice. It really suits you."

She stares at you with her mouth agape, before letting out a content hum whilst you give her another smile. It seems you two had been staring at each other for a while as your 'leader' let out a cough, snapping both of you out of your trances.

The other already blasts far off before the rising sunset, to which the both of you take a moment to relish the sweet scenery before taking off as well.

"One day." Your thoughts fill the silence within the silent sky.

"When the war ends, we'll all have a place to call home."

might make a part 2 of this in a few days ngl

anywys this might be a bit different from how i write bc it's been so long and i got caught up with pgr and wuwa :sob:

as for requests it might take a biit longer than expected, especially after JUST recovering from a writing block :P

however other than that i'll see yall eventually when i proofread this when i wake up cus im tired asf ^_^ (will link to pt2 when i finish it :3)

#hsr firefly x reader #firefly x reader #firefly honkai star rail #honkaistarrail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader

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hayatheauthor · 2 years ago

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How To Get Away With Murder Part Two: Writing Murder Mysteries

Murder mysteries are possibly one of the most complicated genres in fiction. Unlike other genres, authors need to create a very comprehensive backstory and worldbuilding that seamlessly ties into the present story while also creating intriguing characters that move the plot forward. As an author, you need to weave a complex web of clues, red herrings, and twists that ultimately lead to the big reveal, all while maintaining the integrity of the story.

Writing a good murder mystery is a daunting task, but with the right tools and techniques, you can create a gripping tale that keeps your readers on the edge of their seats. In this blog post, I'll be sharing my personal tips and insights on how to craft a compelling murder mystery that will leave your readers guessing until the very end.

Establish The Rules

Before you jump into your murder mystery it’s important to first set the scene and establish the ‘rules’ for your murder mystery. Your readers need to know what’s at stake here. Who was murdered? What is the most likely reason for their murder? Why is this particular character investigating their murder? You need to set up a clear foundation for your story.

Authors should also attempt to establish some semblance of a ‘stage’ for where the story will take place. If a character was murdered in their hotel room the hotel itself would likely be the ‘stage’ for your book’s murder mystery. This is where the detective will live and uncover clues until the end of the book.

Once you have a clear story and setting, move on to the characters and their role in the murder. Who is the investigative figure? Do they have to face any obstacles or follow certain rules while investigating? A great example of this would be Pip’s legal restrictions in A Good Girl’s Guide To Murder. Her position as a teenager significantly limited her investigative methods.

Plant The Seeds

Foreshadowing is the key to a good murder mystery. You need to start foreshadowing as soon as possible. As a writer, you need to plant subtle clues throughout your narrative that will keep your readers engaged and guessing.

But it's important to strike a balance between too much foreshadowing, which can make the plot predictable, and too little, which can make the conclusion feel like it came out of nowhere. Start foreshadowing early on in your story, and use a mix of subtle hints and more overt clues to keep your readers engaged without giving away the ending. Remember, the best foreshadowing is often invisible until the reader looks back on the story as a whole.

The Repitition Rule

Writers are often advised to repeat foreshadowing at least three times to help readers remember it. While this can be a helpful guideline, it's important to use your own judgment and avoid overdoing it. After all, if you repeat the same clues too often, you risk telegraphing the ending and ruining the suspense.

Instead, aim for a mix of subtle and overt foreshadowing that will keep readers engaged without giving too much away. Remember, the goal is to keep readers guessing until the very end.

Misdirect The Reader

In order to keep readers engaged and invested in the mystery, it's important to misdirect them from time to time. This means leading them down one path only to reveal that it was a dead end, or presenting a red herring that turns out to be unrelated to the actual crime.

There are many ways to accomplish this, from introducing false suspects and motives to using clever misdirection to steer readers away from the truth. One effective technique is to present conflicting evidence that suggests multiple possible solutions, forcing readers to constantly reassess their theories and stay engaged with the story.

However, it's important to avoid overdoing it or making the misdirection too obvious. You want readers to feel challenged and intrigued, not frustrated or misled. Ultimately, the goal is to keep readers guessing until the very end, when all is revealed and the pieces fall into place.

Add Depth To Your Characters

Developing your characters is crucial in murder mysteries. Not only does it make them more interesting and relatable, but it also helps to create a sense of connection and investment in the story. Make sure each character, even minor ones, have a distinct personality and backstory that ties into the plot.

When it comes to suspects, be sure to give each one a clear motive and opportunity to commit the crime. Think about their relationships with the victim and other characters, and how those dynamics could have played a role in the murder. Consider adding red herrings, false leads, and hidden secrets to make the investigation more complex and engaging.

Adding depth to your characters also helps create an emotional connection. This is especially important for the victim, you need to show your readers why they should care about this character’s death.

In A Good Girl’s Guide To Murder everyone’s illtreatment towards Sal’s family made the readers empathetic and had us rooting for Pip. It is important to establish some semblance of this empathy, or any other emotion such as anger, for your victims.

Use The Setting To Your Advantage

In a murder mystery, the setting can play a crucial role in providing clues and red herrings. Think about the location where the murder took place, and how it could provide hints about the killer's identity or motives. Perhaps there's a hidden object or a peculiar feature of the setting that only the killer would know about.

On the other hand, you can also use the setting to throw off the reader's suspicion, by including false clues or misdirections. For example, a character may have a motive to commit the murder in a particular location, but it turns out that they were actually somewhere else at the time. Overall, the setting is a powerful tool that can enhance the suspense and intrigue of a murder mystery, so make sure to use it to your advantage.

In addition to using the setting to provide clues and red herrings, it's also important to use it to create a mood and atmosphere that supports the murder mystery genre. Consider using a dark and moody setting, like a creepy old mansion or a foggy alleyway, to create tension and suspense.

You can also use the setting to create obstacles for your characters to overcome, like a hidden trapdoor. By making the setting a key part of your story, you can enhance the overall experience for your readers and make your murder mystery even more memorable.

Tie Up Loose Ends

Tying up loose ends is an essential part of writing a murder mystery. The reader expects a satisfying conclusion, and that can only happen when all loose ends are resolved. It's important to address any unanswered questions and resolve any plot holes.

Plot holes can be frustrating for readers and can ruin the entire reading experience. As a writer, it's your responsibility to make sure that there are no unresolved issues in your story. If there are any inconsistencies or plot holes, they need to be addressed and resolved.

To ensure that all loose ends are tied up, it's helpful to create a list of all the questions that need to be answered by the end of the story. Go through your manuscript multiple times, checking to make sure that each question is answered and that all loose ends are resolved.

By taking the time to tie up loose ends and address any plot holes, you can create a satisfying conclusion that will leave your readers feeling impressed with your attention to detail.

Practice Makes Perfect

To write a good murder mystery, you need to practice. Writing a successful mystery requires a skill and experience, and you can't expect to get it right the first time. Practice by reading other murder mysteries and taking note of how other authors structure their stories, how they use clues and foreshadowing, and how they misdirect the reader.

When you're writing your own murder mystery, don't be afraid to make mistakes. It's common for writers to encounter plot holes or inconsistencies in their story. The important thing is to recognize these mistakes and fix them as soon as possible. One way to do this is to get feedback from other writers or beta readers.

Remember, the more you practice, the better you'll become. Don't get discouraged if your first attempts aren't perfect. Keep writing, keep learning, and keep honing your craft. Eventually, you'll be able to write a murder mystery that will keep your readers guessing until the very end.

I hope this blog on how to get away with murder and write a murder mystery will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and marketing tools for authors every Monday and Thursday

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bella-rose29 · 11 months ago

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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 4

Christmas Eve, and the day of the party.

once again I maintain the idea that lockwood has his tea as a Cameron special (for absolutely no reason, they've just merged into one being in my mind)

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: swearing, family members being mean, lockwood never put his pyjamas back on, I should mention now that they're 18 for plot and ethical reasons, mentions of body image issues, innuendos?

series master list

(image credit to @sxnflowersa_tv on pinterest)

When Y/n woke up the next morning, her first thought was that she was cold.

Her second was that she was in a double bed and not her usual tiny single in Portland Row, and the third was panic at seeing her boss shirtless.

Lockwood's blanket had slipped at some point in the night, and so when she sat up and stretched she was met with the sight of him sleeping soundly in the armchair, his pyjamas folded neatly on the small table next to him. How he wasn't freezing to death she wasn't sure, but then Lockwood had never made sense to her. One minute he was all smiles and charm and then the next he was saying something completely opposite into her ear, and she was left to figure out which version was the real Lockwood.

Today would be difficult, and they had to come to some sort of understanding if they were going to survive the hell that they would soon be entering.

Lockwood didn't look comfortable at all, with his neck at an odd angle and his legs curled up underneath him (he was bound to get pins and needles when he woke up), and Y/n felt the smallest pang of pity before a knock sounded on the bedroom door.

"Are you two awake?" Her mother questioned, likely wanting to know if they wanted tea. Y/n clambered out of bed and leaned against the door.

"Uh, I am," she whispered. "Lock- Anthony's still asleep."

"Right, well do you think he'll want a cup of tea? I'm heading down to make a pot now."

"Oh, yeah. He has it weird though, with sugar and honey."

"I'll pop those on the tray, then, and he can put in what he wants."

"Thanks Mum." She heard her mother shuffle and head down the stairs, knees clicking as she went, and turned back to look at her fake boyfriend. "Fuck," she said, a horrible realisation dawning on her. Lockwood couldn't be in the armchair when her mother brought in the tea, or she'd wonder if they'd had an argument. Walking over, she gave his arm a quick prod.

No response.

She tried again, harder this time, and when he stirred a little she cheered internally. "Lockwood?" she whisper-shouted, giving him a proper shove.

"What? What is it?" He was bolt upright almost immediately, scanning for any signs of danger and reaching for Y/n. "Is everything alright?"

"Uh... yes," she said slowly. "Mum's making tea, and when she brings it in you can't be in the chair or she'll have questions." She stared down at his hand where it was grabbing her pyjama top (an old oversized t-shirt), his knuckles white. "You... you can let go of me now, Lockwood."

"Oh. Right." He retracted his hand, but not before letting it hover in the space between them for a few seconds. He stood up, the blanket falling, and Y/n immediately turned around.

"Why are you naked?!"

"I am not! I got hot in the night so I took my pyjamas off! I still have my pants on, thank you very much!"

"Well put your pyjamas back on!" she shrieked, pressing her hands over her face (despite still having her back to him) and desperately hoping she could delete the image from her brain. She had thought he'd only taken his top off, but since he wore matching pyjamas the pile of clothes on the table had looked like one thing, not two. She could hear him hopping around while he attempted to quickly pull his trousers on, and after a minute or so he cleared his throat.

"Alright, I'm dressed." Y/n turned around slowly, scared that he was joking, and sighed in relief when she realised that he wasn't. "Such a drama queen," he muttered under his breath, clearly not wanting her to hear as he looked to his left with a red face.

"I am not a drama queen, Lockwood. If anybody is the drama queen it's you. Now get in the bed." She pointed at it, glare on her face.

"If you wanted me to sleep with you you could have let me do that last night," he smirked, and she threw a decorative pillow at him.

"Just get in the bed, Lockwood." She went to grab a second pillow when he wriggled his eyebrows at her, and he quickly stopped and pulled back the covers. When he was finally settled she climbed in next to him.

"Y/n."

"What?"

"You should probably come a bit closer." He wasn't wrong, since they were as far away from each other as they could get, but she stubbornly refused to cosy up to him when she didn't need to just yet.

"Hang on." She'd spotted the blanket still crumpled on the floor, and hurried to pick it up just as she heard her mother coming up the stairs. Chucking it over the armchair she rushed back to the bed, pulling the duvet over her just as the door opened.

"Fuck's sake, come here," Lockwood whispered, harshly tugging on her arm and then wrapping his arm around her waist. "Ah, good morning, Emma!"

"Morning! Just got some tea for you here," she put the tray down on Y/n's bedside table and paused for a moment as she took in the two of them in the bed. "How did you sleep? Hopefully you feel rested enough for today?"

"Oh I slept beautifully, thank you." Lockwood beamed up at Emma, and Y/n wondered if she knew that his fingers were stroking the skin of her stomach under her top where it had ridden up.

"I'm glad to hear it! Well, I'll leave you to it!" They both smiled until Y/n's mother was out of the room, but as soon as the door clicked shut behind her they shot away from each other.

"I hope we never have to do that again."

"We'll have to do it tomorrow morning, darling."

"Nobody else is here, you don't need to keep calling me that."

"Ah, yes. Sorry, Schmoopie."

"I hate you. I'm going to poison your tea." She was getting the mugs ready now, adding extra honey to one and pouring in the water over the tea bags.

"And I will happily drink it."

A few minutes later (she'd had to let the tea stew for a bit) she poured in the milk and handed over his mug.

"Did you add in the sugar?"

"Yep."

"And the honey?"

"You watched me do it, Lockwood."

"Right, yes. I did." He was quiet for a moment, staring into the contents of his mug. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied, mild shock running through her at the sincerity of his gratitude.

They drank their tea in silence.

~~~

"So, just to recap, there are around fifty people coming over today?"

"Yep," Y/n said through a mouthful of cereal. "All extended family members and close family friends and their families. I've been thinking about it, and as much as it pains me to say it I think... ugh," she scowled into her bowl. "I think you're right abo-"

"Ha! Finally! I got you to say it! About what?"

"If you'd let me finish, you would know, idiot."

"Oh, yes. Sorry."

"I think you're right about needing to do a big speech to everyone all in one go about..." she gestured between the two of them vaguely, "us."

"Ah. Yes, it would save a lot of time, wouldn't it?"

"Hm, it would. And then we only have to remember things once really."

"Remind me again what the story was?" They were sat in the kitchen, the only ones up other than Y/n's mother (who was upstairs getting things ready).

"What was 8 months ago?"

"Why 8 months?" Lockwood frowned over his second mug of tea that morning.

"Because that's what I told Steph last night."

"Oh. Uh, April I think? There was that one job we went on in March, just the two of us. We could stick pretty close to the truth then if we used that as a death scare that made you realise that you couldn't possibly live without me."

"Wasn't the story that you realised you were hopelessly in love with me one day and asked me out, but I refused multiple times until eventually I gave in to get you to shut up?"

"Well, yes. But I just think that- morning, Stephanie." His smile was clearly forced, and Y/n realised with a start that she was beginning to be able to tell which of his smiles were real.

"Morning you two. Hopefully you didn't get too frisky last night after that adorable kiss under the mistletoe!"

"No, we-"

"Well, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Stephanie," Lockwood smirked, and Y/n rolled her eyes at his interruption. Her cousin was lapping it up, and after a few minutes the kitchen was filled with various members of Y/n's family as they all filed in, bleary eyed and reaching for tea and coffee. They would have to figure out their story while they got ready for the party, since they definitely couldn't get details straight with so many people in the room.

"Morning, Squeak," her brother Will murmured as he sat on a stool next to her at the counter. Y/n scoffed at the nickname, but there was nothing resentful behind it. "Sleep alright?"

"Yeah, did you?" He nodded in response as he started shovelling mouthfuls of cereal in, the bowl nearly spilling over with the amount of food in it.

"Lover boy didn't give you too much grief last night, did he?"

"No, he was alright."

"Hey, if you need a break at any point today come and find me, yeah? I'll fend off any inquisitive relatives."

"Thanks, Will." He was only a couple of years older than her, being the third youngest of her brothers, but Will liked to act as though he was the oldest of all of the L/n siblings. In fairness Tom was eleven and Sam and John who were thirty and twenty-eight respectively were rarely home or in contact with her, and she didn't have as much of a bond with them. Olivia was a year younger than Y/n, but since they had shared a room growing up they had fought consistently over the years about completely irrelevant things and barely talked outside of gatherings.

"Anytime. I think me and the boys were gonna take your lover boy away at some point to give him the proper talk, so if you can't find any of us later that'll be why."

"Please stop calling him 'lover boy', Will," she grimaced, not noticing Lockwood come up behind her.

"But I am your lover boy, darling." She whipped her head around to see Lockwood leaning against the counter next to her with a soft smile.

Weird. She'd thought he would be smirking instead.

Will snorted, then tipped his bowl up to drink the last of the milk. "You two," he said after he'd finished, "are quite possibly the most sickening thing I have ever seen."

~~~

"Is a suit too much, do you think?"

"Maybe leave the tie," Y/n called out from the bathroom where she was getting changed. She had long since pulled on the burgundy dress, but not knowing when Lockwood would be in a state where she could walk out meant that she had spent the last five minutes staring at her reflection in the mirror. She was absolutely certain that multiple people would make comments about her figure, or compare her to Stephanie, or both, and she was dreading leaving the bathroom. Then there would be the comments about her job, and how being an agent was a terrible choice and she should have gone into full-time education instead.

"Y/n? You can come out when you're ready."

She sighed shakily, taking one last look at herself in the mirror above the sink before unlocking the door and stepping out.

Lockwood was in one of his usual suits, pink socks poking out from under his trousers, and he was just sorting out his cuffs when he looked up and froze. When he still didn't say anything Y/n's mind started racing ahead to all the different possibilities.

"I look awful, don't I? I'll get my jeans and jumper and get changed, give me a minute."

"No!" Lockwood shouted, his arms outstretched. He hesitated, then spoke again, and his voice was back to how it sounded when he was being an arse. "No, don't do that, just... you look fine like that and we'll be late if you get changed now."

"Oh. Alright." She frowned, wrapping her arms around her midriff as she inspected Lockwood's outfit. "Wait, don't move," she called out when he went to move. Y/n walked over to him, then reached up to straighten out his collar. It had been sticking up, so she smoothed her hands over it to right it, letting them linger on his chest afterwards. He wasn't moving, and she was quite sure that he wasn't breathing either, and when she looked up at him she realised that she was holding her breath too.

They hadn't been this close since they kissed the night before, and then they'd had an audience.

Now it was just the two of them, alone in the room.

"Y/n?" Lockwood asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Yeah?" Had his face moved closer? Suddenly she could make out the individual colours in his eyes and was able to count the freckles on his cheeks. He licked his lips, tilting his head slightly to brush his nose against hers, and she felt her eyes fluttering closed.

"Are you two nearly ready? Emma needs help getting food and things ready for the guests!" A loud knock accompanied the shrill voice of Y/n's Aunt Linda, and the pair of them sprang apart, clearing their throats and avoiding eye contact. Y/n marched over to the door and wrenched it open, plastering a smile on her warm face.

"We're ready! Anthony? You coming?"

"Yeah, just... I'll be down in a minute, darling. I just need to use the loo." He flashed the two women a smile, then disappeared into the en-suite. Y/n could have killed him for leaving her alone, but maybe that was for the best given what had just happened.

"Come on then," Linda said, and ushered her downstairs.

~~~

Everyone was busy doing something, and everything was in complete chaos.

"Oh, that can go over there. Tom, don't put that in your mouth, please. No, over there, Ben. Tom! Not in your mouth! You're eleven, this shouldn't be difficult! Boys, please stop mucking about and do something useful! Over there- oh for god's sake, give it here!" Y/n's mother snatched a plate of food away from her husband, rushing between the kitchen and the dining room that was through the open double doors off to the side. The whole area would be brimming with guests in less than thirty minutes, and things were still being put out. "Oh, you're here, that's perfect. Where's Anthony? Never mind, no time. Here, you can put this next to the thingy there!" Luckily Y/n had grown up with her mother's distracted way of talking and knew exactly what she meant, taking the opportunity to run away from Linda.

The next ten minutes followed the same pattern of being handed things and told to put them in various spots on the table, and Lockwood was nowhere to be seen for any of it. Y/n was starting to worry that he'd flushed his skinny beanpole of a frame down the toilet.

"Where's your boyfriend, Y/n?" Stephanie asked, sidling up in a stunning silver dress that looked as though it had been painted on her.

"In the toilet. Are you gonna help, Steph?"

"Oh, you're... wearing that again?" she asked, ignoring Y/n's tired request for help. "Didn't you wear that last year? You've put on a bit of weight since then, haven't you!" She let out a laugh, and Y/n brought her arms around her stomach self-consciously for the second time since putting on the dress. Maybe she should have ignored Lockwood and got changed anyway. At least then when people complained about her outfit she'd be more comfortable in her own body. "Well, personally I think you should get it let out a little, Y/n. You do look awfully-"

"Beautiful?" a voice questioned from Y/n's right, and after a second someone else's arms were around her waist, pulling her back against a warm chest. "She does look stunning, doesn't she?"

"Anthony," Y/n breathed when he spun her around to face him, his hands holding hers tightly. He was smiling one of those private smiles reserved for the people he cared about, small and gentle, and her heart jumped in her chest.

"I... I suppose," Stephanie said, sounding confused. It was so typical of her to not think of her cousin as anything other than a way to make herself look better. Y/n barely noticed when her cousin drifted off, or when her brother picked up his camera and took a photo of the two of them framed by the lights that had been draped over the doorframe, since all she could focus on was the feel of her hands being held by Lockwood and the way he was looking at her.

"Aww, aren't they just adorable!" Y/n's grandmother Jean said loudly, catching the attention of everybody nearby. Apparently half of the guests had arrived on time (of course the one time that happened was the time she had to pull off a huge fake dating stunt), because the kitchen and dining room were packed with people. Murmurs of assent travelled around, and Y/n could hear a few people questioning who the tall young man next to her was, and suddenly her heart was plummeting rather than jumping, and she felt sick.

"Hey," Lockwood whispered, still smiling at her. "We can do this, alright? It's only today and most of tomorrow, and then we're back in London. It's really not that long when you think about it."

He needed to stop being nice to her, because it was freaking her out.

One minute he was saying she looked fine and not seeming to care much about what she looked like, and the next he was declaring that she was beautiful and stunning with such sincerity that she couldn't help but think it was real.

"So this is the boyfriend Linda told us about, huh?" one guest asked.

"Um... yes," Y/n replied, moving closer to Lockwood and curling into his side, trying not to look too stiff and petrified when his arm came around her side. "This is Anthony." She gestured up at him, feeling increasingly uncomfortable about the fact that around thirty people all had their eyes on her, and any one of them could work out that this relationship was a farce and completely destroy any good reputation that she had amongst her family.

"How did it all start? Go on, give us the story!" somebody called out.

"Yeah, we all want to know!" exclaimed a different voice. "Y/n/n's never had a boyfriend before!"

Y/n shared a glance with Lockwood, and he opened his mouth to speak.

part 5

Tag list (I think this is everyone): @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

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demonslayedher · 1 year ago

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Just thinking about how Chachamaru is a male calico, at least according the Taisho Secret right before chapter 195 that calls him manly. It really doesn't surprise me that he's male, because so many references to calicos I've seen in manga, mascots, and temple architecture specify that the featured calico is male.

This is because they are rare, and therefore considered lucky.

The figure that gets thrown around the internet is that supposedly only 1 in every 3000 calicos is male. (I'll bet the people who did the often quoted study at U. of Minn. College of Vet Med would love to tell you how it's more complicated than that.) This has long made male calicos popular not only in Japan, but in other countries as well. The thing is, though, the male calico might not always be so lucky.

To be very brief about why calicos (and some other multicolored cats) are almost always female, this is because, put very simply, one X chromosome gives us the black splotches, and one X chromosome gives us the orange splotches. That might leave you wondering where the white patches come from, and this is the part where I say that genetics is never simple and you should have fun reading about it. The important takeaway here is that in order to show this color pattern, a cat needs two X chromosomes, one from its mother and one from its father.

Typically, a male cat has an X chromosome (from its female mother, who only has two X chromosomes) and a Y chromosome (from its father, who had both an X and a Y), but because the calico coating can only occur with two X chromosomes, this male cat somehow got an X, a Y, and... hmm, another X somewhere.

So not a typical XY male, not a typical XX calico... this sterile XXY male calico has an extra chromosome, and mutations often are not ideal for the health of the animal with the extra chromosome. This particular condition is Klinefelter’s Syndrome, which can lead to a male calico having cognitive and behavior issues, weaker bones, increased risk of diabetes due to higher body fat, and perhaps a shorter lifespan.

Now, none of the fictitious lucky cats I've seen have ever been portrayed as anything less than smart and pleasant, though a lot of the maneki-neko are pretty round. For everything Chachamaru is tasked with, I have to assume he's above-average when it comes to intelligence, reasonably healthy enough to handle long-distance travel, and for a cat, he's extremely, extremely cooperative. For the record, the same Taisho Secret (as well as Yushiro's statement in Chapter 194) makes it clear that for most of canon Chachamaru was a regular cat, for he was not made into a demon until right before the final showdown with Muzan. Even with her hands full making the medicine for Muzan, she still put a lot of effort into changing Chachamaru so that Yushiro wouldn't be lonely. It's ironic that Chachamaru winds up immortal, rather than doomed to a potentially shorter lifespan due to his mark...ings. In the first place, was Tamayo perhaps moved with pity for a sickly kitten and nursed him to the health he's in now?

Or did she always keep her eye out for a male calico, wanting to put some faith in them being good luck?

Also, what sticks out to me in this Taisho Secret is that Chachamaru, not having a language in which he could communicate with Tamayo, had no choice in becoming a demon. Tamayo felt sorry about that. The word bubble over manly little Chachamaru says, with bravado, "Fine by me, if that's what the woman I'm smitten with wishes." If Chachamaru truly is that smitten with her, that perhaps accounts for what an unusually cooperative cat he is. But it also reminds me of a fan theory that I saw once (and found worthy of weight) which said that perhaps Tamayo's blood technique has an effect like makes others smitten with her, and Yushiro might had been under its influence, however strongly or subtly. If such a thing were the case, it might or might not had been something Tamayo was conscious of. If she was conscious of having some effect like that, she probably felt awful about it but found it a necessary precaution to keep any demon she made under control. If she wasn't conscious of such a thing, that means she might had subconsciously developed it out of loneliness, and had been trying to keep company at her side.

#kny fandom theories and meta #kny nerdery #chachamaru #tamayo

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yuri-is-online · 2 years ago

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And Your Name Is? (Jade, Leona, Riddle)

Synopsis- After successfully resolving whatever was causing NRC to be trapped in an endless time loop of overblotting and disaster, one last reset should give him a chance to experience a normal school year with you. But instead you find yourself trapped in the here and there, appearing as a vague shadow around the school that vanishes as soon as he catches up to you. The kind thing to do would be to allow you to be forgotten in the chance it lets you return to your world.

But this is Twisted Wonderland where the kind thing is seldom done, and he wants you back as much as you want to find him again.

a/n: Look, I don't know who decided to make MICKY MOUSE a sadman deadwife in Disney's attempt at animal crossing but it gave me ideas. This is shamelessly based off that questline, feel free to request other characters. Everyone deserves a chance at angst. This probably won't be the last time I'll write something with this sort of premise meh

notes: angst with the intent of comfort, Jade is a red flag. Otherwise mild.

Jade Leech

It’s a wonder you ever lived here. Ramshackle is cold, Jade can’t bring himself to say lifeless for fear of speaking a crueler fate into existence, but the word’s on the tip of his tongue nonetheless. It’s a pity this is where you call “home,” but he can work with this. He can sweep up the cobwebs, dust every broken surface before popping the timbers back into place, figure out how to repair the upholstery so long as he sees the shimmery light that forms your shape begin to fill in. He knows if he reaches for you that you will disappear, so he lets you observe as he keeps you in the corner of his eye. Jade is careful, methodical, even as his hands shake as he launders your sheets and fluffs pillows on a bed he really wants to burn for its audacity to be so uncomfortable. He vaguely recalls requesting you make one room of this place into a giant terrarium once, a silly request he’s sure he’d make again if he could just speak to you, for no other reason than to hear you laugh. But, he supposes as he slips himself into your bed reaching out towards the in between as if he can pull you from the here and there with the sheer force of his longing; he is already sort of doing that. Just like the Sea Witch keeping creatures in glass bottles he’s trying to replicate the perfect environment for you.

“Jade?”

“I’m here.” he murmurs, not daring to open his eyes just yet, instead reaching for where he thinks your face should be. “Do you hear me? It’s past your bedtime, prefect.”

“Jade.”

“It’s awfully lonely here.” He hates the way he sounds. It’s too raw, too clear with his intent to be the tease he wants it to be. “Won’t you come to bed?”

“Jade!” His eyes open, his hand lands on you, the real you, not a shade made up of his memory, he manages to crush the urge to cry and pulls you up into his embrace. Your eyes are unfocused, confused but moving towards his touch as if you were searching for it. “W-who.. I have to find…” You move, on instinct towards his heartbeat, as he slowly strokes your arms to soothe your shaking. “Jade… I’m looking for-”

“You found me.” Jade is gentle, careful as he searches over you for any sign of distress or injury, sighing in relief when he only finds confusion. It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember specifics. It doesn’t matter to him if you’ve forgotten your own name, Jade’s known and loved you for three timelines now, he’ll remind you of who you are if that’s what you want. In the meantime, he slowly encloses you in the safety of his embrace and tries not to smile too wide as you naturally relax into him. He will build you a beautiful garden in this world, and nothing will ever harm you this badly ever again, he swears it.

Leona Kingscholar

How many times has he been forced to watch you die? He’s not sure, his memory clearly doesn’t want to cooperate with him out of fear he’ll consider the failures a waste of energy, consider you wasted energy. Give in to the self-sabotaging part of him that never wanted to love you in the first place and abandon you to your fate, and yet no matter how many times he held your limp form in his arms he never had. There was something mildly addicting in the realization that you chose him in every lifetime. Not that stupid lizard or stuck up diva, him the second born, grumpy, lazy lion.

“Leona?” Your shade has always been able to speak, and Leona’s always been able to hear it. It’s like you’re trying to retrace your steps through time, starting with your meeting in the botanical gardens up to your stay in his room. He tries to tell himself you’re like a flea burrowing its way into his skin, irritating in your presence, unwelcome. He tries to tell himself if you didn’t mean enough to this world to keep a corporeal form that you shouldn’t mean anything to him. If Twisted Wonderland rejected you then so should he.

“Leona.” He hates how alone you sound. He hates how he can see you around the gardens but can’t hear footsteps, see you sitting on the edge of the balcony but not smell you. He really wants to hate you.

“I have to… promised… Leona…”

“I’m here you know.” he mutters, half asleep under the heavy curtain of vines in the botanical gardens. “You wanna keep your promise? Then quit runnin away.” Silence. Always silence, even in his dreams no matter how hard he tries to will you back into existence. He wants to stare you down, he really does, but how is he supposed to be anything but shocked when it's really you in front of him, listless and confused.

“Leona?” You’re confused, that much is clear. He wonders, smugly as he rises without complaint for once, if his name is the only thing you remember. The flicker of fear in your eyes is something he can do without, but if you know his name then somewhere inside that empty head of yours should be the same memories that have been plaguing him.

“I hope you’re prepared.” his tail swishes in excitement, and though you remain confused he delights in how you remain unafraid. “For just what you signed up for by callin my name.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Your shadow likes to sit in the Heartslabyul rose garden. Riddle is thankful for that, his gaze is hard to avoid here. He can keep an eye on you this way while he tries to find a solution for… whatever this is. It’s sickening, really, how useless he is without a rulebook or a study guide to follow. His memories of the past time loops might be blurry but he wonders if you ever felt frustrated with him in any of them. Someone as beautiful and wonderful as you constantly choosing someone as boring as him, he wants to be proud. He wants to point out that he is clearly in the right, in some sort of way, he has to be if he was loved in any way by you. It hurts him all the more to be so useless to you, to find so little concrete about the here and there and be told by every adult he reaches out to that the only thing they know is that no one who goes there ever comes back.

His dormmates like to keep a degree of distance from you. Riddle knows that they don’t know it’s you, he’s tried to explain to them multiple times and seen as they fight hard against whatever magic is trying to erase you from Twisted Wonderland to remember clearly who you were. It’s especially hard to watch Ace and Deuce loop through their worry over you and their anger at having forgotten only to get lost in the fog once again. He had to stop himself from trying, causing your best friends pain wouldn’t bring you back to them, to him. Riddle’s stubborn, he can take the confused looks of his house when he insists they let him have a private tea party with the strange ghost that’s taken up residence in their maze.

“I’m uncertain if our professors remember what happened, but I can say with certainty some of the material has changed. It’s a relief that the quality of our education hasn’t regressed.” He pours you a cup of tea, working off of muscle memory he can’t recall the context for anymore to make it in a way you must have liked. “I’ve been taking detailed notes on what my freshmen have been learning, when you return-” his voice cracks in panic as your shadow’s outline flickers “when you return…” he tries, softer this time focusing on gently setting down the tea pot “I’ll make sure you aren’t left behind. Ace and Deuce will keep their memories this time and we’ll all get to hang out together again, you’ll always have- you always have had a place in Heartslabyul, so please, please come back.” Riddle likes to think of himself as an adult, but he pouts and cries so easily. He can feel the tears bubbling up and obscuring his vision. Hiding the view of your shadow’s shape filling in.

“Riddle?” He hiccups, undignified, unbelieving the sight he’s seeing. You look so small, so confused but still so concerned for him, pausing to reach for a napkin to wipe his tears despite how unfocused you otherwise seem to be. You reach for him, shaky but still determined. “Are you Riddle?” you whisper. “I’ve been searching for him, I promised not to let go of his hand.” Riddle reaches for your hand with both of his, leaning into you. “I’m worried he’s lonely.”

“I was.” He isn’t crying anymore, Riddle likes to think he never will again as he presses a kiss into your palm. “You can rest now prefect, you’ve made it home.”

#twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech

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