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agi-ppangx · 4 months

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the boy who turned my head (lee minho x fem!reader)

word count: 1,6k author's note: this is the last fic in 2023. thank you for your constant support, i wouldn't have done anything without any of you<3 i hope 2024 will be kind for all of us. i'll try my best to continue this wonderful tumblr journey with you by my side. i love you all<3

it all started with a song.

it was pretty late and the party had been going for a few hours. the alcohol in your veins made your brain all fuzzy and it wasn’t long before you ended up on the dancefloor, forgetting about the world around you as you swayed to yet another song blasting from the speakers. you felt happy as you threw your hands in the air, laughing loudly.

then the songs changed and everyone’s attention shifted to the boy in the middle of the crowd, grinning widely while dancing to bruno mars’ song. people cheered as the boy smoothly performed the dance steps and you did too, until he locked his eyes with yours and you stopped in your tracks. the world around you collapsed as it was only you and him left. the boy smiled at you and took your hand and, well, swept you to the middle of the dance floor. and you let him, of course you let him - he was just so charming and his smile was so mesmerising and he looked at you with the literal galaxies in his eyes and-

“kiss her!” someone shouted from the crowd, loud enough for the boy to hear. he looked at you with a giddy smile, resting his forehead on yours.

“may i?” he mouthed, searching for the answer in your curious eyes. you blinked a few times, thinking about it, and then without any warning leaned forward to capture the boy’s lips in a passionate, yet a bit messy kiss. you squished his cheeks with your palms, earning a little giggle that escaped his mouth right into yours. and you stayed on the dance floor long after that, your steps becoming more and more wobbly, but you knew he wouldn’t let you fall.

“can i have your number?” he asked you in the morning as you were heading to the exit, the sun lazily creeping out from behind the horizon. your head hurt, your phone was dead and you were still drunk.

“my number…? i, um- wait, what’s your name?” you mumbled, looking at him with glassy eyes.

“it’s minho,” he chuckled, blushing slightly. he must’ve had a greater tolerance for alcohol, because except for his goofy aura he looked perfectly fine.

“oh, right! so, minho, unfortunately i’m too drunk now and i forgot my number,” you started, wobbling a little on your feet. minho quickly wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you stay stable. “so maybe you should ask chan? i’m sure he has my number somewhere in his phone.” he nodded, letting out a little “ah”.

“will you get home safely?” he then asked, scanning your rather pathetically looking figure. you smiled, nodding.

“yeah, my friend- she should be here any minute now,” you slurred, seeing the familiar car pull on the driveway. “oh, she’s here! see, i told you,” you grinned, patting his arm a few times. “see you soon, minho,” you waved at him, slowly making your way to the car, leaving the boy behind you.

“who was that?” your friend asked curiously as she noticed your giddy smile. you looked at him one last time before she drove off and you sighed dreamily.

“a boy who turned my head.”

. . . .

the cold wind made you shiver as you stepped out of changbin’s house. you were wearing that short blue dress that minho liked so much, but he wasn’t particularly interested in it anyway. throughout the whole party he’d acknowledged you once, only saying a vague “hi” to you.

it’d been going like that for months. since the very beginning your relationship with minho was constantly balancing between friendship and something more. one day he was all over you, taking you on dates and holding your hand for the whole time, only for him to ghost you for the next few weeks or dismiss you with short messages. he showered you in gifts, kissing your forehead and smiling like a teenager in love, but whenever a sweet old lady in the store would call you such a cute couple, minho would immediately cut her off, saying that she’s only my friend. and it made you confused and hurt - didn’t he see how much love your eyes contained for him? didn’t he see how hard you fell for him?

“yn? where are you going?” you heard minho’s voice behind you. he placed his hand on your shoulder, stopping you before you had the chance to walk out. it was getting close to midnight - you could’ve waited to celebrate new year with everyone and then go, but you’d had too much.

“home. i’m kind of tired,” you shrugged your shoulders, dropping your head not to make eye contact with minho. the wind blew again and you covered yourself with your arms. why didn’t you take something warmer with you?

“oh, here,” he said, taking off his jacket and trying to put it on your shoulders, but you took a step back. It left minho dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing a few times as if he was trying to say something.

“i don’t- i don’t want your jacket,” you mumbled, your voice already breaking a little. great, you thought. “i told you i’m tired.”

“yeah, but what does it have to do with me giving you my jacket?” minho chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere a bit. to say he was confused would be an understatement. you sighed loudly, looking around. was he really that blind?

“it’s not about the fucking jacket, minho!” you snapped, feeling defeated. your eyes started to get glassy, tears slowly forming in the corners of them. you shook your head, trying to calm yourself down. “i’m tired of you treating me like a toy,” you whispered the last word, taking in a sharp breath. “you always come to me whenever you feel lonely and then ghost me when your needs are met. but you somehow completely missed the fact that i, in fact, am a human being myself and i-” you stopped abruptly when minho stood right in front of you with a frightened expression. you looked him in the eyes and suddenly the world around you vanished, just like the day you first met.

“do you really feel used by me?” he whispered in disbelief, his voice so quiet and weak that you almost felt bad for him. you let out a shaky breath, a single tear slowly falling down your face.

“i- no, it's just- we do all of that cute stuff together, we cuddle and we go on our little dates and i thought it meant something to you,” you mumbled, wiping your face. you heard some noise from inside the house and you knew midnight was getting closer. “i just feel really dumb, you know? i fell for someone who doesn’t even care about me,” you chuckled dryly, taking a step back and trying to walk away, but minho was quicker. he wrapped his hand around your wrist and in a smooth motion brought you to his chest, hugging you tightly.

“i’m so sorry, i- i was scared, i was so stupid,” he rambled, combing his fingers through your hair. you stiffed, not sure what to do next, though it was nice to feel minho’s arm cradling you again. “i was afraid i’d lose you, that you’d leave me if i got too vulnerable.” you wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing him gently as he continued. you inhaled softly his cologne and it made you cry a bit more. that’s how home smells for you. “i never wanted to make you feel this way, i’m so sorry,” he whispered another apology and you just stood there, unable to form a sentence. minho mumbled i’m sorry and please forgive me over and over into your hair like a mantra and it made you smile faintly into his chest.

suddenly you heard people shouting inside the house and you realised that they were counting down. you thought quickly, trying to decide what to do. 10, 9, 8. you pulled away from minho’s chest slightly so you could look him in the eyes. you realised he was crying. 7, 6, 5. you cupped his cheeks, wiping the tears that had fallen. you smiled at him and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. he looked as if he tried to take as much as he could from that moment, like it was meant to be taken away from him forever when the clock strikes midnight. 4, 3, 2. you leaned forward, letting your foreheads touch and minho snapped his eyes open. he looked confused, but a smile finally appeared on his face. 1, 0, new year! minho’s lips crashed into yours, taking your breath away, but you let him, of course you let him. now it was quiet, only the two of you left on the planet as you kissed with the same lust as the first time.

you were the first to pull away, desperately gasping for air with the biggest grin plastered on your face. minho cradled your face gently. his entire world fit in his hands.

“let’s say it’s forgiven, not forgotten,” you whispered. “you don’t have to apologise anymore if you promise me to work on your behaviour.” minho nodded at your words, kissing you again as if he tried to seal the oath.

“now you can actually give me the jacket, i’m freezing,” you said with a giggle and he chuckled, placing the material over your shoulders and you happily inhaled his scent one more time. you were home again.

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #skz angst #stray kids fluff #skz lee know #skz minho #stray kids lee know #lee know skz #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know scenarios #lee know angst #lee know fluff

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privitivium · 2 months

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hiiiiii ^^ i just wanted to say i love ur work sm lol

i really like yandere stuff but i literally cannot find it for m!reader at most like gn!reader

anyhow ♥️yanderes♥️

i particularly like the pathetic loser yandere type (streamer yan had me giggling)

if you can, could you write something with a loser yandere?? tysm

I Will Be Back.

okay william afton ... pls come back soon :3

loser m yandere x m reader thoughts. basically. ahemhrmhmrm.

loser! yan who’s just a loner gamer guy who happened to get attached to you because you decide to befriend him… him, having a crush on you and YOU MAKING THE FIRST MOVE?!?!! he's supposed to be the alpha male... tch. he's gonna be a little weird about his irl friend, you - his crush, ( having a plethora of online friends and whatnot.. ) and initially be distant at first because he's nervous that his pretty crush that he actually fucking stalks wants to be his friend… thinks it's a set up at first, but only because he's paranoid,,, then wanting to be close to you at every given time like a little freak. bro constantly stalking ur socials even if there's nothing new, ever. going through all your highlights and seeing ur face… rolling around because he likes you so much,,, printing out a picture because he doesn't want to seem too strange if he prints out a whole bunch because he totally thinks that you'll see if you happen to come over… which is why he has a little shrine box underneath his bed instead with a porno magazine of guys that vaguely resemble you!!!!

loser! yan... type of guy to go crazy, rocking back and forth, when you don't answer his texts when ur visibly active,,,, like.... w-who the fuck do you think you are??? are you fucking kidding???? Is he not Important to you???? Not important enough to answer his texts of memes and clips of funny animals?????? then being so happy when you finally respond but still so bitter that he leaves you on delivered for a whole “five minutes”. then answering so quickly and so excitedly,,, cant help his emotions, out of touch as blood shoots to his groin at the thought of you acting like he does over you messaging him. liek,,, do you do that too? … get jealous over him texting over people..? the thought makes him ache bro. uaagghghg jerking himself off to the voice clips of your voice he's recorded over your late “fall asleep on the phone” calls…

loser! yan when sleeping over, or if roommates, just stares at you while you sleep while a random hardstyle song plays in the back of his mind. literally pulling the curtains of your window back just to see the moonlight hit your face while standing in the dark corner where you could probably make out his silhouette if you stared hard enough. hes delusional ,,,,, touching himself in the corner bro. before stealing a pair of ur underwear to go jerk off with,,,, jerking off in the shower while covering his mouth and imagining you jerking him off while muttering praise or degrading him. he'll take either one, fr.

but then that same scenario actually happening in real life??? god he cums so quick hes so fucking embarrassed. how can he not? you, grinding into him from behind while hurriedly yet languidly stroking his naked cock in hand with your other hand covering his mouth; keeping him in your hold with ur back pressed to a dark hallway wall.. your breathing,,, so heavy and ragged,,,, your erection,,, pressing into his ass…,,,, he cant help but jerk his hips forward into your hand, trying to help as he whimpers behind your palm.,,, EEKEKEWK

loser! yan who stalks you at work in his free time bro... like,,, hes lonely and he misses you, his "best friend",,,, so. staring at you through the windows of your workplace with binoculars through tinted windows of his car while “creep by radiohead” blasts through the radio. LMAOO

loser! yan who, when finally in a relationship - most definitely toxic in its own way - with you, literally begs you to be touching on him every second. whether it be sexual or literally just laying your hand on his arm while sitting or somethingㅡbro just craves ur touch. knowing that hes yours just gets him all giddy and shit.. constantly getting boners and extremely tired after he begs you to do something about it too,,,, freak.

#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#loser yan....#x male reader #male reader #top male reader #x top male reader #x dom male reader #dom male reader #sub bottom character #sub male character!!!#yandere male x reader #yandere x male reader #yan m x m reader......

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pedroshotwifey · 4 months

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Christmas Countdown Day 17 - Mulled Wine

Treat

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k (on the dot)

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, fluff, daddy kink, piv sex, DIRTY dirty talk, soft dom joel, but also degrading nicknames (in a loving way), idk y'all its 2:00 am rn, frottage, stuff i'm forgetting

Summary: Joel thanks you for your consideration

A/N: I'm so tired, but I think this turned out pretty good. Lots of dirty talk. Idk. I'm putting this in my queue and passing tf out. Idk what happened bc this was supposed to be sweet and then it turned so dirty.

****

You watch Joel from the window as you finish stirring your ingredients one final time. It had been a bit of a struggle to get everything you needed to create a mulled wine, but you had done it.

Joel had mentioned to you in passing how he used to drink it around Christmas time before the outbreak. He’d invite Tommy over and the brothers would sit at the kitchen table with Sarah.

Joel would sip on his wine while Tommy indulged on his usual beer, absolutely refusing to touch Joel’s “sissy drink”. Sarah had asked once if she could have a mug of it, and so she ended up with a warm apple cider.

The story had made you laugh, you could almost see Tommy teasing Joel while Sarah whined for her own “sissy drink”.

They would sit around with their respective drinks after decorating the tree and recall fond memories. It was one of Joel’s favorite traditions back then, and you could tell he had a hard time opening up about it.

He’s been doing so much better with it lately–opening up to you. He used to not let a thing slip, but since you’ve settled in Jackson with Ellie, he’s been able to relax a bit. You don’t try to rush it, but you’re happy that he’s finally able to do so.

You sigh contentedly as you divide the wine into two steaming mugs. Looking back out the window, you can see Joel coming back up from the shed where Ellie had insisted on living. He’s halfway back to the main house now.

You think it’s cute, but also good for her, that she wanted to be independent. Though you would hate to be any farther from her. You know Joel feels the same way with how much he talks about it and goes over there to fix small things for her.

Just now, he had been over there re-caulking the window frames. He’s been worried about how cold it might be getting in there lately with all the snow outside.

Just then, Joel opens the door, a blast of frosty air blowing in with him and making you shiver. He notices you immediately, a smile adorning his rosy features.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he starts to pull his gloves off. “What’re you doin?”

You step to him, starting to help him with his thick leather jacket. He sets his gloves down on the kitchen counter and allows you to pry the coat off.

“Just making a treat,” you say, trying to hide the excitement in your voice.

“Oh?” Joel questions with a slight chuckle at your vague answer. “What kinda treat?”

You bite your lip to suppress your smile as you hang his coat up on the rack by the door before backtracking to the stove. You pick up the two steaming mugs of wine and walk back to him.

Joel knows what it is as soon as you pass him his mug. He looks down at it, then at you with nothing but love and gratitude. Not only had you remembered him talking about how much he enjoyed it, but you had gone out of your way to do something nice for him.

You watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. It did cross your mind once or twice while making it that he might not appreciate it because of the memories. That it might bring back things he didn’t want to think about. It didn’t seem likely–maybe a few months ago it would have–but not now. It had still been nagging you nonetheless.

It definitely doesn’t look like that’s the case, though, with the way Joel takes both of the mugs and sets them down to engulf you in a hug. He holds you close to him and whispers a small “thank you, baby” into your hair.

You smile into his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around him.

“You’re welcome, Joel,” you say, pulling your head back. He dips down to kiss you slowly, and you bring one of your hands up to thread into his fluffy graying hair. Joel groans into your lips and keeps ahold of you as he leads you backwards into the living room, your lips staying together as much as possible.

Once he reaches the couch, he sits down, pulling you on top of him. You shift to get situated in his lap, the two of you separating to catch your breath. Keeping eye contact, you grind down on him, making him groan as you pass over his bulge.

“Careful, darlin’,” Joel warns. “Keep that up and I ain’t gonna go easy on you.”

You smile mischievously at him as you do it again, and this time as he groans, he puts his hands over your hips and helps you do it. You allow him to drag you across him, his dick hardening with each pass.

Your clit catches on the fabric of his jeans, making you moan sweetly as you place your forehead on his shoulder.

“Feels good,” you whine as the pressure increases.

“Bet it does,” Joel teases. “My whore’s so starved she can get her little pussy off rubbin’ on my fuckin’ jeans.”

You moan louder at his words as you gyrate your hips, feeling a warmth starting to take over in your belly.

“Yeah, you gonna come like this?” Joel asks.

You just nod, letting him feel your agreement. You’re so close, just a couple more seconds.

“Alright then, go ahead, baby. Come on daddy’s lap with that slutty little cunt.”

And you do. You moan loudly as your movements grow more frantic, your cum seeping out and slicking up your clit to make the glide more pleasurable. The feeling of your pussy throbbing around nothing is almost a tease when you have Joel’s cock within reach.

He seems to know what you’re thinking, because as soon as you stop moving, he reaches for your pants. He unzips them and pats your thigh to make you get up before pulling them and your ruined panties down your thighs and having your step out of them.

You quickly get back onto his lap, covering his lips with yours in a sloppy kiss as he begins to work at his own pants. You can feel the moment he pulls his cock out, and you look down to admire it. You’ve always thought he has such a beautiful cock. Seems fitting for him.

His tip is already an angry red, leaking pre-cum which lubricates his thick shaft as he pumps himself a couple times.

“C’mon, baby, get up here on daddy’s cock. Don’t make me wait.”

You quickly obey, sitting up on your knees to notch him at your entrance. You sink down on him, moaning as he grunts. Your hands fly to his shoulders as he bottoms out, allowing you to adjust for a second.

It is only a second though, before he starts to thrust up into you. You moan at the first punch of his cock against your cervix. He places his hands back on your hips and assists you on bouncing on him.

“Tha’s it, baby,” Joel praises. “Never get tired of this messy fucking pussy. She’s always so hungry for me.”

You whine in agreement as you lift yourself up and down, a wet squelch coming from between your legs each time you fill yourself. Joel gazes into your eyes as you struggle to keep yours open. His teeth grit each time he hits a spot that makes you squeeze around him.

“Feel so good, daddy,” you tell him as you admire the thin sheen of sweat beginning to cover his golden skin. “I-you-I–”

“I know, honey,” Joel cuts you off. “Cockdrunk already.”

His condescending tone never fails to get you going. You fucking love it when he treats you like this, because you know that it’s not real. Just for now, you get to be his slut, his little fuck toy. Joel would never dream of speaking to you like this any other way.

You just nod at him, feeling your second orgasm approach. Joel begins to thrust quicker into you, making you whine with each punch.

“Yeah, I can feel it, baby. Let go for me.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re coming around him, flooding his cock with your cum. The extra lubrication makes it even easier for him to slide in and out of you, and he takes full advantage of that, fucking your thorugh your orgasm at full speed.

“So damn tight n wet,” Joel grits out. “Poor pussy just can’t control ‘erself.”

“Mnm, she needs you, daddy,” you confirm, your eyes closed now as you rest on his shoulder again. Your legs are starting to ache, but you continue your movements as much as you can so Joel isn’t doing all the work, though you’re sure he wouldn’t mind too much.

His pace begins to falter and get more frantic as he gets closer to his own end.

“G-Gonna come on this little cunt,” he tells you through tight teeth. “Mark you all up n watch it drip off’a you.”

“Please, Joel, want your cum so bad.”

You can feel the way he pulses as he gets closer, watch the way he bites his plush bottom lip to contain himself.

He suddenly pulls you up hard, his cock falling out of you just in time to coat your pussy lips with his warm cum. He groans as he runs his tip just barely onto you, letting the sligh friction lengthen his high.

When he comes down, he places you gently back on his lap, his spent cock nestled between the two of you. You both breath heavily in a comfortable silence, and you almost fall asleep until you remember the wine.

“Wait, Joel–”

“It’s good room-temp too,” he says, his eyes cracked open just slightly. You scowl playfully at him, slapping his chest lightly.

“Or we could warm it back up. Jus’ sit here a minute, darlin. I’m too damn old for this shit.”

You giggle at him but comply, resting your head back on his chest. The wine will just have to wait.

****

Thank you for reading! lemme know If you wanna join the countdown taglist :)

FOTJC: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

WCC: @amyispxnk @melaninmommy @brittmb115 @mandoalorian @yorksgirl

Link to prompt list

#friends of the juice collective #pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #fluff #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction

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iridescent-petrichor · 1 year

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now i'm fallin' in faster

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: alcohol is consumed but it's pretty vague cause i don't know how to write drunk characters

Words: 3K

A/N: this is very loosely based on disaster by conan gray because I've been playing it on repeat all week thinking of jj so i hope yall like it !!!

It was a late night at the boneyard, where a party was in full swing.

You stood off to the side, rolling your eyes while Kie was in the middle of trying to convince you for the millionth time that JJ was deeply in love with you and that you had to ask him out right that instant. She’d had a few drinks and was a little more persuasive than she usually was.

Still, you continued to brush her off, eyeing the crowd around you while she nursed her drink.

“Y/N, I have known him my whole life. I am one hundred percent certain he’s in love with you!” She said, arms moving so enthusiastically that she almost spilled her beer onto the sand.

“Kie, he really isn’t.” While every part of you wanted to believe he really did like you, there was no way you’d let yourself get your hopes up only to have them crushed in the face of his rejection. “Plus, if I ask him out and he says no? That will destroy the group dynamic! I’ll never be able to show my face around him or any of you, and I refuse to be the reason that the pogues are forced to disband!”

“Except he’s not gonna say no!” Kie leaned closer to you, a wide smile on her face. She nudged you lightly, ignoring the glare you sent her way. “He really likes you, trust me.”

As the words leave her mouth, you look past her and see JJ Maybank himself.

He was leaning against a tree, drink in hand, talking to some touron that was batting her eyelashes at him.

You grimace, forcing yourself to look away just long enough to make disappointed eye contact with Kie.

It’s enough to make her turn, shoulders dropping sadly when she catches sight of him.

“Shit,” She muttered, giving you a pitied look that you tried to ignore.

You brushed it off, shaking your head and plastering on a smile.

“Hey, it’s fine.”

She doesn’t look the slightest bit convinced, so you keep talking.

“I was right at least.” You take a couple of steps away from her, already fishing your keys out of your pocket to flee the party scene.

Before you did, you quickly turned back to your friend, holding the keys up.

“You don’t need a ride home, right?” For emphasis, you dangled the car keys, but Kie shook her head.

“Nah, I got a ride tonight.”

You nod, forcing yourself to keep the smile on your face. Turning, you throw up a hand in a quick wave.

“Later Kie!”

You tried to ignore the feeling of bile in your throat as you trudged through the sand toward where you parked your car. While staying sober had made the night mind-numbingly boring, it gave you the opportunity to make a clean getaway before you had to talk to JJ and get your feelings hurt.

The whole drive home you kept the music on full blast, hoping that if it was loud enough it would keep your darker thoughts from invading your mind.

It only half worked.

Once you were finally home, you collapsed onto your bed with a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling while your thoughts went wild with every awkward thing you’d said and done since the party started.

Despite your reluctance, you forced yourself back up, climbing off the bed to peel off the uncomfortable clothes Kie convinced you to wear for the party. You did admit they made you look good, but in the dead of night when you were half awake, it didn’t feel very worth it.

Throwing on some soft pajamas, you curled back up in bed, pulling out your phone.

Like most nights, you found yourself hovering over JJ’s contact.

Usually, you would type out a long message detailing how in love with him you were, and then delete it like nothing ever happened. Now, however, you were eyeing the call button.

You knew he hadn’t gone home yet, and if you were to actually call him you doubt he’d even answer.

God, you just wanted to hear his voice.

The loneliest parts of you took control, and you let your eyes flutter closed for a second.

“Hello?” Your eyes shot open when you heard JJ’s voice on the other line, barely even registering the fact that you’d even pressed the call button.

Scrambling, you put the phone to your ear, cursing yourself internally as you stumbled towards an explanation.

“I’m so sorry,” You started, screwing your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“What’s up?” He asked. You could still hear the party going on around him, and you tried not to think about how he still picked up – and almost immediately, too.

“I’m just drunk,” The lie slips from your lips before you can really think about it. “I shouldn’t have called-”

“Y/N-” He tried to interrupt, but you were already rambling on.

“I just wanted to… um… chat?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to get your brain to start functioning.

JJ didn’t say anything for a while, and you swore you faintly heard John B asking him a question in the distance.

“I’m just, uh, I’m drunk,” You repeated, still unsure why you were lying about that. If you thought any harder you would remember that you told JJ you weren’t drinking tonight when he offered you a solo cup full of beer. “I’m just gonna let you go, I’m sorry for calling-”

“Hey,” He almost sounded frustrated, and the firm tone made you freeze up. “Chill, Y/N.”

You stayed deathly silent, barely remembering to breathe.

“I know you’re not drunk, I saw you ten minutes ago driving home. What’s actually up?” Shit. You didn’t think he actually saw you leaving.

You didn’t know what to say, opening and closing your mouth with no luck.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know.” JJ continued, his voice much softer now. “Why’d you call, sunshine?”

The nickname pulled something within your heart, and you were sure that if you were drunk, you would’ve told him everything in an instant.

“Just wanted to talk?” It came out almost like a question, and you could hear a car door opening and closing on the other line.

“What’d you wanna talk about?”

And so, the two of you spent the next few hours chatting about anything that came to your mind. JJ had moved into the Twinkie to get away from the noise, and you forced your eyes to stay open despite how exhausted you were, just to talk to him.

“Hey, maybe I’ll drop by tomorrow. I can bring food and we can watch some movies?” He said it in a way that made it sound like he was unsure you’d even say yes. The thought of him coming over alone made your heart beat just a little faster, despite how often it had happened at this point.

It was nights like these that you liked to pretend he could be yours. Deep down, you knew it was a fantasy that was far out of your reach, but with the way his voice was softer than anything, you couldn’t help the giddy smile pulling at your lips.

“That sounds nice.”

JJ chuckled, and you could finally hear him shifting from his spot on the floor of the Twinkie.

He only hung up when John B began piling into the car with Pope and Kie in tow, hurriedly telling you goodbye before you were sitting alone in the silence of your bedroom.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face no matter how hard you tried, keeping your phone tucked close to your chest as if it would float away.

You were definitely in too deep.

Slowly, you brought yourself back to reality, the darkness of your room reminding you that JJ was not in fact yours, and if he hadn’t been on the way to the Chateau right now, he’d be bringing home the nearest girl that gave him the time of day.

He wasn’t yours, and you had to get over that.

It was in the middle of your spiraling that your phone buzzed.

It was a text from JJ.

“Is noon tomorrow okay?”

You grinned, remembering he was coming over. He may have all the girls on the island wrapped around his finger, but you were the one he wanted to see outside of the parties and away from all the alcohol.

When another party rolled around, you weren’t surprised to see JJ not far off with a girl who you paled in comparison to.

You were already a little drunk, content in the knowledge that John B was driving you back to the Chateau with the rest of the pogues tonight.

JJ leaned closer to the girl, whispering something in her ear. She giggled, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, pushing through the party to get to the keg. You tried to squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head a couple of times to rid the image from your mind, but it proved persistent. It felt like the image of him leaning over her was burned in your memory now.

Finally, you made it to the keg, and a kid around your age offered to refill your cup for you.

So you did.

Then, you refilled it again. And again. And again.

It wasn’t until Pope was grabbing the drink out of your hand that you really realized how far you had gone.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” John B’s voice made you turn, not even noticing him standing beside Pope until he spoke.

Home, you knew, meant the Chateau. There was no way John B would drive you home to face your parents when you were this plastered.

With a faint nod, you let him guide you to the car. Pope followed, calling out to Kie to let her know they’d be back once they got you situated.

You were silent the whole car ride there, half asleep on Pope’s shoulder.

When you arrived, Pope opened the door for the two of you and walked you inside with John B trailing behind. He tossed you a pair of old sweatpants you left behind forever ago, and one of the guys’ t-shirts that was lying around, turning around while you changed.

Once they made sure you were situated, they left to make their way back to the party.

You sat alone in the guest room and pulled out your phone.

The confession you would type out to JJ became nearly a nightly ritual, so much so that even in your drunken state you were focused on typing out everything you were feeling for him.

You stared down at the essay of a text message, exhaling deeply before going to delete it.

It wasn’t until your finger slipped and you pressed send that you began to panic.

Leaping out of the bed, you gaped at the screen in disbelief, hoping against all odds that it wasn’t real.

“Shit,” You hissed, the panic sobering you up just a bit. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Not only did you officially ruin everything, but you were still drunk and JJ was gonna come back with the group at some point. On nights like these, you usually slept in the guest room with him, since neither of you minded sharing a bed.

Guess that’s out the window, now.

“Fuck!” You threw your phone onto the bed, covering your mouth with your hands.

This can’t be real.

A couple of seconds had barely passed before you were lunging for your phone again. It was like a trainwreck and you couldn’t look away.

You sat there, staring at the phone for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes.

Every minute that he didn’t respond, you thought of a new reason that your friendship was over forever.

Suddenly, a knock at the door to the guest room startled you out of your thoughts. You stared at it for a few seconds before hauling yourself out of the bed, swinging the door open a little too fast.

JJ stood before you, holding his phone up with an unreadable expression.

“Can we talk?”

Your heart plummeted to the floor, and you barely managed a nod before he was shoving his way into the room, shutting the door behind him a little too harshly for your comfort.

“So,” He took a careful seat at the edge of the bed, looking up at you. “What was that text about?”

You were definitely still too drunk to have this conversation. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest and your knees were a couple of seconds away from buckling completely.

When you didn’t say anything, JJ quickly stood back up, the intensity of his gaze making you forget to breathe for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” You started, breathless.

He stayed silent, awaiting your explanation. Part of you was waiting too, because how the hell were you gonna get out of this one alive?

“I’m just really drunk,” The look in his eyes made you falter, but you forced yourself to press on. “I was gonna just delete it after I typed it out like I usually do, but I pressed the wrong button-”

“Like you usually do?”

Shit.

“Uh, I mean,” You rubbed the back of your neck, firmly avoiding eye contact. “I- uh, forget I said that?”

JJ shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“Listen just please can we forget this ever happened?” The second you looked into his eyes you regretted it. The look he gave you was almost as heartbroken as you felt.

In your drunken state, you continued talking, not letting him get a word in. Part of you thought that if you kept talking forever he would never get the chance to reject you.

“I just, I had a lot to drink – ask Pope, he’ll tell you. I was just really lonely cause I was… well, alone… and you were the first person I thought of, and-”

“Hey-” He tried to interrupt, but you were still going strong.

“It was just stupid drunk rambling. I mean, I could barely stand, JJ-”

“Stop.” The firmness in his voice made you do as he said.

“I didn’t mean it.” You finished quietly, barely able to get the words out.

“Don’t lie to me,” He sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor. You didn’t think it was possible, but you swore your heart broke even more when he refused to look at you.

It wasn’t until he chuckled lightly that you realized he wasn’t upset. He shook his head, still staring at the floor, the grin on his face widening.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been in love with you?” His words made your heart skip a beat, and you stared up at him in awe.

“What?” You couldn’t help but ask, trying to make sure you didn’t imagine it.

“God,” He threw his head back, rolling his eyes playfully. “Don’t make me say it again.”

A smile made its way onto your face, and you risked a step closer to him. The action alone made JJ’s full attention fall back on you.

You could feel your heart beating fast out of your chest with the way he was looking at you. The glint in his eyes was enough to nearly knock you off your feet, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his even if you wanted to.

“Hey,” Lightly, he brought a hand up, resting it on your shoulder. “This is your turn to say something.”

Still, you stayed silent, barely registering the words coming out of his mouth. You were sure you were stuck in a dream and one wrong move would make you wake up to a world where you were alone again.

“Please say something.” He repeated, and you managed to snap yourself out of the daze you were in.

“I didn’t think…” You trailed off, not realizing you’d grabbed his hand, mindlessly fiddling with his fingers.

“Didn’t think what, pretty girl?” He was smirking now, fighting every urge not to just kiss you right there.

You brought your focus back to him, taking silent note of how much closer he’d gotten to you.

“I didn’t think you liked me back.”

Ever so gently, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours.

“I don’t remember using the word like, sunshine.” His voice was low, near a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear.

“I guess Kie was right then.” You grinned, your hands moving up to rest at his waist. “I should’ve asked you out much sooner.”

“You really should’ve.” He pulled you impossibly closer. “Would’ve saved so much time.”

“I was just scared.” You pulled back just enough to get a better look at him. “I mean, you’re so… you, and I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship because if I asked you out and you said no it would destroy the whole dynamic we have, and then the group would-”

Before you could finish your sentence, JJ’s lips were on yours.

Instinctively, your hands came up, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You felt him smile into the kiss before the two of you had to pull away for air.

“God, I can’t believe I can finally kiss you.” He muttered, now cupping your cheek with one hand.

With a light laugh, you buried your neck into his neck, letting yourself fall further into his embrace.

“Me too.”

And in the quiet moment, you forgot about the pogues that were surely piled on the couch down the hall. The only thing you could think of was how JJ’s arms were around you, his thumb gently rubbing up and down at your waist.

You were definitely in too deep.

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader

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strawwritesfic · 2 years

Text

Legolas x Female!Elf!Reader: Adore

Summary: Gimli had better just get used to the fact that he’ll never understand Legolas completely.

Rating/Tags: All (Gimli & Legolas; post-Return of the King; Mirkwood Elven Guard!Reader; some lingering Dwarves vs. Elves tension; pipe smoking)

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Adore

Good was finally ending one long, uncertain journey to start another with a certain end. Better was a journey of companionship and seeing sights one could not rest for on the first. Better yet was being an honored guest in your companion’s home where your kin had once been prisoners and little else. Still, Gimli felt, one could grow tired of elves–and dwarves could grow tired of them more quickly than anyone, warm welcome or no. Better than all the rest was quiet, stars peeking through the Mirkwood trees, and a chance to get at his pipe.

Legolas’s feast would continue on for many hours more. No one could celebrate like his people. For all Gimli knew, he could rest for the next night and day and wake to continued revelry. There would be time enough for him to return.

Gimli settled himself comfortably against the base a wide tree trunk to smoke at his leisure. He took his first breath in of sweet-smelling smoke and was in the process of blowing it in rings toward the leaves above his head when a slender figure stepped silently past him into the nearby clearing. Eyeing the figure's back, Gimli wondered if Legolas realized that he was there. The sound of singing continued in the distance behind them, but Legolas’s back was to the celebration, his head turned up to watch the sky.

Five minutes of that, and Gimli decided he had had more than enough. Patient dwarves might have been, but friends had no need to be patient with the sudden oddities of a friend. He cleared his throat.

“Do you plan to join me, or do you intend to stand there like an Ent for the rest of the night?” Gimli asked.

Legolas made no sign that he had heard.

Snorting, Gimli put his pipe back in his mouth. Now that he thought about it, this behavior of Legolas’s was nothing new. They had left Gimli’s family in high spirits, but as the road wound on toward Mirkwood, Legolas grew more and more introspective. The silent rides atop their horse had nearly driven Gimli to insanity, but he had hoped that coming home would lift his friend’s spirits. Clearly nothing had happened except to make Legolas seem less communicative than ever.

Gimli ran a hand down his beard. Perhaps going back to the food would not be so bad. It would save him sitting there worrying fruitlessly over Legolas.

Just as Gimli made to put out his pipe, Legolas turned, stepping again toward the feast. Then his eyes fell on Gimli. Gimli blinked once at him. Whatever Legolas was thinking about, he did not want to share it with him. The elf blinked back, and his lips pulled up into a vague smile. He changed direction and soon was close enough for Gimli to touch.

“I had not realized you had left the celebration already,” Legolas said.

Gimli only squinted in reply. Was Legolas so truly out of sorts that he had missed Gimli entirely? Had Gimli been more familiar with any elf other than this one, he might have spoken with one of those here of his concern. As it was, all he could assume was that this was normal behavior for an elf and that coming home had turned Legolas more normal somehow.

“Aye,” Gimli answered gruffly. “I had thought my greeting five minutes past would have been enough warning for you, but I suppose you might have got into a bit of that Elvish wine.”

To his great surprise, the wan smile on Legolas’ face faded further. His eyes turned again to the stars. “Forgive me, my friend. My thoughts are elsewhere.”

This did not entirely discount Gimli’s suggestion that Legolas was simply drunk. Really, though, that would not explain Legolas’s silence over the many miles. Wherever his thoughts were still, Gimli was not wanted.

“Blasted elf,” he grumbled, though there was some good-nature in his tone, for at least Legolas was sorry. Mirkwood had not reclaimed him so much that they were no longer friends. “How about you tell me where your thoughts have been for the past fortnight? Perhaps that will make me more inclined to forgive you.”

“The past fortnight?” Legolas repeated. Gimli was pleased to see that this had at least got Legolas’s attention back to present. Legolas blinked again, then he let out a small sigh. “My thoughts are ever elsewhere, I suppose.”

“That is not an answer, of which you are well aware.”

“I am.” Another sigh. Though Gimli would not admit it, his attention was piqued. In all their time of knowing each other, Legolas had never acted in such a manner. “I am sorry, Gimli. I have been worried about returning here for so long that I did not realize that you had noticed my concern.”

“Concern about what? Either tell me or do not. So long as I can rest this evening knowing you will be leaving this place with me in due time, so much the better.”

Legolas’s smile turned sad. He did not look away this time, yet Gimli felt somehow that Legolas was no longer looking at him but rather through him.

“What good does it do to dwell on that which will not be?” Legolas asked. “It only makes the absence that much more apparent, speaking of it more so to those who were otherwise ignorant of the absence to begin with.”

“The absence of what, pray tell?”

It rankled, Gimli realized, knowing that Legolas wanted to keep secrets even after all this time. There had been no holding back during their visit to Gimli’s family. Legolas had been treated just as a dwarf, a dwarf prince even. Gimli had been treated well by Legolas' family, too, but he hardly cared about the niceties of elves when there was only one elf he truly cared about remaining in Middle Earth.

“Spit it out, Legolas! Have we not been together long enough to speak frankly to one another?” he said.

“I do not mean to keep you in the dark. It is only that I received bad tidings from my father this night. I fear that coming home might have done me more harm than good. There is but one thing I hoped for on the way here, and now I know there is no chance of it happening.”

“You are more difficult to interrogate than an orc!” Gimli bemoaned. He threw up his hands in defeat. A long night of singing it was. “Keep your secrets, Legolas. I need them not. I only hope that you will be back to your old self by the time we make ready to leave.”

Legolas smiled a bit more sincerely at that. “I do not intend to speak in riddles, Gimli. It is only that–”

A snapping branch interrupted him.

Gimli’s hand went straight to the ax at his hip, but Legolas was even faster, his bow strung and arrow drawn before the sound came again, louder and faster. There were still elves close by, but this was closer, and not everything in Mirkwood could have been fixed by Frodo and Gollum’s deed.

Gimli could hear Legolas breathing in the dark; his own breath sounded too loud in his ears. They stood together like that for several minutes, ears straining as the snapping condensed into swift footsteps. A straggler rushing to the party?

No. Just when Gimli thought that danger might be upon them, a young woman burst into their clearing. She was so out of breath, so obviously exhausted, that it took him half a minute to realize that she was an elf. Thankfully, it took him less time to understand the look Legolas gave her–and therefore the whole of Legolas’s behavior this night and those before. The bow fell immediately to Legolas side, and there was something in his gaze that Gimli had never seen before.

“[Name],” Legolas breathed.

There were many odd things about this elf. Never had Gimli seen one so tired, not even Legolas after taking down an Oliphant. Stranger than this, however, was your reaction to Legolas. Your eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but at the same time, you lifted one hand to your mouth.

“Legolas?” you asked.

Legolas joined you in a single bound, leaving Gimli to stand on his own once more. This time, Gimli did not feel the faint burning of frustration in his veins. No, this time Gimli felt nothing but amused. He hid a smile in his beard as he leaned back against his tree. He had not been sent away, after all, and this was something he most certainly wanted to see.

“My father told me that you were away on patrol, too far away to get here in any short time,” Legolas said in a soft voice.

You stood just a little away, as though frozen to the spot. When Legolas continued to look at you expectantly, you looked down for one moment before looking back up at him.

“I was,” you admitted, then: “I am. They told me you were here, and I…ran.”

That much, Gimli felt, was obvious.

Perhaps Legolas did not feel it was so, because he lifted a hand to gently cup the side of your face. “You’re warm."

“I ran as swiftly as I could.”

Legolas let out a soft laugh.

Laugh? To think that all this time, Legolas was mooning over some woman in the forest. Gimli did not know whether to be annoyed or entertained. Both, he decided in short order--short enough order, in fact, that you and Legolas were still busy staring at each other in the dim starlight by the time Gimli had come to his conclusion.

“Does my father know you’re here?” Legolas asked.

“No, and there are so few of us left to look after the border. I should not have left, but–I had to see you.”

Legolas beamed.

What could Gimli do but clear his throat? Much more of this presentation and he was likely to fall ill. Thranduil would not take that kindly, he was sure.

The two of you practically leaped apart at Gimli’s interruption, though to both your credits, each of you recovered quickly enough. The familiar crease of the brow that appeared whenever Gimli first met an elf appeared on yours as well. This smoothed away as Legolas stepped over to him. Gimli suspected shock, as was common when anyone came to know if his and Legolas' companionship.

“[Name]," Legolas said, placing a light hand on Gimli's shoulder, "this is Gimli, son of Glóin. He is my closest friend, and it is to him that any thanks are owed for my safe return.”

Frowning, you looked first at Gimli, then slowly returned your gaze to Legolas’ face. Gimli expected it to stay there, but soon you were looking at him again. Then you inclined your head toward him. “Thank you, Gimli. For keeping him safe when I could not follow to do so.”

“My pleasure, Lady [Name], and it is a further pleasure to know of your existence.”

It was Gimli’s turn to grin. His doing so made Legolas smile as well. It was a nice change from the consistent frown he had worn of late. You simply threw Legolas an appraising look and came nearer to take his hand.

“He needs looking after, this one. I appreciate any help that you are willing to give,” Gimli added.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Legolas beat you to it. Unsurprisingly, his attention was elsewhere once more: “You said my father does not know that you are here,” he said, leaning closer to your face. “If you were to join us, he would know for sure. I would hate to subject you to his displeasure, and yet…”

Gimli could tell Legolas wanted to leave his welcoming party. Well, it was not as though Gimli could not sympathize. He hated to be left alone with Legolas’s friends and family, but this seemed a more important reason to run off.

With a shake of his head, Gimli waved you and Legolas toward the deeper recesses of the forest. “Go on. I shall make your excuses for you.”

There was the briefest return of Legolas’ smile. “Thank you, Gimli.”

You two did not wait for him to wave you away a second time. Gimli watched until you disappeared into the tree boughs across the way. As he turned back to the feast behind, it was with a considerable weight gone from his shoulders. Legolas would be fine. Furthermore, if–and Gimli certainly hoped it so–you joined them as they headed onward toward the sea, maybe you would prove better at conversation than Legolas had proved to be.

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onboardsorasora · 5 months

Note

I was re reading that Drabble of Maxiel’s Baby and I don’t about you but I think Noah should have a sibiling hahaha

Oh Bestie you just know the words to derail my brain don't you?? Of course I couldn't just....not think about it lol I banged this one out, I have not reread it so I hope its ok lmao

This is set in the universe of this birthday party and this drabble

Daniel had giggled when he pressed ‘post’ on the photoset, the picture of him napping front and centre. He hadn’t been joking when he said Vegas was exhausting– the completely odd hours, the long wait during free practices. It had been a lot of events crammed into a very short space of time.

Daniel had just thought he was being old and cranky with how tired he was. He’d declined every invite to go party, kissed Max’s pouting lips and sagged with relief in their hotel suite. It wasn’t until he saw the videos of Lewis and Fernando having a blast that he thought maybe he shouldn’t have been as tired as he was.

It didn’t too matter– he’d been delirious that one Friday and when Pyry had suggested power naps to combat the exhaustion, Daniel had happily closed his eyes and slipped his head on Blake’s unwilling shoulder.

Now as the fireworks went off in Abu Dhabi to usher in the end of the season, Daniel idly knew Max was on his way from one media pen to another– doing double duty as race winner and champ. Daniel would wait for him in their room. Once he finished his commitments here at the track, he’d collect Noah from Geri (no doubt his presence was already triggering the ole ‘we should have another’ conversation between the Horners). And then they would go to take a nap in the big bed while they waited for Papa.

Or that would be the plan, if he could ever stop puking his intestines up.

He’d been in there for just under fifteen minutes already. Because that's about as long as the fireworks show in AD normally lasts. Blake was outside the door, he’d knocked a few times and Daniel had answered with groans. He knew if he didn’t answer with human words soon, Blake was going to call Max.

When he felt vaguely human again– this took give or take another ten minutes– Daniel flushed the toilet and rinsed his mouth out in the sink. He felt rung out, even more dehydrated than at the end of the race. His face was pale and splotchy, yeah he looked sick as fuck. There would be no hiding it.

With a shaking hand, he unlocked the door. Blake stood by, along with Pyry and Franz. The three of them looked alarmed at his pallor. There was a flurry of movement and before Daniel knew it, he was in his driver’s room and a nurse was taking his blood pressure.

“Guys, I’m fine. Probably like just a bit dehydrated or something.” Daniel mumbled, they were being complete mother hens and they needed to quit before someone got the dumb idea of pulling Max from his media commitments.

“Nah mate, this is more than just dehydration.” Blake mumbled, he looked as worried as when Daniel had broken his hand. Of course, this wasn’t anything like that.

“You’ve been really tired lately–” Pyry started.

“Yeah– Vegas was shit. Everyone was tired.” Daniel cut in.

“But you were like….way more tired.” Blake mumbled, Daniel rolled his eyes. “Danny, you were napping everywhere. Like literally everyone has pictures of you sleeping. It's like ‘where's lando’ all over again.” Blake threw his arms up in exasperation.

“I’m fine.” Daniel insisted. “Maybe my iron’s low or something.”

They all bickered (much to Franz’s amusement) and pretty much ignored the nurse as she jotted down his vitals and then started scrolling through an ipad.

“Daniel, you gave your updated blood sample this weekend, correct?” The nurse asked and Daniel nodded, eyes wide from being cut off from whatever childish retort he was going to give Blake. He had stopped by the medical bay Thursday morning like they had asked. He’d given a new sample in Austin, when they cleared him to race. But in Vegas, Blake had received an email asking for a new sample. They didn’t think anything of it, this happened all the time.

The nurse scrolled on her ipad again and bit her lip, before looking at all the people in the room staring back at her.

“Was there something wrong with that sample too?” Daniel asked, trying to lead her into telling them what she found. Her reaction wasn’t good. It wasn't bad but it wasn't good either.

“Uhm, maybe some privacy?” She asked, her voice tight.

“No it's fine” he sighed, they’d all hear about it– whatever it is. Blake was his manager, Pyry was his interim trainer. Franz was his boss, well ex boss. All people who needed to know details about his health and wellbeing.

“Well, um.” She bit her lip and seemed very uncomfortable. Daniel sighed, preparing for the worst. “Congratulations? You're pregnant.” the nurse winced awkwardly. Daniel’s eyes widened comically. Blake’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh shit!”

All eyes turned to the door to see Max’s surprised form with his arm up poised to knock on the door. His wide blue eyes found Daniel’s and the largest grin cracked open his face. Franz clapped Max on the shoulder and ushered the poor nurse out of the room. Pyry shuffled Blake out and closed the door behind them.

“Noah’s gonna be a big brother?” Max whispered and Daniel smiled wetly. Max sat on the couch beside him and collected Daniel into his arms.

“I’m pregnant?” Daniel whispered in awe as bits and pieces of the last few weeks started to make sense. “I guess I should lay off the red bulls for now, huh?”

“Yeah. We, of course, don’t want the baby coming out with fucking wings as advertised.” Max giggled and Daniel snorted into his shoulder. Daniel clung to him a bit longer before easing back and staring into wet blue eyes.

“You’re gonna be a Papa again.”

Max surged forward and kissed him. He was so happy.

Of course, this changed a lot of things. There were many contracts that now needed to be broken, many clauses rewritten. A new baby changed so many things. But that was for the future; the Max and Daniel of tomorrow.

For now, they were going to bask in the knowledge that they were expecting. Then they would go into the garage where, no doubt, all of Alpha Tauri already know– because Franz was a huge gossip queen. And then after accepting all of their congratulations, they would go to the Red Bull garage where, of course, Helmut has already told Christian and all the guys there because Hemult was nothing if not Franz’s partner in crime.

Tonight they will enjoy it. They will take their son home and cuddle him in bed. Tomorrow they can start the planning.

#like always I have no clue where I was going with this lmao #I hope its good anon. If it isn't we can pretend it never happend!!#maxiel #max/daniel #my ficlet #mpreg #I might need to name this au lol #answered #anonymous #maxiel parents #noah au

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sadevergreen · 9 months

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as a camp counselor (technically not currently bc i went home for Illness) and homestuck fan (also technically not currently bc I'm too busy being a camp counselor) i love camp skaia. which homestuck characters are most likely to be the "we're ALL sick there's no reason you can't do the hike up the hill" (has mild cold and vague heatsickness at worst) counselor x "actual lung infection but thinks it's a really normal cold" (very easily gaslit) counselor program group pair? i feel like eridan and kanaya are hot contenders here

ooo ok this is so good- apologies for the ever loving hell that you are about to see but i sought assistance from my dear dear pale friend @marv3l-drag0ns !!!!!!!! MUAH PLATONICALLLY <> ILY they were a huge help in putting this together

BOY DO I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ON THIS, THIS WAS EXTREMELY FUN :D

so let’s begin: my immediate instinct was kanaya and tavros are the most easily gaslit, or adhere most to given direction (we’re not going to talk about HIM). but then who to pair them with? they are both wet cats that won’t work. we decided that YES kanaya and eridan definitely make sense! but in which role? it may seem obvious but NO! eridan too sick? whiny fussy pitiful sopping kitty he’s just a beanbag full of milk! so we decided barely sick eridan, otherwise he’d be throwing a fit. instead he’s referring to his Superior Genes! and kanaya is. strugglin. but fuck man here we are 🤷‍♂️

But we’re not done yet!

the next we considered was karkat and terezi!! especially aided through the lens of karkat’s old crush on terezi; he’s too whipped and in denial to deny a girl a hand!

this led to possibly the funniest thing ever: THE INNER KANKRI THAT EVERYONE HAS AND HE SITS ON YOUR SHOULDER AND REMINDS YOU TO BE DECENT AND LEAVE ROOM FOR KANKRI

for the bigger drawings i capped it off with a good ol favorite of mine; erifef. why did i like them? man idek anymore but it worked really well with the idea of eridan being the sicker one, but being ok such thin ice over his constant whining that he just has to go along with it we just though it was funny hehe. it can be viewed through any lens! snippy or non, s’all good here! it’s all canon.

what is he was sick and he couldn’t whine 🥺 what is he was sick and he wasn’t allowed even a snivle about it 🥺 not a snort 🥺 or a sob 🥺 he’s so pathetic !!!! besides, he can’t be out paced by some fuckin kids!!!! HES A GROWN ADULT 16-18 Y/O CAMP COUNSELOR GODDAMNIT!!

MARVEL: “Feferi: ah yes your sickness you have a functioning immune system and are the most dramatic guy on planet earth (only one of those statements is true)” which statement? :) yeah

she doesn’t believe him anymore <333

Ok and that is it for full line art doodles, but!!! i couldn’t resist drawing some more pairs we pondered

ERIDAN AND KARKAT: omfg so good!! but they would 100% either both be tooooo sick and dead, or they would both be mostly fine

VRISKA AND TAVROS: no. and you know why we’re not doing this one :,( we all instantly knew this one would be here but we are choosing to ignore it im favor of…

TAVROS AND KARKAT: Marvel proposed it and it was very interesting!! i think similar to eridan and karkat, where they’re both dead or both barely sick. no i’m between. aggressive yet positive motivation (?) for the win!!! they further proposed that karkat “eats dirt for a living and doesn’t get sick very often”

Overall this was really fun to put together and answer, and i had a blast getting to colab with a mutual along the way :3 so thank you anon and thank you marvel!! this does bring me to something i’ve been meaning to say,,.,,,

@marv3l-drag0ns ,,? we’ve been friends forever, you know my dogs middle name, we complete each other in a way no one else can! you stop me from eating bones i find on the road, and i stop you from ascending to godtier to avoid going to exams…,…

would you be my

Moirail? <>

anyways! that’s all for now <3 this was so fun :) please send in more asks/ requests like this if you ever think of any more! i definitely feel for the camp counselor piece cause that was me earlier this summer PFF and all the counselors got sick and passed something around (but hey! it was an excuse to sit away from 7 y/olds for a few minutes while i got tea for my sore throat)

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deadlysoupy · 7 months

Text

Watching Paint Dry

Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Bumblebee & Starscream (Transformers), Bumblebee/Starscream (Transformers) Tags: Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends, Forced Proximity, Autobot/Decepticon Cross-Faction Friendship, Autobot/Decepticon Cross-Faction Romantic Relationship Series: Part 3 of I can tell just what you want (you don't want to be alone)

"Bumblebee, get in here! It's urgent! Um... Jawbreaker is stuck in a pipe!"

Mo stifles a laugh as she runs into the Dugout, changing walkie-talkie's channel to local.

"He's coming! Is Starscream in yet?"

"Oh, he's so in," Hashtag answers, static in the background from a bad connection. "They'll be best friends after this, I guarantee it! The TV cannot be wrong!"

For @trashhole

Read on AO3 or under Read More:

There is no emergency at the Dugout, Bumblebee realises way too late. When he runs into the room his optics land on a frowning Starscream, servo on his tilted hip in irritation. And not a Terran in sight.

“Sorry, Bee!” he turns around to a not-very-guilty Mo punching the button on a remote – and the door separates him and the rest of the family, to leave with a maniac of a mech.

Bumblebee should have known better when it comes to kids. It’s just like them to force anyone they wish to try talking it out – even if no one wants to.

He can’t blame them, exactly, but he will make sure they know he won’t let it slide that easily, too.

“Of course they would trap us together. How typical of them. You let them watch too much TV, Bumblebee, it’s rotting their brain circuitry.”

Bumblebee dreads the next hours of shutdown.

“It’s not their fault you can’t work with us for a change instead of being a complete aft.”

“And now it’s my fault? Why am I not surprised?” Starscream turns away with panache to watch the clock count down one second at a time. “At least pretend to not be a jerk. It can help, you know.”

“I don’t see how it would. Compared to my glorious self, you look like you could use a talking-down now and again.”

He arches a brow. “Was that a height joke?”

“What do you think?” a predatory smile makes its way on Starscream’s face and Bumblebee can barely hold his gun to not blast it away. Instead, he sighs.

“You know what? Fine,” he shrugs. Making his way to the control panel, Bee spots a relatively peaceful spot on the ground to spend the next two hours on. Starscream’s gaze darts between the tightly closed door and the countdown illuminating the room.

Propping an arm on his knee, Bumblebee keeps his optics to the ground as Starscream sits a few feet from him. Time doesn’t seem to pass when he checks the countdown on his internal clock synced with the Dugout.

Of all the mechs to be stuck with. Of all the mechs to befriend – or be befriended by, more like – the Terrans, it just had to be Starscream.

Starscream, who offlined an Autobot right in front of him, only to laugh at his face afterwards and boast about his great achievement to Megatron. Starscream, who held a gun to his spark to bargain with Optimus Prime. Starscream, who loomed over the skies on the lookout for non-affiliated Cybertronians, who only search for a way to survive in a world where you either have to be a killer, or be killed.

He is vaguely aware of the dent in his palm from his clenched fist.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Starscream’s sharp voice cuts through the silence. Bee pats himself on the back for not flinching. "I'm a vicious Decepticon bent on destroying everyone I set my eyes on. And you would be right, of course," he dismissively shugs.

When the rest doesn't come, Bumblebee is forced to walk into Starscream’s carefully set up trap. "There is a "but" coming, right?"

"But I don't do it senselessly, my dear Autobot. Picture this: your people see you as nothing more than a scheming rodent, someone below them and their superior rule. It’s nearly impossible to earn respect amongst those monsters."

And Bumblebee definitely sees something there. For more cycles than he can count, Bumblebee had been viewed as a bot who needed to be supervised, not to be trusted with important missions. Or missions Bumblebee at the time considered important, anyway. It’s why he still feels echoes of the times long gone, when the need to prove his worth overrides his brain to the point of recklessness.

He’s no Decepticon, though.

“That’s no excuse. Don’t justify your actions and twist them into survival. There’s always a way.”

Starscream snicker is not kind. “And who taught you that? The Terrans? Who have seen no war?” his frame turns to face Bumblebee, one servo pressed to the ground for balance. “You know what was at stake. I don’t regret my decisions even for a nano-second, but if you think that I didn’t at least try to find a better way, then you’re just as stupid as the rest of them.”

The silence that follows has Bumblebee in a chokehold. His gaze travels on Starscream, analysing his drive to make sense of his crimes, of his killings, of his betrayals.

“I’ve said too much. Enjoy the rest of these painful hours in silence, little Autobot, and we’ll see who comes out the same when it’s done.”

Sympathy does not come easily these days – and Starscream makes it that much harder.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers earthspark #earthspark #earthspark bumblebee #earthspark starscream #starbee #bumblebee #starscream #transformers fanfiction #my writing

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strawberryfairi · 4 months

Text

Synopsis✨: The story of how you catch heavy feelings for the hot photography student, Shuji Hanma…even though you already have the perfect (fake) boyfriend.

Pairings: Photography Student! Shuji Hanma X Dance Major! Black Fem 🤎 Reader (ANYONE CAN READ🧚🏾‍♀️) Content: Drama, angst, sneaking link, lots of cheating, some dark moments, unserious Shuji, controlling parents, forced relationships, romance, fighting, porn with a good plot vibes, intense sexual tension, etc (just find out the rest lol)

w.c: 4.4k💠 Released: Jan 5, 2024

Previous | Next Chapters Masterlist

2; NO FILTER 无滤镜

By the time you made it to the party, it had already been going on for an hour and a half. You were so over it at this point. You'd forgotten to even change out of your outfit when you got to the dorm so you're standing out front of this party in straight up sweatpants over your dance costume and basic all white air forces. At least you were serving face with your makeup look.

The music is blasting, and there's folks all over both outside and inside. The frat house is huge, a popular spot seeing as the parties here are always the best...and the wildest. There's always plenty of juicy stories after a night at the frat house.

When you walk inside you immediately start looking around for familiar faces. It was jam packed, making you slightly scrunch your face as you weave through the multitude of people. You searched around the first floor, looking through the dance floor in the living room, the halls where mostly people were kissing or whatever, then you finally find Ken in the kitchen area.

You abruptly stop, just as you were about to call out to him, noticing him and a few other guys from the team all being crowded around by a bunch of girls. Mostly cheerleader girls and their groupie friends to be exact.

Ken had one hand leaning on the counter next to some girl, basically caging her in as the other hand poured some Vodka into her mouth, cheering her on along with everyone else. Your heart dropped, face heating up rapidly as a mix of confusion, anger, and embarrassment seeped through you. What the hell was going on here?!

It also doesn't go unnoticed that some of the other guys on the team definitely have their arms around the waists of girls that were not their girlfriends.

Then after she finishes downing what he poured, she leans her head back upright, then randomly pulls him into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. You gasp eyes going wide. You're only frozen for a few seconds before you storm fully into the kitchen. In your opinion it took Ken a little too long to finally come to his senses, pulling away from the kiss with his eyes widened in shock just as he sees you coming over angrily.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" You yell, pushing past everyone to stand directly in front of the two.

"Oh shit..." He mumbles under his breath.

"Hello?! Why's it quiet now?! I just asked you a question!" You outburst, snapping your fingers in front of their faces. This girl was vaguely familiar to you, but your mind was really in no condition to try and figure out where right now. She was a brunette, long haired girl with a butterfly tattoo sat right between her breasts. Of course she wore the perfect top to show it off.

"You didn't answer any of my texts. I thought you weren't even here." He says randomly. What the hell does that have to do with a whole other ass chick's lips on him?!

"I was still at the stadium before you left me. Why didn't you wait for me like you said?" You grit out.

Awkwardly, the girl slips her way passed the two of you, going over to where everyone else had also awkwardly migrated to. "The guys were rushing me, I didn't wanna hold them up-

"So you leave your girlfriend instead?! I had to walk all the way back to the dorms then Uber here, Ken! You were supposed to be my ride!" You rant.

"Hey hey, lower your damn voice." He narrows his eyes, tone actually having the audacity to be stern.

"Who-I know you ain't talkin' to me like I'm some child! Lower my voice?!" You scrunch your face up, only becoming angrier by the second.

"First of all, you left me when you said you were gonna wait, then I finally get here and I catch your sorry ass with some other girl all over you?! Kissing you?! Who the fuck even are you?! What happened in the last hour I've been away?! Like, what did I miss; enlighten me please!" You rant, throwing your hands up in frustration. At this point there was a good chunk of people just watching what was going on, whispers and murmurs started sparking up in the vicinity.

Ken clenches his jaw in annoyance, pissing you off yet again.

"I'm sorry, alright?! I'm a little crossed right now, and I didn't expect her to do something like that." He argues.

"Ohhhh ok, right right. So, we're just a little crossed and didn't expect her to do that. My thing is, why was she even that close to you in the first place? What are you pouring Vodka into her mouth for?" Your tone is blade sharp as you throw question after question his way.

You weren't necessarily yelling anymore but you were clearly seeing red. You swear Ken must've lost his mind in the last hour, because this is so unlike him. It's like he's completely forgotten who both of your parents were, like he forgot if they find out about something like this both of your careers could be over before they even start.

"Babe, babe, I apologized already. What else do you want me to do?! I didn't know she was gonna kiss me!" He argues, throwing his hands up exasperatedly.

"How 'bout not put yourself in a position to even have something like that happen! This don't even make no sense, Ken! You just straight up let her kiss you, like, I watched you hesitate! Had I not come over here would you have even stopped?!" Your eyes start to well up with tears, voice shaking slightly as you try to maintain your angry demeanor.

You hated that he wasn't even trying to comfort or reassure you or anything. He has the nerve to just try to brush it under the rug like it wasn't that big of a deal. You knew for a full fact had this been the other way around he'd probably have caused the loudest riot, and your parents would for sure find out.

He doesn't say a word, just watches you as you try to keep your composure together. No 'let me fix this, babe', no nothing. Sure the two of you are a fake couple with no real feelings of love towards each other, but he could at least act like he cares that you're upset. You sure would. Then to make matters worse, if rumors about this starts to spread, your mom will definitely hear about it.

"Tch." You push passed him and quickly head out of the kitchen, avoiding looking at everyone staring as you storm out.

Embarrassed couldn't even begin to cover how you felt right now. You couldn't believe he disrespected you and the relationship like this, and then went as far as to give that half-assed apology as if that was acceptable! He could've at least tried to come after you when you walked out of the kitchen! You sniffle, trying to calm yourself down as you figure out somewhere fairly secluded to go.

You're back in the living room dance floor area now, the most crowded part of the whole house. You've been to enough parties here to know all of the avoid spots. The living room: where everyone comes to dance as the DJ set is there, the basement: x activities that shall not be named, the balcony upstairs: all the potheads love it there, the bathrooms: illegal drugs...that's all that needs to be said, and the bedroom: other x activities that shall not be named. Even though that seemed like the entire house, there were a few spots left you could go.

Weaving through the multitude of people, you stay close to the wall, heading through the living room and straight out of the sliding glass door. This frat house, as stated before, is very huge, big enough to have a large pool area outside that you can get to from the living room's sliding glass door.

You quickly speed walk to the poolside area, then plop yourself down on one of the pool chairs just as the tears started flowing down your cheeks.

You had fought so hard to keep your makeup looking nice, trying not to cry, but it just seemed like tears were inevitable tonight. Using the sleeve of your costume you gently dab your face, not wanting anything to smear so you don't end up giving the Joker from Batman.

You take a deep breath, exhaling through your nose as you lay back against the pool chair, looking up at the stars somberly. What has this night come to? Everything was so great, then it just...wasn't. Maybe losing your moms gift to you was a sign, 'cause right after that things took a hard left turn.

You felt like you only had a brief moment to even take in your huge accomplishment, now it's like you didn't even do it. This was supposed to be your celebration, your big night with Ken.

We'll see each other tonight, baby. We'll have the whole night actually....

"Liar..." You whisper to yourself bitterly, closing your eyes as you let out an exasperated sigh, feeling completely drained of energy at this point. Oddly enough the sound of the muffled music coming from inside was starting to become almost soothing, mixing harmoniously with the sounds of crickets and echoed conversations. You could actually fall asleep to this...

"You get lost or somethin'? The party's inside."

You jump with a loud yelp, almost falling out of the pool chair as a deep, male voice cuts into the silence. You look around frantically before your eyes fall on some random dude laying in one of the pool chairs to the left of you. He was about four chairs away from you, fully laid out with a cigarette between his fingers, one eye open as he looks over at you lazily. He was dressed pretty basic for a party, nothing but a white v-neck top and jeans. But who were you to talk though...

"Who-who-?! You're sayin' am I lost like you're not out here also." You narrow your eyes, looking him over with a scrutinizing gaze.

Now who the hell is this dude talkin' to?! You weren't really sure since you had your eyes closed earlier, but you figured you were definitely out here first.

"Got me there." He murmurs with a shrug, then pauses before speaking again. "You that dancer girl? The one with the anklet?" He asks slowly, before taking a fairly long drag from his cigarette.

"Wait, the anklet? You seen my anklet?!" At this you sit up completely, eyes wide as you impatiently wait for his answer. He opens both of his eyes finally, then reaches into his left back pocket, taking out your gold anklet. You gasp like a fish out of water, jumping up to your feet and practically running over to him.

"Oh my god! I was looking all over for this! How'd you find it?!" You ramble excitedly. You probably looked like a happy golden retriever with the way you're demeanor completely lit up.

"I didn't. I caught it when it flew off your ankle. Woulda hit me in the face if I didn't catch it." He says with a slight grin, chuckling at the memory of being attacked by your jewelry.

"You caught it?! Is it broken?! Lemme see it!"

He hands you your anklet, letting you observe it and check the clasp. Everything seemed fine with it, but you made a mental note to maybe take it in to a jeweler to get it checked out sometime just in case. "Well, thank you for..catching it." You chuckle lightly, sitting down on the pool chair next to him so you could hook it back around your ankle, this time making sure it was done right.

"'S nothin'. What's your name?"

You tell him your name just as you finish clasping your anklet. "Pretty. I'm Shuji Hanma." He says coolly, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Thanks." You say with an uncharacteristically bashful laugh. Before you hadn't really been paying too much attention to what this guy looks like, but now that you were sitting up closer, you could really look at him.

Long story short, Hanma's gorgeous, with those honey brown eyes and that deep, sensual voice. He has a single gold earring in his left ear, a unique drop design. He looks pretty tall, yet he's also very muscular, maybe a basketball player you think.

Your eyes trail over to his large veiny hands, with tattoos of some sort of Chinese writing on the back of them, and his long, slender fingers. His hair is fairly short, black, and tussled messily to perfection with blonde highlights in the front that hangs slightly over his eyes. Your face instantly began to heat up as your eyes selfishly continued to drink him in.

You don't smoke, but there's something about the way he's so casually taking those drags, something about his full, pink lips and the way they blow the smoke into the air. He's so effortlessly sexy, and from the way he seems to carry himself, he must know it too.

"Havin' a good time over there eye fuckin' me?" He asks smugly, a small smirk making it's way across his perfect lips as he takes a drag.

"I-I wasn't eye-fucking you!" You stammer, voice unnaturally higher pitched as your face completely set on fire, embarrassed that he caught you staring.

"No? Just thinkin' in my direction or somethin'?" He teases, blowing smoke in front of him as he looks at you with his head tilted inquisitively. You purse your lips in a frown, unsure of a good comeback, only furthering your embarrassment. He let's out a breathy chuckle, shoulders shaking just slightly.

"Doesn't bother me, doll, you can fuck me with those pretty eyes all you want. It's better in real life though." He shrugs plainly, full on smirking.

Your jaw hits the floor dumbstruck, blinking multiple times as you process what he just said. Nobody has ever talked to you like this before, especially not someone you've just met. It's so bold and nonchalant...and sexy. "Again, I wasn't eye-fucking you. I was just...lookin' at your tattoos." You lie, well, it was partially true.

"Oh yeah? You like 'em?" He asks with a particularly seductive dip in his tone, looking you straight in the eyes. His gaze is so intense you couldn't help but look away, too fearful you'd be sucked in and swallowed whole if you looked any longer.

"Well yeah. I don't know what they mean though." You shrug plainly, hoping to mask the shyness creeping its way up to the surface. He sits up from the pool chair, turning to face you and leaning onto his knees, getting fairly close into your personal space. You don't dare back away, holding your ground as he shows you the back of his hands, his cigarette resting between his fingers in his right hand.

"They say sin and punishment'" He says lowly, showing you each hand with a proud yet mischievous looking grin on his face.

"Oh..." You murmur sheepishly. The way he explained that made you squeeze your thighs together, visibly swallowing as yours eyes flicker from his hands to his eyes. Hanma's lips curve into an almost devious looking smirk, loving the obvious effect he was having on you.

You felt stuck, like a mouse trapped in a corner by a cat. It's the way his eyes so boldly swallow you up without a single care if you notice or not. You had to change the subject quick, lighten things up before you unintentionally set yourself on fire.

"So...I'm assuming we go to the same school. What's your major?" You ask as pleasantly and coolly as possible.

"Digital photography." He replies, leaning back a bit.

"Oh really?! I was not expecting that. You're the first photography major I've met so far here." You say the last part more to yourself. It seems today is actually the most time you've spent around the photography and journalism majors thanks to that interview this morning.

"There's not too many of us I think." He shrugs before taking a slight pause. "You seem like too good'a dancer to be doing it as a side thing." He raises a brow slightly.

"Oh yeah, I'm one of the dance majors for sure." You laugh softly.

"You looked good out there during the halftime show. I got a lot'a nice shots."

As soon as he said that it clicked how he'd be able to catch your anklet. The photographers were the only people able to be on the field during the halftime show, so of course he caught it. "Thanks! I hope I can see them at some point." You smile softly, unconsciously fiddling with your hands on your lap.

He goes quiet for a moment, looking to the side in thought. "You could see 'em now if you want."

"What d'you mean?"

"My camera's in my car out front. Wanna see 'em?" He offers again.

You bite the inside of your lip, brows slightly furrowed. Sure going into this guy's car to look at pictures seemed innocent, but at the exact same time, this isn't just any guy. He's gorgeous, with those tempting eyes that makes your mind fog whenever you look at them for more than a second. Hanma's dangerous for you, he's way too attractive to be playin' around.

You're taken, and even though you're beyond pissed at Ken, that's unfortunately who your man is.

However, no matter how loudly the alarm bells rang in your head.... "Yeah." You nod, feeling your heart skip a beat in a mind-fuzzing blend of anxious excitement.

And as if he couldn't get any more attractive, slowly your head lifts as you watch him stand to his full height, towering over you like a damn skyscraper.

Lord have mercy on your soul.....

Hanma leads you around the house from outside, avoiding all the weaving and dipping through people, and straight to his car, and damn, even his car is good looking. A shiny black Dodge Hellcat with dark tinted windows sat there proudly in front of the party house.

You wanted to facepalm at this point. This was just getting ridiculous now. "Hang on a sec." He murmurs, unlocking the car and opening the passenger side, grabbing the camera that was sitting there in its case. He leaves the door open, helping you in to which you utter a small "Thank you." "Mhm." He nods, closing the door and getting in at the drivers side. The car smelled just like him, cigarettes and that wildly intoxicating cologne he's wearing.

You were pretty sure he didn't feel the same, with the way he's sitting there all cool and chill while doing whatever he's doing with that expensive looking camera, but you were inwardly shaking in your boots. The silence felt so heavy, and you weren't sure how to sit or where to look, so you just fiddled with the sequins on your costume, reminding yourself that your boyfriend was just right inside the frat house.

His cigarette was gone you realized, just as he turned to look at you again, the camera roll finally showing the pictures from tonight. "Here, just hit the arrow to go to the next one." He instructs smoothly, handing you the Canon camera. His slender fingers brush against yours as you grab the device, sending immediate shockwaves down your spine from the back of your neck.

Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you look at the first picture on the screen. You looked so flawless you almost didn't even recognize yourself. Though the day had been so stressful, on the field you looked like a dancing goddess, the costume and makeup sparkling under the stadium lights like some kind of ethereal glow.

"Oh my gooooosh! This looks-this is so..." You trail off unable to really find the right descriptive word, your mouth still hanging open slightly. Hanma chuckles breathily, watching you look at the picture in amusement. You take one last long look at the first one, then go on to the next one.

It was just as beautiful as the previous picture. You were in the middle of your intro solo still, he'd caught you with both hands on your hips and a wide smile, your right leg shifted in front of the left making you look particularly statuesque.

Your heart grew warmer and warmer with each picture you went through, not a single one was a flop, not even a little bit. These are the types of pictures your parents would pay hundreds just to keep and show off to their coworkers and neighbors. "Wanna see my favorite?" He murmurs, cutting into the silence. "Your favorite? Sure." You hand the camera back, curious as to which picture he'd show you.

He clicks the arrow through about seven more pictures, going past it for a second before he finally went back, his lips curving upwards slightly when he saw it. "This one. This is the one."

You let out a small gasp, leaning over the armrest as he shows you the picture. It was-no-you were stunning, and you knew exactly which part of the dance that was too. You'd just finished the moment of holding the split during Emma's brief solo. Then as you come up from the ground you'd enter into a spin and stop with your leg pointed outwards, your left hand on your hip as the right is outstretched, and your fingers point down and outwards.

The angle he took the shot in made it seem like you were looking right at the camera, it caught your eyes perfectly. Your expression was fierce due to the part of the song it was at, and your hair was in the middle of flowing with the breeze.

"This is so beautiful." You smile, almost wanting to tear up. For the first time the whole night you finally felt like you had a chance to bask in that half time show moment. Everything had moved so fast afterwards, there was no time to stop and look at posts or pictures. You knew for a fact though that peoples posts on their stories had nothing on Hanma's professional pictures. "You're real easy to take shots of. Every move you made was perfect." He says, his tone strikingly serious.

"Thanks." You chuckle bashfully, looking to the side as you try to force your heart to stop doing that annoying fluttering.

Easy girl, calm down, he's just being nice. It's just a compliment. Think about Ken, just think about Ken...

Hanma goes through a few of the pictures to see for himself before he speaks again. "Y'know, you make a good muse." He says softly, eyes still fixed on the pictures he's sifting through. "A muse? Like, I'm inspirational?" You tilt your head to the side.

"Yeah, somethin' like that." He chuckles a little. Setting the camera on his lap, he looks you over, up and down and back up, making your face turn hot instantly as you shift uncomfortably in the passenger seat. "What?" You murmur, furrowing your brows in a slight pout. You were sure you'd never be able to get used to his piercing eyes and the way they trail all over you so boldly.

"I've had this idea for a project I wanna do, but I haven't been able to find the right model until you." He explains, looking back up into your eyes.

"Me?! Hold up, you want me to model for you?" You gawk, your face contorted into a look of pure shock. His lips curve into a wide, excited grin, eyes almost sparkling as he seems to have made up his mind.

"I do. You're perfect." He nods, his voice velvety smooth, just like honey.

Again you fold under the sound of his voice and sensual eyes, looking at your hands now nervously fiddling with themselves in your lap. "I-I don't have really any experience with any modeling. I mean, dancers do portraits and stuff but...what kind of modeling do you want me to do?" You stammer bashfully, trying yet failing to hold any sort of confident eye contact with him.

"Nothin' you wouldn't be able to do easily. I need a full body, half naked silhouette of you; something in dark lighting." He says, a bit vaguely in your opinion.

A half naked silhouette in dark lighting...with a guy like him?! Now the alarms were really flashing, but at the same time, it was for professional, career related things. There's no harm in helping someone out with their project, right? You knew all about the frustrations of trying to gather people to help bring your vision to life, so you figured why not help him out.

"Uhhh, I mean, I guess I could do it. Is it an urgent project?" You raise a brow a bit, looking over at him briefly.

"If by urgent you mean for a class then no. This is more of a personal portfolio kind'a thing." He shrugs.

A personal thing? So it's no particular guidelines...

"K. Well, let me know when you wanna do it. I'll find some time in my schedule." You nod.

"Perfect. Lemme see your phone, angel." He purrs, holding his hand out lazily. You try to ignore his flirtatious tone and that name he just called you, reaching in your sweatpants pocket. You take out your phone and unlock it, already knowing to pull up your contacts app. Another jolt shoots down your spine as your fingers make contact again while you hand him your phone. "Cool." He smirks, satisfied that you opened to the app without him having to ask, putting his number and name in.

You went and sent him a text, "Heyyy" with two exclamation points so he could save your number in his own phone.

Why'd it feel so wrong to have his number in your phone? This was just a business thing, a collaboration, right? If you weren't so attracted to him it wouldn't feel like nearly as much of a problem as it does now, and maybe if he wouldn't call you angel or doll with that sexy ass voice, that'd probably make it feel better.

Then if Ken hadn't pissed you off beyond belief, it wouldn't feel like you were doing this out of spite, hanging with some guy you just met at a party since Ken wanted to spend his time with another girl and his sports buddies. But you have no intention of cheating though, so...technically there's nothing wrong, right?

There's nothing wrong about this....

A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: Ooool, what y'all bouta get into puttin' dat man number in y'all phoooone?!?! Teehee, hope y'all enjoyed and I'll have the next chapter up soon! It's finna go DEEOWN next chapter okaaay! Like, comment, reblog please, love you all💖

#shuji hanma #hanma #shuji #draken x reader #shuji hanma x reader #ken ryuguji x reader #black fem reader #strawberryfairi #a mile away㊙️#shuji hanma smut #college au #black female reader #its complicated #shuji x reader #shuji hanma x reader smut #shuji hanma x black fem reader #strawberryfairi🧚🏾‍♀️#strawberryfairimasterlist

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puppiesandnightlock · 5 months

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Link: Dear Younger Me, It's Not Your Fault

Summary: Damian gets blasted into a future where he's living his best life, and not to mention married. He doesn't think he deserves any of it. Future Damian and Jon help his think otherwise.

for super sons week bonus day 2: Magic and Mayhem

“Aw, I almost forgot how cute you were as a little kid, Dami! I just wanna squish his cheeks-”

“Tt, control yourself, Jonathan, if he’s as old as I think he is, he will not hesitate to chop your arm off if you so much as breathe in his direction.”

The child’s head was swimming, the two voices muffled as if he were underwater. He had a vague memory of being set on a bed, warm blue eyes setting him down and startled green hues tucking him in with the blanket still currently wrapped around him.

Instinctively, his hand went to the knife that was usually on the side of his hip. He grimaced as he realized even his most hidden weapons had been taken.

Mother would be so ashamed of him, if she were to learn that he had been taken in so easily, not to mention the failure of hiding weapons.

He sat up, struggling a bit, but managing to open his eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the light.

He was in a room, the bed set in front of a fireplace. The walls were beige, accents of gold and deep green painted along the sides. It was then he took notice of the figure in front of him. He blamed his disorientated brain on missing the key factors of the room.

(“Excuses.” Grandfather would spit.)

The person (?) was draped in a color matching the forest of the walls, poking the fire and making it leap to life.

Spotting a pair of scissors left on the bedside table, he carefully picked them up, moving to get up and sneak towards the figure.

“I know you’re awake.” The voice seemed more amused than dangerous, a discreet accent in the words.

The child startled, pushing the covers off and pointing the scissors at the person.

“Where am I? Who are you?”

He got his answer as the person stood, turning to face the child. He wore an outfit similar to a thawb, deep green with gold accents. There was a gold cuff earring on his left ear, covering it and connecting to a dangling chain in his lobe. His skin was a caramel tone, tanned and weathered through the years. His hair was a soft brown, brushed but without gel. The eyes that met his held pain and trauma behind them, but were kind.

(Kinder than his, he thought to himself bitterly.)

“You are safe here, please refrain from stabbing me with the scissors, although I doubt it would be an easy task.”

Damian opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately cut off.

‘’I assume you’ve already come to the conclusion that this is the future, and please be assured that we are working to send you back to your own time. You will most likely have all memories of this visit erased from your mind, therefore I will tell you that you are in my house, and the only other person is my partner, who is in the kitchen at the moment.”

His older counterpart moved to sit on the bed, and the younger scowled.

“I expected us to be taller.” were the first words out of his mouth.

The older one snickered, muffling his laughter with a hand to his mouth.

“Well, so did I. It's both hard and useful, you’ll get over it in due time, I promise.”

The door was kicked open, a much taller man carrying a tray with tea and toast on it. Both looked over in surprise, the smaller Damian immediately launching the pair of scissors at him.

To his surprise and Older Damian’s amusement, it bounced off his skin, bending as it did so and landing against the wall.

The raven-haired man grinned, dropping the tray on the bedside table.

“He’s so defensive and tiny!”

An angry flush came over his cheeks, but instead of a retort, he asked incredulously, “Kent??”

“Aww, we’re still in that stage!” Jon cooed. “He must have just met me.”

“Do not patronize me, Farmboy!” Younger Damian spat.

Jonn squealed again, making grabby hands. “Look at how absolutely adorable you were bossing me around!”

“Do try not to antagonize him, J.” The older one chided gently, eyes sparkling with fondness.

The child took immediate notice of this, picking up the relaxed postures, the way his older counterpart held such reverence for the other in a way he never thought possible for another human being.

Similarly, this future version watched the older with admiration as if he’d hung the moon and stars himself.

His arm flailed between the both, mouth opening and closing as if speaking but no words came out.

“You–we–him–us-”

Jon laughed aloud at the crisis the younger boy was having, shaking his head. “This is what went on when you finally realized?”

Both Damians scowled, the older one blushing a deep red.

The younger one seemed ready to scream. Both men tried to hide their hands behind their back, although not quick enough.

The child spotted the glint of the matching bands of gold the moment they moved, his eyes going wide as saucers.

“fi 'ayi ealam lan 'afeal mithl hadha alshay'?!” He began ranting in Arabic, pacing on the bed.

“I can’t believe you!” he finally declared, pointing at his counterpart as if he were accusing him of murder. “We married KENT?”

“Like it’s such a bad thing.” Jon put a hand to his heart, mock offended.

“Can it, Corncob! What did Father and Mother think?” He pauses in horror. “What did Grandfather think?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Damian grabbed his hands, holding them tight as the younger one tried to wrench them away.

“He must have tried to have him killed…”

The younger was looking anywhere but the older ones. This was horrible, he was both Robin and a feared assassin, why, why, why was he on the verge of tears at the thought of any of this?

(Deep down, he knew why. This was the forbidden life he kept inside for himself under lock and key. He was a monster, a weapon, meant to take over the League and if not the league, his father’s mantle. He was not supposed to look this happy, have this life, marry someone who was too pure for the world he was born into. Not someone who loved him, who looked at him with the knowledge of his past and still seemed to think he was capable of love.

Happiness….

That was never the plan.)

Jon watched the smaller version of his husband go through a hurricane of emotions all at once, emerald eyes shiny. He watched the internal panic and fear flit through a face too young to have such worries and felt a pang in his heart. One so strong because how many times did he watch his Damian go through that? The tears that should never have been shed, the panic and sleepless nights that should have been replaced with sweet dreams and laughter.

“It’s too nice,” The child finally rasped. “Too nice for me. How…how do I end up like you?”

He directed his question to his older counterpart, hands still trapped in his. The tears made his long eyelashes framing his eyes stick together.

“It’s all too good…for someone like me to have.”

The older one closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

”It took me a long time, with a lot of help to banish the thoughts. Lots of help from different people. I…i can’t tell you anything that will make you believe me, because at this age, i would have been the same.”

“But I can tell you the absolute truth, and it’s that after everything we’ve gone through, and the challenges you have yet to face, we deserve everything that we’ve been given and much more.”

“You deserved a childhood with people who loved you and did not harm you or train you to death. And this future? This is what you deserve. We earned this future. You won’t remember this visit when you go back, but a part of you will know what I say is true.”

The boy sobbed suddenly, the three curling up on the bed and finding solace in one another.

Damian looked down at the paper in his hands. His counterpart shoving it in his hands and softly smiling was the only thing he remembered from his supposed blast to the future.

Dear younger me,

You deserve every good thing you get. None of the mess that is our life is your fault. Go on and make mistakes, give your heart a break, even if only for a moment. It will serve you well to make some friends too. Till we meet again, as your future self.

Yours,

Damian W.K.

The day after sending his counterpart into the portal, Damian was flooded with new, joyful memories, and a worn piece of paper with faded ink on the corner of his vanity’s mirror.

Absent-mindedly he wondered how long it took for the younger one to realize that the initials were a hint to his future after all.

@super-sons-week

#damian wayne #jondami #jon kent #time travel #angst #hurt/comfort #promise is a happy ending #okay ik this is like more damian-centric but i think it counts idk #its not supposed to be canon compliant #check the foot notes on ao3 for my full explanation on it #future damian and jon are married btw #lil damian cant believe it lmao #super sons week 2023

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edensbuttercups · 6 months

Note

Hello, it is I!

I'm here to officially request the Mickey hospital AU, maybe with reader (or Mickey 👀) being the nurse and the other one being the doctor, if this isn't too much to ask for!

Lots of love 💕💕💕

Great minds think alike because this had already started being written in my mind when you mentioned this idea (does this sentence make any sense? Probably not) Had an absolute blast writing this, I think this is probably one of the prompts I have considered less, and read about the least, but that has won me over so easily, it's so very sweet, especially with nurse!Mickey (I might have to explore this universe more if inspiration strikes 👀) Also I clearly know very little about hospitals and nurses and doctors and all that jazz so hopefully this is as accurate as it could be (even with my keeping as vague as possible strategy) Anyway, love you so much, thanks for this request, I hope you like it!!💕💕💕

Words: 2.6k

Saying that he hadn’t caught your eye would’ve been a lie, because the truth was that he had, from the very first day.

The hospital wasn’t big, but it had felt intimidating the first time you walked past the main doors, some nurses rushing past you to reach one of the rooms, a patient loudly talking to the secretary in the reception area, and you remembered looking around, noticing how the whole floor was buzzing with what felt like electricity, noise and chatter and emergencies and calls coming from all around.

You had taken a step back, sighing softly before looking at the papers in your hand, the first letter on the pile, the one with the information about your job, stating the time at which you’d start and who to talk to for more information. You approached the main desk, waiting for the secretary to look up at you, her short brown hair bouncing when she turned her gaze upwards to meet yours, a tired smile on her carefully painted red lips.

“Hi there, how may I help you?” She asked, tilting her head as she spoke. You smiled, “Hi. I’m here for my first day?” you hummed, showing her your letter. “Ah, yes, perfect” She nodded, “well, dear, you’ll have to head up to the third floor, go to your right all the way to the end of the hallway. Dr. Wilson’s office is there, on the… left.” She said, turning her body slightly and chuckling, “he’s the head of your department, so he’ll explain everything else.” She explained. “Thank you so much” You nodded, “and nice to meet you” you added, reaching out to shake her hand, smiling one last time before heading to the lift, waiting patiently for the number on the top to descend.

And that’s when you met him for the first time, his eyes focused on the page in front of his eyes, a report on a patient, you assumed, his concentration only wavering when he looked up at you, moving out of the way so you could press the button for your floor. “Morning” he hummed, studying your face for a few seconds, a hint of a smile on his lips when you replied. He waited for the doors to close before focusing on the report again, pulling his pen out to jot something down.

There wasn’t much to say about him, if not that he was stunning, and pretty, and had a kind smile and kinder eyes, his hair curling so perfectly, especially around the nape of his neck. A quick glance at his name tag revealed his name, M. Garcia, one you made note of, wondering what his first name was many times before his introduction. Manuel? Matthew? Max? Martin?

The answer came a few days later, when you bumped into him, once again in the same lift, his curious gaze no longer occupied by a report, this time able to fully focus on you. You hummed a good morning when you pressed the usual button, third floor, taking note of how he replied back, his eyebrows scrunching up before they raised when he realized where he had seen you before, no longer wearing the soft dark blue jumper like you had last time, this time wearing a doctor’s coat and scrubs that matched his own underneath it. “Oh. We met the other day” he said, tilting his head as he looked at you, his smile warm. “Yeah” You chuckled, “it was my first day. Or, well, I simply had come to get some information before my first day. But here I am now.” You smiled. “So we’re colleagues.” He hummed, holding his hand out, “nice to meet you. My name is Mickey Garcia, you’ll usually see me on the first floor running around, but occasionally I venture on the higher floors” he joked, glancing at the number on the small screen, wishing the ride had taken a little longer. “Aha, so you’re a nurse?” You asked, glancing at his name tag again, the small writing under his name confirming just that. “Yep. So whenever you need, you know who to call.” He said, winking just as the doors dinged and opened, “see you around” he added, stepping out and smiling at you as the doors closed again, taking you to your own floor.

After a few weeks, you had settled into a routine. Mornings, sometimes afternoons, occasionally evenings, depending on your shifts, called for a coffee break, one you managed to time just right to match with Mickey’s on most days, happy to see him especially when he was busy with other patients, his company one you missed. “Second floor” Kathrine hummed one afternoon, smiling knowingly when you looked around. “What?” You asked, focusing back on her. “Garcia, he’s on the second floor. His patient, Mr. Hubert, he’s not doing too well, stopped responding to treatment, so they’re trying to figure out what the next course of action is” she explained, “so that’s where your boy is. He’ll probably be around later, though, so don’t worry.” She smirked. “Not my boy” You huffed, rolling your eyes, the blush on your cheeks not helping your statement. “With the way he looks at you? Yes, your boy” She teased, sipping her coffee. “Unrelated, When are you off next week? I need to buy a dress for a wedding and I need some help” She smiled.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you liked it” you laughed, shaking your head, the steam from your cup rising into the darkness while it warmed your hands, the cold making you shiver nonetheless. He moved closer, his arm linking with yours, warming you up ever so slightly, yet making you blush easily. He always did this, greeted you with an arm wrapped around your shoulder as he asked you how you were, winked at you with a big smile when you crossed each other in the hallways, sometimes rested his head on your shoulder when you shared an elevator ride, usually only if it was just the two of you. “Never said it deserved an Oscar, but it was a fun movie” He smiled, his eyes studying your face as you looked into the distance, the parking lot mostly empty tonight.

He loved the moments he could get with you, an effortless break from the heavier days or from the slower ones, and the added bonus of getting to look at you was one he’d never admit to, but that he loved.

He loved the shape of your lips, or the way your hair curled, or how you laughed when he made a joke. And he loved listening to you, getting to know who was behind the incredible doctor he sometimes got to work side by side with.

“It was weird.” You commented, cocking an eyebrow as you looked at him, chuckling when he grinned. “Yeah, so am I, so you know, works out” he shrugged, laughing when you nudged into him, muttering a shut up and rolling your eyes, his free hand settling on your other shoulder to balance himself, absentmindedly rubbing it up and down over your coat when you shivered again. “Only telling the truth.” He laughed, “and you can’t lie.”

You shook your head, watching as your breath formed a small cloud that soon dispersed into thin air. “Well, maybe I like weird. Not the movie, though, that was just plain wrong” You laughed, missing the way he looked at you, your pager making you glance down, frowning as you read the room number and the surname of the patient on your screen. “Gotta go” You hummed, handing him your cup, “see you later” you said, rushing to the lift and making your way to the second floor as quickly as you could, blushing as you thought back to your words, the elevator ride seemingly endless. He spent the rest of his shift with a question at the back of his mind and a smile occasionally popping on his lips, the words of Mrs. Brown reminding him of you. “And that’s when I met him, so you see, we’ve been together for many years now. And I miss him so much, so make me feel better soon, okay? I’m sick of visiting hours.” She chuckled, looking at him. “I’ll try my very best, Miriam.” He smiled, taking note of her vitals, then reading her folder again, “Actually, I’d say you can probably leave tomorrow” He hummed, pulling the chair closer to her bed so he could sit for a moment, the shift slow enough to allow it. “Yeah?” She asked, eyes lighting with happiness. “Yeah.” He smiled again, holding a hand out for her, “I’ll talk to the doctor that’s following you and if she gives me the get go, I’ll make sure to contact Jorge so he can come pick you up.” He said, closing his eyes. “My doctor, the one you like?” She asked, squeezing his hand softly, a knowing smile on her lips when he opened his eyes, expression dropping at her mention, not really expecting anyone to have noticed, no one other than your colleagues, anyway. “Oh, c’mon boy, you’re not very subtle” She laughed, “You’re always so focused, but when she’s around, you’re focused on her. Which is fine, you’re one of the best nurses that’s ever taken care of me, trust me, but if I may take your role for a moment, you have a severe case of love, child” she grinned, letting go of his hand to pat his cheek.

He sighed, looking the the side, “I… she… Is… great.” He mumbled, nodding, “great doctor. And a good friend.” He said, his crush for you mostly evident, but not one he had openly admitted yet, if not to himself, the increase in the speed of the beating of his heart when he was around you not something he could ignore forever. “A great friend, I can imagine, yeah. And she is an incredible doctor as well, I agree, from what I’ve seen. But maybe she could also be a great girlfriend?” She asked, recognizing in him the same hesitation she had seen in her own son years earlier, too nervous to ask the girl of his dreams out on a date without a little motivation. “I’m not even sure if she’s single” He chuckled, shaking his head, the idea of asking you out making him more nervous than what he wanted to admit. “Did she ever mention anyone?” She asked again, trying to help out. “Nope. And there’s no ring on her finger.” He said, shuffling back in his chair and sighing again, “I have to ask her, don’t I?” He muttered, sighing again. “I’d say so, yeah. You’ll never know if not.” She replied, smiling when he chuckled, squeezing her hand and standing, pushing the chair back in place. “I will. I’ll let you know how it goes” He hummed, winking at her before stepping out of her room, his pager beeping again.

“I’m sick of visiting hours.” He announced, pushing the chair back and sitting down on it, looking at you with a serious expression, one you only saw on his face when something was up with his patients, his usual smile substituted by focus and sometimes worry. “I… don’t think I can do much about that, Mickey” You chuckled, “I can tell Dr. Wilson, and he can talk to his superiors about it, but I think it might be a State issue. Actually, a Nation issue, and a World issue, too” You hummed, placing your pen down. He sighed softly, smiling and shaking his head, then looked back at you. “Do you have a moment?” He asked, glancing at the documents on your desk. “Yeah. It’s a report, but I can finish it later. Oh, actually, she’s your patient too, maybe you could help me, I have a question or two about what treatment ended up working better.” You said, holding the files towards him before dropping them, nodding when he kept his eyes on you, smile growing. “Sorry” You hummed. “No problem, doctor.” He smiled. “Actually, it’s kinda about her.” He said, the name at the top of the page the one of Mrs. Brown, the one that had, unknowingly, spurred him on. “Oh?” You asked, crossing your legs and sitting back, “tell me more.” “She missed her husband, and was telling me to get her to feel better so that she could see him again, since she hated visiting hours. She wanted him to be around all the time, not only when we allowed.” he explained, smiling at how kind she had been to him, sharing short stories every morning when he checked her vitals, and small morals when he’d pay her a visit. “Well, she must be happy then, since she got dismissed. She can now spend more time with her husband” You hummed, smiling at him. “Yeah. But she also made me realize that I also am kinda sick of visiting hours. With you” He said, clearing his throat as he tried to ignore how his heartbeat picked up. “With… me?” You asked, frowning, “Mickey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was a Shutter Island type of situation.” You chuckled, biting your lip. He laughed, shaking his head, “It’s… not like that, no. It’s more of a I really like you and I’d like to spend time with you outside of work, too. Because I like you a lot.” He said, his words growing quieter as he spoke, his nerves taking the best of him. You blushed, realizing what he meant. He liked you. And in a perfect turn of events, you liked him too. Takes two to tango, right? “I don’t think I ever saw that film” You hummed, smiling, standing up from your seat and making your way in front of him, sitting on the edge of your desk, caging yourself in between him and the table. He shook his head, “neither have I, but I’d like to. Are you free tomorrow?” He asked, standing up, the distance between you significantly smaller than what would’ve been appropriate usually, his eyes focused on your lips as he waited for your reply. “I am free tomorrow” You confirmed, hand settling on his arm, pulling him ever so slightly closer. “Lucky me” He smiled, “then would you like to go out with me?” He asked, all of the tension he had felt bringing him to this moment. “I’d love to” You answered, smiling and blushing at the relief you saw on his face, his cheeks growing red, his smile wide and eyes full of warmth, chuckling when he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you softly.

You pulled back after a few instants, gazing at his lips, then studying his faint freckles, then looking into his eyes. You couldn’t wait to kiss him, but more than everything you couldn’t wait to be with him in a different setting, listen to his stories without any rush, tease him and laugh at his jokes and tell your own without the constant worry that your pagers would go off, or that your break was about to end, or dad someone would interrupt you. You couldn’t wait to be with him. To simply be. “Tomorrow, then?” You asked, leaning into his touch when he cupped your cheek, nodding. “Tomorrow.” He hummed, “I’ll pick you up at six?” He asked. “Isn’t the usual pick up time at eight?” You teased. “I can’t wait until eight.” He hummed, leaning forward to press a light kiss to your cheek, unable to hide a smile. “Six it is, then” You chuckled, squeezing his arm and taking a step back, feeling the butterflies in your stomach when he waved at you, walking out of your office with a pep in his step, his smile not leaving his face.

Your hand cradled your cheek, skin tingling from where he had kissed you, the promise of tomorrow making you excited about what was to come.

#top gun fanfic #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #fanboy x reader #mickey garcia fluff #fanboy fluff #hospital au #nurse Mickey Garcia x doctor reader #mickey garcia #mickey garcia imagine #au #fanfic au #fanfic #top gun

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lemonyinks · 3 months

Text

All the ways Bart Allen is loved.

Bart Allen oneshot accompanied by art from the wonderful @bamboozled-and-alone for the @flashfambigbang

6,565 words

or read here instead

Bart trudged inside after Helen, bag dragging along the floor and shoulders slumped.

It had just been one of those days; the ones where even friendly contact made your skin buzz in a not so pleasant way and simply getting out from under your thick blankets felt like medieval torture. He tried to make it through the day, he really had, but even Carol and Preston could tell that he wasn’t his usual self, being more easily frustrated, shying away from touch, and quick to snapping at the smallest of things. It was a surprise to no one when he inevitably caved part way through the day. He told his teacher he wasn’t feeling well and then called Max using the phone in the nurse's office.

It was Helen that answered, and she had told him that Max was out but she would gladly come get him. He knew she was a busy person and that this was probably the only free time to herself that she was going to get this week, and he felt bad for taking that away from her, but he was so tired that he all but begged her to come get him. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t just run home. The school wouldn’t release him without a guardian present and just up and leaving would cause more problems than it was worth. Stupid school and its stupid rules.

It felt like hours before her familiar car rolled up to the school and she came inside to sign him out and collect him. Even though Helen was the type of person to blast music when she drove, the ride home had been blissfully silent. Bart was so thankful for it.

He flopped onto the sofa after carelessly throwing his bag down near the hallway entrance. He buried his face in the corner of the cushions and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt wrung out and tense. Maybe he just needed a nap and he would feel better. At least, that is what he was hoping.

“Are you hungry, hun?” Helen asked from the doorway of the kitchen. Bart felt vaguely nauseous but he had to admit that he was a little bit hungry, so he muttered a tired “sure” and listened to the sound of Helen's retreating steps. He closed his eyes and tried to stave off the headache that threatened to expand behind his eyes. Yeah, that nap sounded good right about now.

He unknowingly drifted into a restless sleep and woke to the pink and orange hues of a setting sun in the open window. He rolled over onto his back and admired the pastel clouds as they drifted by. A breeze cooled his skin and caused the curtains to flutter gently. The beauty of the sky was one of the only things VR had never been able to replicate perfectly. He inhaled deeply, taking in the delicious smell of something cooking in the room over. He leaped to his feet and dashed into the kitchen as he recognized the smell as Helen’s Beef Stew.

“You, like, never make this, Helen. What’s the occasion?” He asked, mouth water at the sight and smell as she stirred the large pot on the stove. It was something that was tedious to make in quantities large enough to satisfy the speedster metabolism, making it a rarity in the Mercury household.

“I just felt like it.” Helen said, ruffling his hair as she headed towards the cupboard to grab one of Max’s big bowls, the ones that looked like oversized mugs with the handles that got too hot to hold. She scooped him several large spoonfuls before handing the bowl off to him and pointing him over to the table. She handed him a bread roll from a bag sitting on the counter that Bart knew hadn’t been there that morning.

“Thank you, Helen.” He said, excitedly dipping his spoon into the heavenly meal and digging in, humming at the as the unbeatable tastes exploded across his taste buds.

“No problem, kiddo.” She said, taking a seat beside him with her own bowl.

I love you

Bart was tired, which wasn’t something that happened to him very often. He was known to have an infuriating inability to grow tired, actually. It was something that drove Max crazy in the beginning, and left Bart feeling restless and agitated. But today, he was well and truly tired.

His shoulders had an exhausted slump to them and he had to shuffle to keep himself awake as he stood behind Max. He gave a tired blink, eyes absently staring up at the starry night sky while he tuned out the boring run down the old man was giving the police officers who had come to collect the small-time villain they had just taken out.

“You look pretty tired there, Bart.” Max said as they finally, finally walked away from the police officer. It felt like they had been standing there for hours! How did Max even find the words to have a conversation so slow?

“Yeah, a little bit, I guess.” Bart said with a yawn. No use in lying about it, really. He was tired, after all.

“Why don’t you go ahead and hop up onto my back then? I'll give you a lift home.” Max suggested, halting their walk. Bart perked up slightly, his eyebrows raising nearly to his hairline,

“Really?” He asked, maybe a touch too excited. He loved piggyback rides, you see.

“Why not?” Max asked rhetorically as he moved to crouched in front of Bart, arms extended back in preparation to hold Bart’s legs.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He moved at the speed of light, practically throwing himself onto the older man’s back with a newfound energy and wrapping his arms around his neck in an near choke hold. Max choked and teetered forward, almost being thrown off balance before righting himself and standing up straight. He hoisted Bart further up his back, grip firm and secure on the underside of his knees.

“Are you sure I’m not too heavy for your brittle old man bones?” Bart asked, swinging his feet back and forth in an excited manner. He knew his weight was nothing for Max, but he couldn’t resist the urge to rib him whenever he could.

“Don’t make me regret this, Bart.” Max grumbled with a sigh, though there was a smile on his lips.

Bart just laughed and hugged him tighter, resting his head against Max's and letting his eyes slip shut as he started back up their journey home for the night.

I love you

“Bart!” Preston’s voice called out to him from somewhere to his left.

Bart turned towards the sound and found Preston rushing towards where he was sitting on the bleachers watching Carol run through her cheer routine. His steps were loud and thunderous on the rickety structure. He threw himself down onto the heated metal of the bench beside him, side pressing into Bart’s and elbow digging into his ribs.

“Where’s the fire?” Bart joked, unconsciously leaning into the weight of Preston.

“That is not a funny joke to make when it is well over 102 degrees outside.” Preston said, giving Bart a disapproving look, his face already blotchy and red from the heat.

And he made a fair point, to be honest. It was so hot outside that Bart was convinced he’d managed to sweat off more than two times his body weight by now. He would have surely passed out if not for the constant water breaks the teachers had been begrudgingly allowing them. Even the shorts he’d borrowed from Cissie and the light tank top he stole from Wally weren’t doing very much to help him from overheating in the sweltering August heat.

“My bad,” He laughed, “But seriously, what's the rush?”

If it was even possible, Bart could have sworn that he saw Preston’s face flush even deeper. The heat must really be getting to him, huh?

“I-um-well, I wanted to give you something.” Preston said. He pulled his backpack up into his lap and then rooted around in it before producing a small cassette tape case. It was see-through and without any indication that it was by a specific band so Bart deduced that it must be homemade.

“What’s this?” Bart asked, reaching out to pull it from Preston’s slightly shaky grasp. Upon closer inspection he realized there was a piece of scrap paper with his name written in red pen taped to the cassette itself.

" It's a cassette tape. I recorded some stuff I thought you might like onto it.” Preston said. His voice was uncharacteristically soft, a small tremble noticeable to it.

“Oh, wow, thank you.” Bart said. He reached into his own bag, digging around for the walkman that Max and Helen got him for his birthday.

“Are you going to listen to it now?!” Preston asked, sounding almost panicked. Bart turned back to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Am I not supposed to..?” He asked.

“I mean, I’m not stopping you. It’s just- well um, I though that- No, nevermind. Go ahead and listen to it.” Preston stuttered out, turning his bright red face away from Bart, who shrugged in response before finally pulling his walkman out from where it was crushed between several trashed spiral notebooks and borrowed textbooks. He rooted around some more until he found the headphones that went with it, half-heartedly untangling the wire before plugging them in and then poking Preston in the shoulder.

“Listen together?” He questioned, holding the headphones out between them.

Preston pursed his lips and looked between Bart and the device several times before his expression softened into a smile and he said, “Why not.”

Bart twisted the headphones a bit until he was able to press one of the speakers to his ear, cupping his hand over it to keep it in place. Preston did the same. This position forced them to lean into each other, their sweaty shoulder’s stuck together, knuckles brushing against each other, and knees knocking together. Preston leaned back, forcing Bart to follow until they were both leaning against the bleacher bench behind them, heads leaning back against the hot metal and faces upturned to the shimmering sun. Bart closed his eyes and let the lyrics to Some Kind Of Wonderful fill one ear, the sounds of the activity on the field and Preston’s steady breathing in the other.

I love you

The rest of Young Justice dispersed throughout the base as the meeting and debrief came to an end. Bart shoved his chair back and flew to his feet, ready to go tearing back home to Manchester. Those meetings were always soooo boring, and he was more than ready to go running with Max or hang out with Preston and Carol. It was the weekend, so he didn't even have homework to worry about. Well, no homework that he was going to worry about anyway.

He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He paused and turned to make eye contact with Tim. Oh no, what had Bart done? Was he in trouble or-

“Hey, here's a list of all the rogues - active or otherwise - in your area. Let me know if anything is missing, kay?” Tim said before handing him a laminated piece of paper that he confirmed with a glance was indeed a list of rouges, with both names he recognized and a few he didn't.

What?

“Thank you?” Bart questioned, raising an eyebrow. Tim patted him on the shoulder one more time before walking away without another word.

He didn’t know why Tim felt the need to give this to him, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with it. For now, he decided to hand it off to Max and hope to forget about the weird experience.

Execpt Tim did it again. And again. And again. Every weekend like clockwork Tim would bring him a new updated list with more and more information on it each time, and again and again Bart would give him a confused look before going home and handing it off to Max. It was like Tim didn’t think he could do his own job! The nerve of this guy!

...But that wasn’t it, was it? The more he paid attention, the more he began to realize that it wasn’t just him that Tim did this to. No, he did it with everyone. He even did it with Cassie, who Bart knew Tim had absolute faith in. So it wasn’t done out of a lack of faith in his ability. It was done out of…concern? Or at least something similar to it.

Tim wanted them, wanted Bart, to be prepared for anything. He wanted him to be safe. And honestly, it had been helpful, he wouldn't lie. More than once it had clued him and Max in on some suspicious activity that they would have been otherwise too busy to notice. It was nice, Bart thought, to have someone on the outside help out every once in a while, even if it was from someone weird enough to alphabetize and colour code the information.

Bart smiled widely at Tim the next time he came to hand him an updated list. Tim smiled back, the lenses of his domino scrunching up and his dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth. He patted Bart on the shoulder like always and left to carry on with his tasks.

I love you

Cassie Sandsmark was an extremely tactile person. This was a well known and inescapable truth that the entirety of Young Justice have come to know over the course of their time together. Whether it be a casual arm around your shoulders or a spine cracking hug lifting you from the ground, Cassie couldn’t go longer than a few minutes without being in contact with one of her friends.

And Bart loved this fact.

He was just as touchy as Cassie, if not more so. Hugs, high fives, pats on the back or shoulder, and even holding hands, you name it and Bart Allen loved it. This simple fact made the two of them the perfect victims to the others' affection.

“Hey, Bart.” Cassie’s voice called from the sitting space as he made his way to the kitchen for a quick snack.

He paused and peaked his head into the doorway. “Yeah?” He called back.

“I’m going to watch Wendy. Want to join?” She called back, unnecessarily loud considering he was only a few feet away from her. He considered her offer and then shrugged. He didn’t have anything else to do, he was just going to go back to his room and play video games.

“Sure, why not. Let me grab a snack real quick.” He said, ducking back into the kitchen.

“Grab me a pop while you’re in there, would you?” She yelled from the other room. He didn’t answer, and instead got to work poking around for something to eat.

He returned to the sitting room a few minutes later with a family sized bag of crisps in one hand and a soda for Cassie in the other. She was laying across the sofa when he got there, one leg lazily hanging over the edge and the other bent at the knee and leaning against the back. Her head was cushioned by the armrest.

He didn’t even consider the other furniture in the room before immediately going to lay himself directly on top of her, setting the drink and the snack on the floor in front of them. He laid his head on her muscular chest and she wrapped her arms around his waist, locking her hands together and setting them on the small of his back. He tucked his hands underneath her, warming them with the heat of her back.

He listened to her heartbeat as they watched the show, his head rising and falling in time with her breath. Eventually she began to run her fingers through his thick hair, and even he had to admit it made him just a little bit sleepy. He felt content to lay there forever.

I love you

Bart leaned back against Anita’s legs behind him, shifting impatiently as she ran a brush through his unruly, static-y locks.

It was getting longer, annoyingly so. It would not stop fall in front of his face unless he was constantly pushing it behind his ear or blowing it out of the way. It drove him crazy. It also seemed to drive Anita crazy, because she had wasted no time in coming up to him after the day's mission was over with a wrist full of hairties and a brush in her hands. He didn’t think twice before following as she wordlessly led him to one of the long couches, allowing himself to be sat on the floor in front of her.

“How is school going?” Anita asked, setting aside the brush to run her skilled fingers through his thick hair.

Bart couldn’t help but snort at the ice breaker. It was something Wally or Barry would awkwardly ask him when they didn’t know how to start a conversation. However, whereas they would say it with this weird, stilted energy, Anita said it casually.

“It’s been good. I joined my school's conservation club recently. It’s really easy to clean up all the waste around the city with my speed, but something about working as a team and slowly making somewhere look nice and clean is really…rewarding I guess.” He replied. Anita hummed.

“Any friends in that club?” She asked, fingers deftly dividing his hair into sections.

“I joined with Rolly and Carol. Preston was going to join too, but then the school started up this film club that runs at the same time, and he couldn’t miss the opportunity.” Bart said, rolling his eyes at the reminder of Preston’s betrayal.

“How are Max and Helen?” Anita asked.

“They’re doing great actually. They’ve both had more free time than usual recently so we’ve been spending more time together. It is honestly a little painful playing board games with them, though. It feels like it takes them both an eternity to take their turns.” He admitted, frowning at the memory. Behind him, Anita giggled as she tugged the strands of hair into place.

“I understand that. It’s a nightmare when my family plays card games. They’re way too strategic about it, especially with Uno. I swear it takes hours before even a single card is played!” She exclaimed, pulling a laugh from Bart in turn.

“We tried to play Uno once, but Max got so angry he refused to talk to me and Helen for the rest of the night. Poor Matt, he got the cold shoulder for nearly a whole week! All because he hit Max with a draw six.” Bart lamented. Anita gently, but firmly, righted his head when he went to shake it in mock disappointment at his guardian's petty grudge.

“That sounds about right,” She said, “We had to remove those cards from our deck to get uncle Maad to play.”

“No way!” He laughed incredulously.

“Yes way!” She laughed along, fingers pausing in Bart’s hair for a moment so she wouldn’t pull at it while she tried to calm her giggles.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence a few moments later, cheeks hurting from all the smiling and laughter. Not too long later, Anita slid a yellow hairtie with a star charm on it down her wrist and pulled the end of the braid into it. She gently patted him on the head to let him know she was done and he took it as an invitation to give her a big hug, which she returned.

He thanked her and they went their separate ways, both in a hurry now to get home after the long day. On his way out, Bart caught sight of the beautiful French braid Anita had done for him in the reflection of one of the big glass windows. He stopped to turn his head from side to side, admiring her work with a wide grin. It looked beautiful.

I love you

One of the Ken’ts cows was due to give birth soon, which meant that Ma Kent was stressed, which meant she was stress baking, which meant lots and lots of baked goods to go around. When she inevitably made too much for the family to finish on their own, it was only natural that she would load up a foil pan to the brim with fresh Brownies and hand them off to Kon on his way to a Young Justice meetup. Being the perpetually hungry teenagers they were, the team swarmed the baked goods like a shiver of hungry sharks that got a whiff of blood in the water. The previously full pan only had a handful of squares remaining in a matter of seconds.

“Kon these are heavenly.” Bart moaned around a mouthful of warm, fudgy brownie. “You’re Ma needs a reward for these or something, I could eat them every day for the rest of my life.”

A bit dramatic, yes; but, hey, they were really good brownies. Kon looked thoughtful at that, a tilt to his head as he studied Bart like a specimen under a microscope. Bart smiled at the attention, uncaring of the mess of brownie that was probably clinging to his teeth as he did so. Kon raised his eyebrow in amusement and slid the rest of the brownies over to him.

Bart didn’t need to be told twice before he was polishing the rest of them off in one go, the foil pan empty in the blink of an eye; literally. Kon laughed at the display while the others all whined in unison, chastising him for not saving any for the rest of them.

Somehow, the stream of sweets didn’t stop, even after the calf had been born (it came out healthy and adorable, for the record). Different sweets and baked goods, all courtesy of Ma Kent, would show up to their meetings and hangouts without fail. Which was awesome. What teenager wouldn't love being brought homemade desserts all the time? However, Bart began to notice something was up. Sometimes the sweets would taste different, too different to be a mishap in the kitchen, and Bart knew Ma Kent was too skilled a baker to make mistakes on a recipe at all. They would also be a little more sloppy, a little misshapen or varying widely in size. Not that he cared. Sweets are sweets, after all. It was just something he had taken notice of.

He came to the conclusion that Kon had started baking them himself, and so he did the only thing natural in this situation. He brought it up.

“Hey, did you make this one?” Bart asked around a mouthful of blueberry pie. Kon seemed to flush a bright red. Bart had to stop himself from laughing at the mental image of Kon with the head of a tomato.

“Is it that bad?” Kon asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Bart tilted his head to the side questioningly.

“No? It tastes awesome.” He said incredulously. What a stupid thing for Kon to say.

“How could you tell then?” He questioned.

“Well, it just looks a little less…” He thought of his words carefully, “neat? I guess?”

At that, Kon laughed.

“I can’t deny that. I’m still new to all of this. I still haven’t gotten the presentation down to a T just yet. Ma is still worlds better at it than I am.” He admitted. He cut another slice of the pie and put it on Bart’s plate. Bart kept eating as if he didn’t notice.

“How come you started baking? New hobby?” He asked, taking another large bite, licking the blueberry syrup from the fork, something he couldn’t get away with doing around Max, lest he spend the next hour or two getting lectured on table manners.

“Ma is a busy woman and I know you like sweets, so I thought, hey why not give it a shot? I get practice in the kitchen and my best bud gets an endless supply of sweets. Win, win.” Kon explained. He refused to meet Bart’s eyes and his cheeks were still red. For some reason, Bart felt his own face grow warm. Weird.

“Hhm. . . Well, I’m not going to complain. You’re the best!” Bart said before returning his attention to destroying the pie as fast as he could.

I love you

Bart hated shopping. He could usually do a full sweep of a store four times over and find everything he needed by the time the others were done looking at one rack of clothes. It was so slow and incredibly boring, so he rarely ever tagged along when his friends went to the mall. They understood his reasons and didn’t push him to join, though he could tell that they were sad every time he said no when they still asked to make sure he hadn’t changed his mind. That alone was enough to make him feel warm inside, to be honest, that his presence was missed. It made him feel like he belonged.

He was currently playing his Gameboy on Cassie’s bed, waiting for the others to return from one such shopping spree. He was technically early - Cassie had invited him to a movie marathon that was planned for when they got home - but her mom had let him in when he knocked so he figured there wasn’t a problem. Cassie probably wouldn’t care anyway.

He didn’t look up as the door opened and his friends all piled into the cramped room, only raising his hand to give a short wave before returning to his game. His high score on Tetris wasn’t going to beat itself.

“Bart! Why are you in my room?” Cassie said, her annoyance all fake and played up.

“Your mom let me in like an hour ago or something.” He answered. He cursed under his breath and set the handheld down as his stack got too high, the Game Over screen flashing mockingly at him only a few clears away from beating his score. He glared at it. Stupid thing.

Kon and Tim were dropping a bunch of bags on the floor as Greta impatiently waited to go through them off to the side. Bart thinks the mall trip might have been for her since she needed new clothes, but he didn’t quite remember.

“Oh, Bart, hi. I’m glad you’re here.” Cissie said, appearing in the doorway and shouldering past Tim, who halfheartedly grumbled in annoyance as he gave her a playful glare. She stuck her tongue out at him before rooting around in one of the bags hanging off of her arms.

She gave a triumphant yell as she pulled out something small from one of the bags. She made her way over to him and held the object out with a closed fist, hiding it from his view.

“A present? For moi?” Bart asked, batting his eyelashes at her. He sat up properly in Cassie’s bed and held his hand out to receive the gift. Cissie rolled her eyes and dropped it into his ready palm.

“I saw it while we were in line and thought of you.” She explained before going over to where Greta was happily digging through her new clothes and dropping down beside the younger girl with the other bags.

Bart looked down at his open hand and examined the gift. It was a small keychain no bigger than his thumb in the shape of Cherub from After-Life Avenger. Cissie must have seen him reading the comic during one of their hangouts. The sidekick was in his iconic fighting pose. The paint was poorly applied and his smile was wonky, likely from some kind of factory error. It was hideous, and it was perfect.

A wide grin spread across his face, a warmth in his chest. He pocketed the keychain and jumped off the bed to join his friends on the floor, ready to help Greta organize some outfits.

I love you

“So, do you think you’ll be able to make it?” Carol pestered, shoving the flyer into his hands. “It would really mean a lot to me if you came to this.”

Bart stared down at the poster, the font bond and in his face. “New Hampshire Cheer Competition!! Finals this Saturday 11/15 Don’t miss it! Be there, or be square!” He blinked at it and then looked back up at Carol’s anticipatory face, her eyes shining behind her glasses.

“Sure, I’ll be there.” He promised.

And that was how Bart found himself pressed in between Preston and Rolly on a set of tiny bleacher benches in the gym of a school two towns over. He had wanted to run here when he heard the distance, but Preston had insisted on carpooling with his dad, so Bart was pressured into sitting through the agonizing hour and a half long drive over here.

He grumbled and elbowed Rolly in the ribs when the other scooted way too close to him in order to make room for an elderly man who was very intent on sitting on the same bench as them. He regretted his choice to wear a thick flannel today. Despite it being cold outside, it was way too hot in this cramped gym. Why did they choose this school to do their competition at? Their gym was way bigger than this one! Stupid…

His sour mood quickly dissipated when Carol and her team walked into the gym, however. He watched his best friend scan the crowd with squinted eyes, a hand shielding her face from the fluorescent lights up above. He decided to make it easier for her to spot them, raising his hand high as it would go and giving a big, dramatic wave. He definitely got way too into Rolly and Preston’s personal space as he did so, but honestly? It was revenge for making him sit in the middle. Take that.

Carol spotted him immediately, a grin stretching across her face as she waved back just as dramatically, hitting one of her teammates in the head with her elbow in the process. She immediately withdrew her attention from her friends to apologize to the laughing girl, who waved her off before gesturing towards their team, who were leaving both of them behind. Carol gave one more small before moving to join back up with her team.

Bart had to admit, the competition was impressive. He didn’t even know many heroes who could do some of the flips that Carol and her team were doing, and even less who had the communication skills to work so in sync without even uttering a word.

Carol’s team didn’t win, but they came in third place, which wasn’t too bad. Bart would admit that he did start to zone out at this point, bored to pieces by the long winded award ceremony. He cheered when everyone else did, but counted ceiling tiles with his chin resting on his closed fist in the meantime.

Eventually the competition was over and the crowd began emptying out of the double doors at the back of the gym. Bart followed his group out and to Preston’s dad’s car with his hands in his pockets, idly chatting with Preston and Wade as he went. Suddenly there was one arm thrown around Bart’s shoulder, another around Preston’s, forcing them both to bend over slightly.

“Hey, boys!” Carol’s excited voice shouted into their ears. Her hair was disheveled and frizzy, her face flushed from both the past hours of physical activity and the biting cold weather. Her smile was as bright as the sun, happiness radiating off of her in waves despite the fact that she hadn’t won.

“Carol! Hey! You did amazing out there!” Preston exclaimed, throwing his arm around her waist and giving her a sort of side hug.

“Aw, thanks. You’re sweet. My team did most of the work though.” She said, leaning away from Bart to return the semi-hug.

“Sorry you guys didn’t win,” Bart said, “You really did do awesome.”

“Psh, who cares about winning. I’m just really glad you guys are here.” She said, giving him a similar side hug as Preston. And Bart could tell that she really meant it.

I love you

10 .

Bart felt a little silly if he was being entirely honest. He had been in louder, more crowded situations than this before. Hell, he had been to concerts in the past, performed in them even! This shouldn't be affecting him in the slightest. And yet, for some reason, as he stood in the mosh pit of some concert Cissie had convinced them all to go to with her, he felt more overwhelmed than he had in probably his whole life. Or, at least that is what it felt like.

The pulsing lights, the roaring cheers, the incomprehensible lyrics screamed into a crackling mic, the pressure of a million sweaty bodies crowding up against his own; it was all too much.

In the blink of an eye, he was zipping through the crowd and out of the door of the concert hall. He doesn’t know where he went or how he got there, but he found himself pressed up against a cold, concrete wall, shivering slightly in the chilly air. There was a cold sweat breaking out across his overly warm body, leaving him feeling even more uncomfortable. His breath came out in short pants as it crystalized in front of him. He tried to get control of his rapidly beating heart, pressing a fist firmly into the underside of his ribs and feeling it pound against his sternum like it was trying to burst free.

He took deep breaths through his nose and exhaled out of his mouth, just like Max had taught him. It didn’t seem to be doing much, though. He squeezed his eyes closed and leaned his head against the concrete, uncaring of the way the action pulled on his hair.

He let out a gasp when a frigid hand suddenly slipped into his own. He opened his eyes and found Greta sitting right beside him, her legs pulled up to her chest. One arm was resting on her knees so as to cushion her chin, and the other was pressed between the two of them where she was holding his hand. She was making a point to not look at him.

He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t have to. Her actions and presence alone were enough to say I'm here for you. She just sat there with him in silence until Bart finally got his breathing under control. Then, she leaned her head against his shoulder and her thumb rubbed circles into his knuckles. Bart took one more deep breath, now comforted by the presence of his friend, and he never felt lighter. He leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes a second time.

I love you

11.

Bart lay on the hood of Cissie’s car with his hands folded over his stomach, Greta on one side of him and Cassie on the other. Greta was fast asleep under a pink and yellow star print blanket, head cushioned by her arms, while Cassie was chatting up a storm with Cissie, who was sitting on the roof above them. Tim was next to her, pointing a camera up at the sky and meticulously taking pictures of the stars. Kon and Slobo were playing with Krypto somewhere off to the side. Anita was watching them from where she sat in one of the car's open doors, her laughter quiet but still loud enough to be heard.

They had come out to watch the stars, but most of them had lost interest in that a long time ago. Now they were just enjoying each other's company.

Bart lazily blinked up at the cosmos as the drone of his friends talking and laughter filled his ears. He wasn’t tired, really; it was more of a content drowsiness that was washing over him, brought on by a feeling of utter safety and comfort. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in it.

He didn’t even notice he had begun to shiver a little until something warm and heavy was tossed over his body. He cracked his eyes open just enough to see Slobo standing on the bumper of Cissie’s car, hands planted on his boney hips and a disapproving look on his face as he glared down at Bart's half asleep body. Bart further saw that it was the other teen’s insulated leather jacket that was now draped over Bart like a blanket.

“Idiot, I told him to bring a fraggin’ coat of his own.” Slobo said to no one in particular, shaking his head in what was clearly meant to be disappointment.

“You know, we had spare blankets in the trunk, Slobo. You could have given him one of those.” Cissie said, amused.

“That’s too much fraggin’ work, scrounging up one of those. Nah, this is just fine. He can use that for now.” Slobo said before hopping off the bumper to go back to where Kon and Krypto were waiting for him. Bart slipped his eyes shut once more, snuggling into the warmth of the jacket.

I love you

Bart had been thinking a lot lately; about love and what it meant.

He couldn’t claim to know exactly what it meant to love or be loved, but, really, who did? There were a million different ways to say I love you. It was near impossible to even try to comprehend the true extent of the word.

Love was the heavy weight of a warm meal sitting in your stomach after a hard day. It was fingers weaving beautiful patterns into your hair while you talked and talked about anything and everything. It’s the sticky residue of homemade blueberry pie on your fingers, staining the corner of your mouth as you clean your plate and go in for more. It was a lovingly crafted cassette with wearing tape that you listen to almost everyday, a flush on your cheeks as you absorbed the true intentions behind each carefully selected song.

Love was a small gift to say “I’m thinking of you”. It was a detailed report looking out for your safety. An invitation to watch someone do what they enjoy so that you may share in their happiness. A cold hand holding your own when your heart won’t seem to slow down. It’s a jacket draped over you like a blanket as you drift off to sleep to the sounds of laughter.

Love was all of this and so, so much more.

So, while he may never know just what that four letter word meant by definition, he didn’t need to. He was already certain of one thing; he is beyond loved and he is full of it. That simple knowledge was more than enough for him.

#bart allen #konbart #bartpres #bartpreston #preston lindsay #carol bucklen #helen claiborne #max mercury #not tagging everyone here sorry #inkywriting #i had more planned out but as many of you here on tumblr know i was sick a LOT last year #so i had to scrap a few scenes (meloni i'm sorry I love you) in order to make it in time #i still like the way it turned out though and I had a lot of fun writing it #so I hope that you enjoy it <3333 #flash family #long post

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meshlasolus · 2 years

Text

House Of Memories (36/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: angst, darth maul (again, a warning in himself)

Summary: After the death of Satine, it is up to the rebelled team of rogue Death Watch members to help Obi-Wan escape, but there's just one problem... you're with Darth Maul.

A/n: i don't like this, like, at all... it is 5 am and i have so much to do tomorrow and i hate myself for staying up but i gotta stay on the HoM grind bc it makes me feel like I have at least the smallest bit of control over my life... anyways enjoy this disaster of an episode i'm gonna go sleep through Independence Day

also y'all if you like the story, maybe consider buying me a coffee :)

Words: 1.8k (yes, i'm disappointed in myself)

Obi-Wan never made it to a cell, his transfer was vastly interrupted by a group of rouge Mandalorians. They wore blue and white armor, and though he did not understand the significance of those colors, he was able to identify them as the cult called death watch. He'd had several run ins with them before, although now they seemed to be running to his aid. It was a stark contrast from his usual interactions with the group. Last time, if he remembers correctly, he was being shot at by three members, dodging the blasts and trying to get Satine to cover. She was always a stubborn one, Satine. He supposed now she was gone he may find himself missing it.

Over anyone else, he felt the most guilt, as a heavy weight on his shoulders. It tried to crush him, along with his anxiousness over your current situation. Satine had been killed, and you'd been left, alone nonetheless, with his arch nemesis, Darth Maul. He thought he was headed straight for a cell, but this coincidental clash of Mandalorians was perhaps in his favor after all.

A girl wearing the Convor markings on her helmet flew over, and when she landed on the platform, taking out a guard and ripping Obi-Wan's lightsaber, it became clear to him they this was not just a brush of the death watch, but a ploy to get him out.

She ripped her helmet away, revealing short, flaming red hair. She held a certain confidence about her that reminded him of you. You were always very sure of yourself in battle. She looked vaguely familiar, like someone he'd met before, but couldn't place.

She approached him with a sway in her hips, her smirk appearing as she inspected the lightsaber.

"I don't believe we've met; you are?" he questioned, watching as she ignited the lightsaber and helped him out of the restraints that he'd been placed in.

"I am Bo-Katan, I'm here to rescue you," she told him, taking a jetpack from her ally and holding in up to him. "That's all you need to know."

"As long as I can get out of here."

Obi-Wan turned and allowed for her to attach it to the armor he was wearing, tilting over upon receiving the weight.

"Do you know how to use this?" She inquired, raising a brow. He seemed like he was going to fall out of the sky, although he would try his hardest.

"In this case, I'll be a fast learner."

They all moved to leave, but there was a detail he was still not quite clear on. He held his hand up to grab their attention, accompanied by his words.

"Wait, we cannot leave yet," he explained, and all helmets turned to face him. Bo-Katan was confused, obviously, but stopped to listen to his reasoning. She had wanted to be in and out, close to boarding a ship by now, but Kenobi had other plans.

"Why not?" She asked, annoyed at yet another stint in her original plan. Her hands mounted her hips, as she stood by for his answer. He knew he probably wouldn't receive any help, but he wasn't leaving this planet without the thing that mattered most to him in the whole galaxy.

"My Padawan is still being held hostage in the palace. I need to find her."

He heard several modulated sounding sighs of exasperation, and he could practically feel the eyes being rolled beneath the hiding space of the helmets around him. This was a very unpopular idea, but he wasn't going to budge on it, and he doubted they would just leave him to fend for himself, since they'd risked their own lives to save him only moments ago.

"If she's in the palace, then she's with Maul."

She was contemplating it, that was evident, but her decision was made slower than anticipated. She knew about some Jedi traditions. A Padawan learner to their Jedi Master was the complete priority. She could see just by the look in his eyes that this learner of his meant even more to him than most would.

"I will not leave without her," he said firmly, and it was now she understood the extent of his devoutness. This learner of his was the only thing that mattered to him, this she could clearly see.

"Then you must find her. We can only take you so far, and though we can have an escape prepared, but the rest is up to you."

He sighed in relief, nodding his head and readying a plan in the battlefield on his mind.

"I will do what I must."

"You're a consular," Maul seemed intrigued, by igniting the saber that had been plucked from you upon capture. "The force made living, the wisest among the Jedi."

You had not spoken a word to him since you'd been separated from your Master. You knew that the more you spoke, the more you fed him to feast on. Your mind would not be manipulated again, and you were convinced that he wouldn't be taking any sensitive or otherwise private information pertaining to you, or Obi-Wan.

"You were wiser when the darkness filled you," he paused, and upon seeing a quick flash of fear in your eyes he chuckled darkly, realizing he had hit a nerve, but he wouldn't stop until he had severed it. "Oh yes, I can sense it... buried inside of you like you are its tomb."

You moved your eyes to the ground, refusing to show him any emotion henceforth, because as most force sensitive beings could, he saw more than most people did in even the slightest expression you wore.

"You keep it in a grave as if it is dead, but you know it is not. It waits for you to let it arise, to let it take control. It desires to give you all you've ever wanted and more, if you should only choose to accept its power. I know you've let it consume you before, don't think I missed the lovely streak in your saber blade. The markings of a healed crystal... it means that before it was there, you bled it."

He held his hand up in a fist, pulling you towards him in one swift motion. Now you stood, inches away from the Zabrak Sith, awaiting his next move. You needed to find a way out of here, this had gone on far enough and you only wished to be in the presence of one being this instant.

"Such a pretty face," he said, tracing a finger over the bridge of your nose and down to your bottom lip. He parted your mouth while watching with a narrow-eyed grin. "I can feel that the mind sitting behind it is far more interesting."

His hand moved to the side of your head, and he closed his eyes.

This was it; this was your escape. It was a half thought out plan, with very little confidence that it could actually work, but like most things you did, you refused to hesitate, not even once, before enacting it.

You opened your mind to him, giving him everything, or at least, everything you wanted him to see. Everything about Obi-Wan and the relationship you had with him, all the small details and memories you could fit into your thoughts at once.

You let him focus and dwell on those things, being so deep inside your mind that he'd forgotten all about the saber that was now only loosely clenched in his other hand. You pulled it to your hand in a moment of confidence, tearing yourself from his hold, and leaping back into a battle-ready stance. You knew you were foolish for this, and having figured out he'd been fooled, he seemed indifferent. Perhaps you'd let him see too much, things that were supposed to be for your mind only.

"I suppose I killed the wrong woman today," he reasoned, not even reaching for his saber, or the dark saber for that matter. "It seems you are the one his affections lie with..."

"How do you know those thoughts weren't just my diversion?" you were certain you could perhaps fool him again, but he was not a child, nor was he as brainless as your normal enemies. He laughed darkly, and did not even consider your suggestion, for he knew it was false.

"Oh, what a shame... Kenobi's young love shall be my dark apprentice, it will be my greatest revenge," he announced, sitting back in his throne with a shake of his head. "I've seen in your mind, he watched you cross paths with the darkness before. The pain, and the fear in his eyes was undeniable. When he sees you standing by my side, enraptured by the darkness, it will obliterate him."

"As long as he lives, my path is set. Nothing can derail me from his teachings," you stood strong, hoping to make him realize there was absolutely nothing he could do to persuade you. You didn't realize the real horror of what you had done until it was too late.

You gave Maul the most precious outlet for his vengeance, without even meaning to. You gave him yours and Obi-Wan's relationship. Now, he knew what Kenobi held dearest to him, he knew what would cause him the most pain and suffering. You were the key to it all. Even if you'd managed to escape today, he would never quit, never stop until he's satisfied himself on account of the man he hated so much.

He would have given a reply, had the glass of the roof not broken above him, falling on the ground around him as the Death Watch rebels flew in. You were thankful for the distraction and started running away to let the scene play out. They shot at him in a random pattern, giving him no time to think as he did his best to deflect the shots. You had almost reached the doors when you were grabbed from behind and lifted into the air.

You weren't afraid of heights, more so of falling, and it made you cling to your master as he took you out of the palace a moment after.

"You're late," you remarked, trying to avoid looking at the ground. It seemed irrational, considering you'd flown so many times before, however you entertained the fact that this was far different, as one sudden move could send you hurdling towards the planet's surface.

"You'll have to forgive me; I was a bit tied up."

As you saw the other members of the Death Watch follow behind you, you realized this was a set intention. They were there to help rescue you.

"I'm not very fond of this planet," you commented, turning to see the ship that could lead you off of it. This was a planned escape, and you thanked the Maker that there would be no more bumps in the road. You could not wait to be drifting in the abyss of space once again, as long as it meant you would be out of harm's way.

Obi-Wan cracked a smile at your statement, for he had just been thinking something along the lines of it.

"Trust me, I know."

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#obi wan x padawan #obi wan kenobi #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #ewan mcgregor #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader

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eruden-writes · 2 years

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Room & Board - Part 13 (Vampire x Reader)

Anon submitted this prompt: For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

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The three of you decide to meet up at a Penny's diner - a quaint eatery, dressed up in greens and yellows, that never quite shook the 'corporate franchise' air - for dinner before heading to the theater. Tabaeus and you take the bus together, planning to carpool with Ewan later.

Inside the Penny's, it is pleasantly warm and only slightly busy, with plenty of empty tables between patrons. The scent of their trademark pies wafts through the air, along with the syrup and sweetness of their 24-hour breakfast specials.

From one of the waiting benches, Ewan stands up upon seeing you. Immediately, he's all smiles, in spite of Tabaeus's appearance. Awkwardly, you wave to him, knowing the outfit Tabaeus chose for you is... uncharacteristic.

Your little party of three is led to a corner booth near the back and, after you slip in on one side, you find yourself flanked by your companions. Which only intensifies the stares.

All through the bus ride and into the restaurant, you felt eyes following you and Tabaeus. Perhaps Tabaeus a little more than you, considering their state of dress.

They wore an above-the-knee pink-white-brown plaid skirt with dark brown stockings and a sleeveless brown turtleneck halter, over which Tabaeus wore an oversized soft milk-chocolate brown cardigan. The clothes and shoes - chunky brown platform mary janes - are totally foreign to you. Vaguely, you wonder if Tabaeus has been shopping when you were at work or if they'd figured out the trap of Online Shopping.

Either way, you think they look adorable and well put-together. Especially with the little brown beret, pink tie, and retro round sunglasses with brown-gold frames.

You can't say the same for yourself. Tabaeus fished out that bat onesie from wherever it had been stashed.

It turns out the vampire was very well acquainted with the idea of karma.

"So, what's with the get-up?" Ewan laughs, turning to you after the waitstaff has taken your drink orders.

Even though he's dressed casually, he still puts you to shame. The dark denim vest, with lighter colored sleeves roughly sewn on to make it a jacket, and tee-shirt are ones you've seen before. You even helped to sew some of the patches on the jacket. Though his jeans appear new and without holes, even if his sneakers are the same-old same-old.

Slumping further into the seat, you press your hands to your face. The wings of the blasted pajamas catches on the table's edge and you huff, "Tabaeus chose it."

"I do not know why you are complaining," Tabaeus chuckles and, when you look at them, they give you a vicious, teasing smile. They reach over, pinching your cheek with cold their cold fingers. "You look cute enough to eat."

Moodily, you swat Tabaeus's hand away, your own lips puckering further into a pout. You had hoped they'd dress you up snazzily or sexily. Something that would make it so both you and Tabaeus could taunt and tease Ewan. You should have known better, in retrospect. Why would they help you look tantalizing, just to dangle you in front of their potential natural enemy?

"Well, we should un-cute-ify you enough so no one eats you, hm?" Ewan leans over to you, nearly touching his forehead to yours. Before you can answer, he has shrugs off his jacket and offers it to you.

"My hero," you dryly say as you grin and accept the jacket. It takes you a moment to struggle into the jacket, folding the sewn-to-sleeve wings into the arms of the coat. The scent of Ewan and pine envelops you, his sinfully warm body heat still lingering in the fabric.

You hope this will keep people from staring at the pajamas. Though you doubt it.

From the corner of your eye, you see Tabaeus roll their eyes in an exaggerated fashion. Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at them, having beat their little revenge plot. But Ewan isn't done. From his pocket, he fishes out a collar. He holds it out to you, an eyebrow cocked and a goading, wolfish smile on his lips.

You smooth the hood of the pajamas over the collar of the jacket, before reaching for the dog collar. The snort of laughter you make isn't stifled as you ask, "Why do you have a dog collar?"

If you're going to dress ridiculously, might as well go all out, you decide. Without thinking of the potential implications, you slip the collar on, fastening it at a comfortable setting. Like the jacket, it weighs warmly against you.

Before Ewan can respond, Tabaeus sniffs loudly. "I told you, he's a dog."

They don't even look up from the menu they're suddenly so interested in. Amusement in Ewan stills, his gaze jerking to Tabaeus. Danger prickles across your skin and suddenly the air is heavy, like an angry predator stalked into the room. "What's that supposed to mean?"

If Ewan had fur, you have no doubt it'd be bristling in an agitated fashion. You think you can see his lips twitch, as if wanting to bare his teeth in a snarl.

Tabaeus's red eyes lazily side up to Ewan and they flash him a pointed and pointy smile. "Just that you are a rapscallion. A scoundrel. Need I go on?"

While you hoped Tabaeus could have acted civil for the whole night, what little they gave you was probably all they could do. Other than vampires and werewolves being at each other's throats - and your suspicion that Tabaeus is jealous of Ewan - you also try to account for the out-of-character vibes. Those uncharacteristic mannerisms have something to do with the missing pieces of the Tabaeus puzzle, you think.

The air between the two of them is sparking and agitated now, though. You briefly consider spilling the beans to Ewan, before remembering the other patrons around you. It would probably be better to be discreet. Even if these two aren't being as careful.

Pulling out your phone, you text Ewan, explaining Tabaeus had told you of their alleged lycanthropy. Ewan's phone chimes and, once he pulls it from his pocket, he shoots you a curious look before reading the text in full.

If there was a question to the claim, it dissipated as green eyes shot angrily to Tabaeus. A quiet growl - one that you felt more than heard - started deep in Ewan's chest. Under his breath, you hear him mutter, "Blood-sucking asswipe."

A pretty mild insult, you thought, especially as Tabaeus simply smiles and shrugs carelessly.

"Look, I don't want you two to fight," you sigh as you put your phone away. Your hands land on the table, feeling the icy coldness of the laminated top. "The last couple days have been heavy and I just want to have fun."

Your words instantly draw Ewan's attention. He shifts toward you a bit, and you can't help but wonder if he's already imagining all sorts of awful things happening from sharing a roof with Tabaeus. Blood meals and enthrallment and who-knew-what-else. Ewan's hand brushes yours on the table and you're torn between comfort and dread. "Heavy how?"

"It's... Ugh, just a lot." You sigh and lean your head against the table, not wanting to put Tabaeus in a difficult spot. How Ewan would take the news of the journal and what it detailed could only be imagined. It likely wouldn't help foster any friendship between vampire and werewolf.

Besides, the memory of those words makes your head hurt. Like an icepick lodged into your grey matter.

To your surprise, Tabaeus fields the question with a solemn tone. "They've been reading a journal from a box of vampire hunting supplies I provided them."

You glance up at Tabaeus just as Ewan utters a surprised, "What?"

The chatter of the diner suddenly feels louder, pressing in on you. The clink of plates, the swish of water pouring into glasses, the muffled delight of people getting their food. It all feels far off. Perhaps it is, considering this conversation almost feels like an entire world away.

"It's a long story." Now, it's Tabaeus's turn to look conflicted. They refuse to look up at Ewan or you and turn one of the pages of the menu. You can tell Tabaeus isn't looking at the words or pictures.

"Tabaeus has amnesia. Maybe." Buoyed by Tabaeus's willingness to let Ewan into the situation, you prop yourself up on your elbows on the table. Cradling your face in your hands, you sigh before going on. "And the journal detailed experiments done to them in the 1880s by some people who caught them."

"Ah," Ewan says, obviously struggling to find something to say. He blinks, his fingers fiddling with the edge of his own menu. "Okay."

"Just okay?" Your attention swings to him, your eyebrows raised. You expected more from him, especially since his werewolf nature was confirmed. The moment he heard of Tabaeus's alleged amnesia or the vampire hunting book or just the heavy atmosphere, you thought Ewan would be fervent in trying to separate you from Tabaeus.

"They're lucky to still be alive, if they got caught at one point." Ewan shrugs, his eyebrows lowering and lips contorting with conflicting feelings. For the first time, you wonder about his connection to other lycans. Was he turned? Or did he grow up with a werewolf family? A pack? Your lips thin, considering what sort of horrors might befall any supernatural being living in this world, populated by unforgiving humans.

He runs a hand through his messy curls, his nose wrinkling a bit. "As for the memory thing, I've heard of any long-lived people having a hard time with memories. The human brain isn't built for it."

A thoughtful sort of silence blankets the table. The fact Ewan didn't jump on shitting on Tabaeus resonates at the back of your head, your thoughts more focused on what he said.

It's true, isn't it? Even if a vampire was a creature of the night, they started as a human. Didn't they? And wasn't the same true for werewolves, as well? Even if it was a trait bred into their being, there was a point when werewolves were just human.

As you consider this almost obvious point of view, Tabaeus cuts in from your other side. "Strangely poignant. For a mutt."

"Thank you. I do try." Ewan flashes Tabaeus a smile and inclines his head in a gracious nod. You're thankful he's not rising to Tabaeus's bait this time. The vampire frowns, obviously hoping to bother the other.

"Anyway," you cut in, before yet another round of bickering can be ignited. You tap your own menu against the table, flipping it open. "What are you going to order?"

"They got a good plant-based selection here." Eagerness takes over Ewan's expression as he points out to the particular section he's talking about. The print is done up in greens, to highlight the 'plant' centric theming. His finger slides down to the fourth option, which has a photo of a tasty looking burger beside it. "Was going to go for the Inconceivable Burger. Has a tofu-based aioli on it that slaps."

"Well, that is a shocker," muses Tabaeus as they, too, lean over your menu. Their tone tells you they aren't going to be so easily dissuaded from their shit-stirring. You frown at the vampire, knocking your foot gently against their ankle. They pointedly ignore your attempt to get their attention and your displeased expression, which annoys you further.

"What?" Ewan tilts his head slightly to Tabaeus, his eyebrows raised.

Tabaeus meets Ewan's confused look with a smile and synthetically sweet tone. "Most mongrels want it rare and bloody."

"Yeah, well, I'm vegan." Ewan doesn't miss a beat, rolling his eyes. Once more, you're thankful he's not rising to Tabaeus's taunts, even if he sounds annoyed now. "Get off my ass about it."

"You wish I was on your ass." A pout puckers at Tabaeus's lips, further frustrated by the lack of response from Ewan.

"I can't tell if you two are fighting or flirting." You snort and ignore the look they both shoot your way. Though the intensity and heat of their looks make your insides squirm. Instead, you focus on the menu before you, trying to steer the conversation to a safer topic. "The plant-based chicken tenders sound good."

When the waitstaff comes around to take orders, you're not surprised Tabaeus orders a plant-based meal, as well. You have a feeling they don't like the idea of being left out of the pattern.

Once the waiter bustles off to the kitchen, you look back over to Ewan. "So, what movie are we seeing?"

It's been awhile since you've gone to see a movie, if you're being honest. You don't even know what's playing in theaters at the moment. Streaming services have spoiled you, when you were able to afford them.

"There's a few I kinda want to see, but I'm really up for anything," Ewan shrugs, scratching at the back of his neck.

It's obvious he doesn't want to lock the three of you into any movie in particular. Still, he can at least give you a starting point as to what he's hoping for. "What're you interested in?"

"Well, the Unexpected Human Problem looked good for a sci-fi. Heard it involves time travel, too." Ewan pulls out his cellphone, pulling up the movie listings for the nearby theater. You peer over to his screen as he sets it on the table, without realizing just how close you're getting to him. "There's also Desperation's Summit, a romantic drama involving a troll and human lady. Honestly, seeing the trailers, she acts pretty awful. I'm just curious how they redeem her."

Brief memories of the unskippable trailers playing before your TubeYou viewings skims through your thoughts. With an agreeing nod, you laugh, "Yeah, she seemed pretty bad, honestly."

"Oh! And there's Plague Butcher, which takes place in Victorian England and it's about a butcher using plague corpses for their meat." Excitedly, he points to another option. The poster for it depicts an old-timey butcher's storefront done up to make it look like the meats hanging in the window form a screaming, human face. "Ends up with a zombie apocalypse sort of vibe, which I thought was interesti-"

"Ah, there it is." On the other side of the table, Tabaeus cuts in again. Ewan and you look over to the vampire, who is leaning their chin in their hand, elbow braced on the table. Tension threads through your shoulder as you frown at them. That disdainful tone is starting to aggravate you.

There's a knowing, sly grin on their lips at your questioning gazes. "Horror. Is it not a common trope of people who seek to get close to whom-so-ever they invited out?"

With a frown, you're about to tell Tabaeus to lay off. Ewan had mentioned two other genres, before talking about the last one. Obviously, he wasn't using anything to get closer to you.

"That's the plan." Ewan surprises you with his words. Your attention flickers to him, finding a shameless grin on his lips as he leans back into his seat. Both of his arms extend along the back of the booth, looping you under his arm while also showing off his arm span. There's a taunting edge to his words as he says, "No worries, I'll sit between you both. Optimal position."

It doesn't escape your knowledge that Ewan's plan literally puts him between yourself and Tabaeus. However, you're not sure if he means to be an obstacle or is just being nice to include the vampire.

Tabaeus snorts, their tone taking on a disgusted lilt. "I am not going to cling to you of all people."

"I don't know. You dressed our dear friend in adorable footie jammers, while you got all gussied up." Ewan winks down at you, which makes you hunch your shoulders. The fluttery sensations in your stomach jump as the werewolf gives your shoulders a squeeze. Thankfully, he doesn't stare at you longer as he lobs a question back at Tabaeus, "Didn't you want attention?"

"Not from you," Tabaeus spits out, their nose wrinkling further. From under the table, you feel their foot brush against your leg. Heat flares up your spine, understanding the unspoken words in Tabaeus's actions.

Unaware of the footsie beneath the table, Ewan's grin is easy, toothy, and roguish. You feel his eyes slip from Tabaeus to you as he speaks, "Aw, that's a pity, because I find both of you ravishing."

Outrage paints itself across Tabaeus's features. However, you're fairly certain they'd be blushing if they had any blood in them. You are feeling the heat yourself, if you're being honest.

Before Tabaeus lobs another insult Ewan's way, you sigh and hum in a singsong voice, "Fighting or flirting?"

You regret the taunt as soon as it leaves your lips. Tabaeus's gaze shoots to you, their red eyes intense, especially as they catch onto Ewan's arm still lazily around your shoulders.

"Why are you so intent on asserting we're flirting?" Their eyes narrow and you still as that pout on their lips shifts into a grin. A sharp light suddenly shines in their gaze. They lean closer to you, dropping their voice to a soft decibel that sends tingling goosebumps along your body. "If I did not know better, I would think you wanted us to be flirting."

Ewan shifts, peering down at you while his arm remains firmly in place. A bit of teasing surprise filters into his voice. "Are they trying to get a two-for-one deal?"

"Oh, I did not think of that." Tabaeus's words are smooth, tinged with a spark of curiosity as their gaze stays glued to your face.

Shocked, your mouth has dropped open, but you have no words to blather out. Your mouth snaps shut, the heat on your cheeks becoming too warm. A little frantically, you look from Tabaeus to Ewan. You're offered little solace from the werewolf, though. His green eyes are just as glinty as Tabaeus's, with a broad crooked grin on his lips.

In your chest, your heart pounds. Something akin to fear edges into your thoughts, though it's more pleasant, if no less anxiety-inducing.

Briefly, you consider pressing your hands to your face, hiding the growing blush. That would only amuse the two further, though. Which, again, makes that warm embarrassment sift through your body.

You just couldn't win. Especially while Tabaeus and Ewan look at you like that.

"Nevermind, go back to fighting each other," you mumble, shoving both of them away and scooting smack in the middle of them again. Albeit, this time, with a safe distance between them and you.

You hope the space will help to disperse the images your imagination is suddenly feeding you. Alas, it doesn't. But you still feel better with both of them being further away. Any closer, and they might sense the inappropriateness bleeding from your thoughts.

"No, no, I'm curious now, myself." Ewan leaned close again, his body heat licking up the side of your body, despite the denim jacket acting as a barrier. His voice dips low, a playful growl faintly tinging the edges, "Are you hoping to be sandwiched between us, in more ways than one?"

For once, Tabaeus doesn't snipe at Ewan. Miserably, you realize why. The two of them have found common ground in teasing you.

Of course, that would be what they bonded over.

"Alright, alright. Enough you two." Despite the obvious pink on your cheeks, you wave the two of them away. Thankfully, your eye catches on the waiter bringing out your meals. "Behave. Food's here."

As the waiter comes up to the table, laying out the meals, you can feel Ewan and Tabaeus exchange a look. A delighted smug air shoots between the two.

With steely determination, you keep your eyes on the waiter, shaking your head when asked if anything else was needed. Your companions mirror your need for anything else. A sigh of relief almost escapes you as they turn and leave. However, you are immediately aware of Ewan and Tabaeus.

They're both smiling at you, unspoken plots swimming in the air around them. If you focus, you wonder if you could sus out what is going on in both of their heads. However, you really don't want to know. You're willing to bet it would just make your mortifying flush intensify.

You shoot them both dirty looks as you unwrap your utensils from its napkin. "Don't make me regret tonight, you two."

"I would never!" Tabaeus presses a long-fingered hand to their chest, their scandalized expression comical.

Ewan reaches for his burger and, faintly, you realize his fingernails are long, well-kept, and sharp. Have they always been that way? He chuckles so deeply it makes your stomach quiver. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Valiantly, you try to ignore them and dig into your meal, as they share yet another look. From the corner of your eye, you see both of them grin at each other again.

A truce has been made.

At your expense.

#exo writing #exophilia #2nd pov #2nd person pov #monster lover #vampire #werewolf #monster x human #monster romance #vampire x human #werewolf x human #tabaeus #reader #ewan #amata #room & board #room and board #( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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