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dreamauri · 1 month

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♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part one max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

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One of the things Max Verstappen despises about being Max Verstappen is being Max Verstappen. Three time world champion, youngest race winner, mad max, f1 dominator, all the fame and media and people following him around. It's very hard to get a moment of peace or be treated normally. When people hear his name they either put on big smiles or ugly frowns. He hates the special treatment.

He misses when he could have a conversation without people recording or judging him. Without people whispering about him, or fake being his friend for whatever fame. When people would just spend time with him for the sake of spending time, or having a conversation for the sake of friendly socialization and conversation. Luckily though for the Dutch, in this day and age, Max could just enter a spare email in Discord and make a second lowkey account.

The pfp was a random photo of Max, a meme. Lowkey enough, Max decided after staring at the profile long enough before opening DiscoBoard. After scrolling and searching, he was dawned upon with a relatively small server with only 280 people online, surrounding sim racing. After he followed instructions on the welcome page like verifying he's not a robot and picking roles, he got his first ping.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max met you in August of 2022. The way you talked and messed around with him got him constantly checking his phone for notifications over the next months. The way you befriended him and were relaxed around him once the two of you got to know each other, it kept him sane. And although Max didn't really reveal a lot about himself except that his work required a lot of traveling and effort, you trusted him enough to share about your own life up in France, ranting about your weird encounters as an employee at Cisco.

The blonde’s favorite part about getting home was plopping in his gaming chair and switching his Discord accounts. Pulling his headphones on and navigating through the server, he joined the active voice chat. It was as if he was switching lives, turning off Max Verstappen to be an irrelevant 26 year old.

“A millioooon.” you sang like you always did, a nickname you’d given him since amilian sounded like a million.

“Laaaaa.” Max sang back with a chuckle before greeting the other acquaintances present on the call.

“How was your weekend?” You hummed.

“Same as always. Maybe a bit shittier this time.” He sighed, seeing you were on Gran Turismo from your shared screen.

“I’d love to beat up someone for you.” You always offer when he’s down. The blonde would laugh and shake his head even though you can’t see. You never cease to bring him a smile with your tone and jokes and hearty aura, despite being kilometers up north. "We're waiting for Josh to take a few rounds around spa, you wanna join?"

"Oh, yes please." friendly racing with no consequences, points or championship? just friends messing around and enjoying themselves? Yes please.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You see the new verstappen photos that just dropped, Mr. Max Verstappen nerd?" Max looked up from his phone, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at your dm chat where the two of you decided to move the call once everyone else put down the steering wheel for the night.

"This one is from Bahrain I think . . . you know, I'm starting to take a liking to him." Max rolled his eyes playfully at your words. "To be honest, I was kind of disappointed this weekend." Max rubbed his eyes, looking up at your profile picture.

"Why what happened?" He asked even though he probably knew all too well the events of the Australian grand prix.

"Max DNFed on the third or fifth lap." You sighed.

"Oh yeah?" Max hummed, pursing his lips, not wanting to recall the memories. "What's so bad about that? I thought you were a die hard Charles fan?" he asked.

"Excuse you, I'm a die hard Fernando fan." You joked in a sassy tone which pulled a chuckle from him.

"What is it about Max DNFing that is bothering you then?" Max himself asked, putting his phone down to concentrate on your voice.

"I just don't—" you sighed deeply. On your end of the call you rolled back in your chair, getting up and flopping on your bed with your phone in hand.

When you did answer his question, all Max heard was mumbles because your voice was muffled by your pillow. "Can't hear you, La. Aren't you happy about the Carlando podium? You were so happy about it last year."

"I am happy, I am. But Max . . . well Max . . . i don't know." you grumbled frustrated. "He's such a good driver, and deserves a lot— he works really really hard."

Max never thought he'd hear you talking about him like that. He'd usually hear other people on the server dissing him and cursing him. And although you were always mostly neutral with the drivers, the way you spoke about Max tonight melted his heart. It also felt very wrong.

While you turned and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling of your room, venting your feelings about a driver who you thought didn't know you existed, said driver folded his arms on his desk and leaned forward, resting his chin on his arms listening to you vent about how much you were amazed and proud even though you don't know him personally or him not being your favorite driver.

Max glanced up at his monitor as you sighed to gather your thoughts. "Sometimes when i look at him, he reminds me of myself. I never really got to go past karting, but for some reason I see a little bit of y/n in him."

"—Y/n?" He sat up hearing the name.

"I—" You face palmed upon the realization.

"Is that your name?" Max asked. You nodded briefly with a sigh but he couldn't see.

"Unfortunately." You sighed. "Weird name, I know—"

"I like it." He reassured. "It's not like Amilian is any better." he tried to lighten the mood, working slightly.

"A million." you giggled making him chuckle back.

"A million, " he repeated quieter, a small smile on his face as he leaned his chin back down on his arm.

Such a foolish thing to do, taking a liking to a woman you've never met.

Voice notes . . . ( my brain is like a zoo rn, starting projects and not being able to track anything while working on everything at the same time )Word count - ( 1, 165 ) credits for proof reading -> @classiclitfreak (check out their blog!!)

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tarjapearce · 9 months

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Mi Dulce Cereza (Pt. 4)

Ranchero AU! Miguel x f! Reader

WARNINGS: clasism, Telenovela level Drama, fluff.

Summary: Against all odds, a new life starts ahead with Miguel.

Intro:

Ever since Miguel had came into your life, it felt like a new perspective of how to truly live was revealed to you. He was a simple yet hardworking man. He was everything you weren't. An opposite really.

He had his temper, he knew hardwork possibly from a young age, he knew patience, he knew how to enjoy the little things and appreciate them. He enjoyed his life, his work. Enjoyed you.

Contrary to him, you were sometimes spoiled, Luis your horse was the proof, you were treated like a porcelain doll and not allowed to do hard work, possibly getting too comfortable in the fact that you'd always have what you currently did, you were a socialité, an expensive doll according to some rejected marriage prospects, that if you wished you could get a whole stable full of horses within days.

And of course, the Pastor's daughter. You were immaculate, pure and a perfect soon to be wife. You didn't know hardships, the only outstanding thing that made you "different" was your good aim at shooting. Your ex fiancé, a man from another wealthy family, was the one that taught you that out of boredom. He was the only most exciting thing that had happened in your life so far.

Till Miguel came.

He had swooped off your feet, showed and taught you so many things you were good at, but none really had taken their time to teach you. Not that he minded you being a spoiled princess, like some workers called you behind your back. You liked animals, being around them, but your ever perfect mother was always prying you from that. From anything that involved looking imperfect really.

Ah your mother.

The natural enemy of everything Miguel rendered. Perfectionist, shallow, clasist, oh but never racist. Like if that feature alone saved her from the rest of her twisted virtues. She took her role as a socialité seriously, more than you ever did. Parties were the only sort of meaningful thing you had, you could have fun, be yourself for a bit and forget about being the Pastor's daughter and setting the example within your circle, as usual.

Not that you minded, God and church had always played a huge part of your life ever since you had conscience. But in reality, you never really meddled too much in it, it was just for the sake of pretense.

Pretension, that's what your life really was about.

Friends weren't really friends, just acquaintances that you stumbled upon often, playing their part in the game of conceit. Just approaching you when they needed something, like everyone really. Your father was always busy, more married to church than your own mother. You didn't know if your mother resented it, neither cared.

All you could think was how this tall, tanned, strong, mulish, resolute, terse of a man was gentle, loving, unabashedly in love and oh so hot and bothered for you. You still couldn't quite believe that he was in love. At first you thought it was a game, something to just get his spite out from the constant implicit belittling your mom and sometimes your dad partook in.

But the way he held you, the way he looked at you, kissed you, touched you, made love to you, had proved you wrong. He knew what he wanted out of life.

"Solo imagínate, Cerecita. Tú, yo, una gran finca, muchos animales e hijos." (Just Imagine, Cerecita. You, me, a large estate, lots of animals and kids.)

He used to dream about it during pillow talk. You'd lie on his chest while he talked about his dreams, and the very thought would make you giggle and kick your feet.

Miguel was a certified farm manager. After all, you parents estate produced pure breed horses, foods like cheeses, milk and seeds.

You knew how to manage the food area since, your mother though it suited you more, instead of having back breaking and skin burnt jobs like the men. But once you entered the mid twenties, your 'work' turned strictly executive. Helping your parents with the office automation of the whole management.

So far a good job, but you knew it was only a deceit to make you look more suitable for those that showed the littlest of interest in you. Sometimes you felt your parents were offering your hand in marriage to anyone with enough money on their pockets.

Although their steadfast resolution to get you a good husband never died, you didn't want any strangers and play date with them. You wanted Miguel.

He had treated you like a normal person, not like a China doll, not someone fragile. He taught you things that you didn't even know you could do. You were good at gardening, feeding the animals, small little tasks that people around you had denied or thought you too dumb to do.

He had expanded your prospect of just being a trophy wife. You were always learning from him, but soon, harvest season and renovations around the farm started and you saw him led You also had your own share of work.

Work that somehow had made your stress levels to rise so high that your period had been delayed. You still wished that you could repeat the last session you had in his room in the barn weeks ago. The mere though of his display of prowess in bed had made you clench.

No other man could compare him really. You sometimes daydreamed about having more time alone with him, talking about your fears and hopes, everything that made you both who you were.

But a hurling wave of nauseas shot through your system as you rushed to your bathroom, emptiying your stomach's content down the toilet. And still no sign of your period.

---

You thought that avoiding certain foods would actually make the sickness that sat heavily on your stomach to go away, but it had only turned worse. You'd have these spasms of nausea through the day. And your suspicions only grew one day that one of your friends had gotten an apple pie nearby you. The smell so pungent to your senses that made you retch a little while after.

"Migraines for the strongest smells are the worst" one of them commented, trying to not pry too much on the obvious. It wasn't the time to prey on gossip.

------

You had woken up nauseous and queasy, for the third time in a row, at this point your mother was concerned. Had something made you sick? Food poisoning?

Of course the kitchen staff would hear a mouthful of her concern. She was stricter regarding the way your foods were made. Unavoidable realization hit harder than your mother swatting your head when you ogled at Miguel a second too longer.

Swallowing hard after retching in the bathroom again, the moment you smelled your morning soup, filled your eyes with tears.

How could you not notice? How could've you be so stupid? Sure stress had made you sometimes cause an anomaly in your cycle, and you though it was the case, but seeing the two positive parallel lines on the pregnancy test, only made your eyes turn glossier and wet.

You were pregnant.

Almost two months and counting. You barely had the chance of seeing Miguel anymore. Oh, Miguel. What would he think of it? Would he be mad? Sure you were his girl, but nothing else had been spoken further. Would he still want you?

God, you were so scared. You knew how your parents thought of him, and for all you knew, they still thought you were pure, immaculate, a good example to every lady in the little town.

They'll find out.

Of course they would. Sooner or later they'd find out. Probably kick him out and you'd be forced to marry a guy that looked like him to make pass the child as his. Right?

No. Your parents wouldn't be that bad. Nah, knowing how your father had done so many shotgun weddings because of sinful pregnancies told you that everything was possible. They were none to be underestimated. The thought scared you shitless, so you washed your mouth, bathed, got dressed and went to him.

The more you approached the antsier you got. He was talking to another helper, the talks of a new mare being brought spreaded through fast in the estate. However upon noticing you, he cut the conversation short and came to you. Like a magnet.

His smile faltered when your whole frame came into view, solemn look, and red nose by the constant sniffling.

"Hey, hey. Come here. ¿Qué le pasa a mi chula?" (What's wrong, gorgeous?)

You whimpered and buried your face in his chest. He held you tightly.

"It's fine, yeah? Wanna talk about it?"

You clung to him.

"You mom got you on another date?" He rolled his eyes and you shook your head with a shaky sob.

"Your dad tried to sell Luis again?" Another shake of your head.

"Then what is it? You gotta tell me, princesa."

He cupped your face gently and wiped your tears.

"I..." You hiccuped, "I think I'm pregnant."

You could feel him tense and he made you look at him directly. A glint in his eyes shining brighter than when he was popping your cherry.

"¿Voy a ser papá?" (Am I gonna be a dad?)

He questioned with a excited yet strained voice. You just stared at him and he kissed you, deeply.

"¡Me vas a hacer papá!" (You're making me a dad!)

His hands shook you softly. He could stop marveling at the fact that finally one of his dreams were coming true. But you seemed off, shut off to his joy.

"Why... Why are you crying? You don't... want it?

" No, no. It's not that, Miguel. I'm... scared. I'm so scared" You sniffed and he kissed your forehead.

"Dad will kill you."

He chuckled and nodded

"Might as well chase me down with a gun." His hand was placed on your lower belly.

"He might kick you out and..." You hiccuped and he just held you with a smile.

" Ps, que me eche. And if... things get bad, you'll come with me. Okay?" He squeezed you tightly and grunted happily, "Dios te vas a ver preciosa con esa panza toda grandota y redonda. Te voy a cuidar, vas a ser mi reina. Ya vas a ver."

(He can do that.) (God, you'll look gorgeous with that big and round belly. Imma take care of you, you'll be my queen. You'll see.)

He just kept rambling things you couldn't understand, but seeing him overjoyed made your aching heart to relax.

"I'll talk to him. I... Le voy a pedir tu mano." (Imma ask him your hand in marriage)

"W-What? are you sure of it?"

"You thought I was kidding when I told you that I wanted you for myself?"

His eyes softened

"I might not have much, or give you this kind of life you're so used to, yet, but... You have me. I want this with you." The steadfastness in his words made your heart leap and flutter.

"What if he says no?"

"You're coming with me anyways. Can't leave my future wife here knowing what they are capable of."

"God help us. Mom will be...-"

"Don't worry your pretty head over it."

"I do worry. She's... you know how she is. And what he thinks of you."

"Eso es lo de menos." (That's the least of my concerns)

"How far are you?"

"Seven weeks."

He cradled you. Arms full of love and devotion.

"They're coming back tomorrow"

"I know. Pack whatever you think is worth packing, and try to rest."

He slept with a smile on his face that night.

-----

"Papa?" You knocked and he called you in. Miguel awaited outside the office. To your surprise your mother was with him, discussing something. Mid day sun hid behind heavy dark clouds.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I... eh. Wanna talk to you both."

"Oh?"

"You alright, Mija?"

You nodded and sighed.

"You know how... you are always talking about me getting married, serving in church and the like, right?"

"Of course dear. We wouldn't want it other way."

Your mother gasped as excitement crossed her features

"You... You want to get married?! Oh dear.! I thought I ever hear that from you! I was growing concerned, really. Thought that... farm boy had done something to you."

"Mom-"

"I know he is wicked!"

"Let her speak. Don't take inspiration from her." your dad grumbled and the nausea crept up to you. Maybe it wasn't a good idea, but you were already here and see this through.

"What kind of man you both envision for me?"

"A hardworking one, that fears God, that treats you like we have, spoils you, that he knows your worth."

Ironically they had described most of Miguel's traits.

"Someone who knows that you aren't cheap. That isn't afraid of investing on you like you deserve"

Someone wealthy, of course that's what your mom would say.

"What about someone different?" Your hands fiddled nervously as your eye casted down.

"Different how, sweetie? You deserve better. Not different."

"Maybe I do want different, Papa"

Your name was chided as he looked at you with sternness.

"Different how?"

Sighing you stood and motioned for Miguel to approach. Your parents face fell instantly as he crossed the door.

"W-What is this?" You mother mumbled with a gasp as you sat with Miguel across your parents, entwining your fingers together.

"You're always saying that... You want a hard working man for me, right?"

"Yes, but not him." your dad nearly hissed through gritted teeth, "Do you know how many others are waiting for you to just look their way?"

Miguel chuckled and removed his hat.

"Too bad for them" You grumbled.

"Sir, suegrito, with all due respect your daughter-" (Father in law)

"Jesus Christ... How can you be so condescending?! Know your place!" Your mother shrieked.

Miguel's eye twitched slowly but remained shut.

"You think you can give her what we have? What could possibly a man such as yourself could provide her?"

"More than all those pretty boys that parade around but are useless for working, that's for sure."

"We'll too bad, cause she's already settled for another date!"

"I don't want another of your dates, mom."

"What did you just say to me, little brat?!"

"That I don't want dates! They're boring, they always talk about money and they're so shallow! I have enough of that kind of people"

Your mother prayed as your father rubbed his face in frustration.

"Like... You're always saying how you want the best for me, how you want a hardworking man for me. Miguel is that. He just... he is so smart and has given me a chance to try things I have never done before! I am good at things you said I wasn't! He... he loves me."

His grip on your hand tightened for a bit, reassuringly despite your mother's mocking cackling.

" He loves you?! Cariño... He's only been here for six months and you think this... man, loves you? Don't be ridiculous. He just wants your money. You think I don't know people like him?!"

Your eyes were slowly drooping and blurring with angry tears.

"Evidently not, cause if you gave him a chance to-"

"Never. You are not staying with him. Look at you, sweetie. You are pretty, you are young! Rich! You can have anyone you want"

"If that's so, won't you let me have him then?"

"This is just another of your whims. You're dragging him to this." You dad gestured to Miguel.

"It's not! I'm old enough to make my own choices-"

"And what could you possibly know about life?"

"Certainly more than you actually think. And I would've known more if all this time you wouldn't have treated me like I was fragile and stupid! I wanna be more than just... a stupid trophy wife"

"What would be the difference with him?"

"That he actually teaches me how to work, dad. I know I am pretty, but that won't take me far. Beauty fades, but... knowledge in life is something you earn, that you shape. And Miguel has helped me realize that. That's why I love him."

"You don't love none-"

"Don't project on me, mom."

Her dolled up eyes widened in disbelief at your words.

"You brat!"

"Look at you. Is this what he has taught you as well? To disrespect your mother?"

"Oh please! Don't talk about respect when even you at times give him a bad time unnecessarily. Look at what he has done so far! Look at Agustín! None wanted to be near him and you even wanted to sacrifice him cause you couldn't handle him!"

"This conversation is getting tiring."

Your stomach bubbled.

"I will marry him. With or without your blessing."

"No. You won't cause you will marry a decent man! Not this... This..."

"Say it" Miguel growled as his arms crossed. He'd do things his way anyways. He was just being civil and respectful enough about the whole thing.

"A Nobody" His fist clenched.

"Stop." You stood in between them, "Stop." your tone warning.

"Or what? Just imagine the scandal!! You are shaming us! What would the people say?!"

"Shame us? Are you serious right now? You deserve to be shamed! You profess about God and his love at your church and how much we gotta love eachother yet you treat people like shit. You specially mom."

A slap. Hard, burning in your face.

Shock plastered in your crying face, Miguel stood and prowled your way, your mother recoiled at him approaching.

"See? You can't teach me about love cause you love none!" Miguel held you in his arms as you tried to get to your mom.

"Take all the money from me if you want, but I refuse to marry someone for the money like you did. I refuse to be like you and this loveless marriage you have!"

Now it was his turn to try and stop your mother getting at you. Your dad shot in the air, startling everyone in the room. The rushed steps of people outside scattered around. Even the staff could hear everything that was happening.

"Don't touch me!" She pried herself away from him.

All the emotions made your head spin, Miguel pushed gently your mother away to hold your careening form before you could actually collapse.

"Cerecita!" You held onto him, then held your mouth. You guided him to your dad's office bathroom to just spill the contents of your upset stomach.

"Dios mío..." The annoying voice that always belittled him broke, realizing what was going on right away.

"No... No no. You... You couldn't. Why?!"

Your mother shrieked in horror. So many emotions were going through your father's face. Disappointment and a silent rage. The latter aimed at Miguel.

"¡Ya cállese, señora!" (Just shut up already) Miguel roared and your mother stood frozen in the spot. Too angry and stunned to actually do something.

Miguel helped to clean up after yourself, then you stood, facing your parents. You had expected them opposing, but not this bad. Not like this.

"Are you okay?" His eyes softened as he cupped your cheeks with concern. You just nodded, still feeling weak.

"I'll marry him. And that's not up to discussion. And I will do it, with or without your blessing. Understood?"

"Since you are making your own decisions now, I'll have to ask you to pack your things and leave tomorrow morning with your... man. You want to get married? So be it. You see... When you are going to venture in these sort of things, a house on your own its the first thing you must have.-"

"Don't worry about that, Patrón." Miguel's voice laced with venom, "It might not be like this pompous state, but at least it's mine. And none shall ever disrespect her or me again."

"You're fired."

Miguel smirked

"I expect my complete payment in my account then. Wouldn't like to return for a check."

You were taken to your room by some of the staff. As they prepared you something to eat. Your mother, Rosaura, was long gone from the scene.

"Too bad you're too stuck up to actually see that I did try and make the right thing with your daughter. I might not be what you wanted for her, but... I am what she wants and that's more than enough for me, sir." Miguel's voice only matched the steely glare your father made his way.

"Don't expect to see your grandchild."

"Don't worry. That wretched child is none of my concern"

"No le escupa al cielo, suegrito." (Don't spit to the sky)

His tone a warning as he tipped his hat and left.

-------

Morning came and some people of the staff were helping you pack things, Pastor William refused to wed you. Rosaura had barely showed up, just gave you a quick despising glare.

"You're really leaving miss?"

"Yeah. I can't stay here."

"Wouldn't that be harmful for the baby?"

You shook your head.

"It'll hurt more if I stay."

"We'll miss you."

"I'll miss you guys too. Thanks for... teaching me so much."

Your dad was a silent spectator, Miguel helped to put your things in his old truck. There was a genuine smile on your face everytime you looked at your future husband. William could've married you, but of course he was petty. For once your words had marked him.

It wasn't easy for Miguel either, Agustín seemed restless that day.

"I'll come for my horse later." You spoke as you gave the last suitcase at Miguel. William just gave you a dismissing nod.

Words were stuck in his mouth. He had never seen you this determined towards something. A sudden change he truly wasn't used to. Changes didn't sit well at all to him.

You didn't look back, instead just got in the car with Miguel and left. Leaving everything you knew behind. the thrill of a new adventure buzzing through your body. Miguel took your hand and kissed it with a puppy love eyes.

"Let's get married, Cerecita."

----

Taglist:

@thebettybook @allysunny @v4leoftears @brooklynscherry-z @lovingarcardeprincess @pinkiemme @bigbassbug @ceoofmiguel @loonalockley @nine-of-cherries @saph-cyare @mintqueenjo @arrozleche

Sorry if I forgot someone 😅

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Miguel Ranchero #t writes✨#telenovela fic #Spotify

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erisenyo · 5 months

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“Oh fuck oh FUCK” + Zukka please!

For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (And this one too lol)

Zuko isn’t sure what posses him to actually say yes when the last hotel calls back to regretfully confirm that there will be no vacancies tonight and the cute mechanic lets up the truly over-the-top flirting to half-shyly offer Zuko a place to stay that night—

“Well, not my house,” Sokka—not Hakoda, going by the wince when Zuko had called him that, even though that’s what’s embroidered over his pocket—says, tugging on his wolf tail, “It’s my dad’s house. But he’s away!” Sokka says, excited and quickly tacking on when he seems to hear himself, “He’s helping out my Gran Gran! So I’m house-sitting! And keeping this place going—”

He waves a hand around the auto shop, making Zuko intensely curious about what Sokka does if not this all the time. He looks good in those overalls...

Not that Zuko has the chance to ask.

“—and so don’t worry, there’s plenty of space. I’m not suggesting you stay in my room—or, well, actually it is my room, but from when I was a kid, not you know, my room. I don’t live there anymore—”

Zuko wonders where he does live, if it’s close to the band’s recording studio, or any of their homes, and Ty Lee is always renting apartments all over the place maybe Zuko could—

“—but it’s still a totally good room still, like quiet but not creepily so, you know? And you can stay there. Or not! Absolutely no pressure, like obviously if you want to keep calling hotels or I mean I guess we could make up the couch in the office, though I wouldn’t recommend it," Sokka adds, frowning at the couch in question. "You end up with this really weird crick in your—”

“Yes,” Zuko interrupts, "Yes, a place to say would be great," he says, putting Sokka out of his misery. Even though he’s been enjoying the rambling train of Sokka’s thoughts all day, and he really shouldn’t impose, and Zuko might feel comfortable after so many hours of Sokka trying to figure out Zuko’s car but he doesn’t actually know the guy, and—

Sokka breaks into a grin, wide and pleased and clearly delighted and Zuko’s stomach flips the way it’s been doing all day and right. Right. That. That’s why Zuko said yes, even though he knows it’s stupid, even though it would be easier to just ask for the guy’s number even if as a rule Zuko doesn’t give out his own. Even though Mai would take one look at Sokka and give Zuko one of those knowing looks of hers and he hates being so predictable but shit, this guy is such his type.

Which means he’s not disappointed when Sokka says, “Awesome, dude! We can grab burritos on the way back!”

Dude.

And burritos.

But Zuko’s not disappointed, he’s not. He’s…relieved. To have a place to stay tonight that’s not a dubious-looking couch, or the back of his own barely-fits-two-people car. And to not be recognized—not that he ever is—because the last thing he needs on top of his car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, meaning he’s absolutely going to miss his flight—shit, Uncle is going to be so disappointed…—is to be dealing with fans.

Pestering him for info about the rest of the Dangerous Ladies, or trying to sniff out rumors about the relationships they’re all convinced are happening within the band, or hating him for breaking Mai’s heart as if it wasn’t mutual and years ago anyway. and they’re still in the band so clearly it’s fine, Mai didn’t even write that song, and—

And it’s fine. Zuko doesn’t even know what he was worried about in the first place. For someone with a massive facial scar, he's proven shockingly unrecognizable without a flaming guitar in his hands. Which is fine. Exactly how he likes it.

So what if he almost never gets his own posters of magazine covers? So what if he's tucked off to the side or in the back of all the official merch and the band has a running collection of all the albums and magazine covers and t-shirts that inexplicably end up with a price sticker over his and only his face?

It’s better than getting mobbed every time he leaves the house like Azula and getting pelted with rumors like Ty Lee and having his every expression scrutinized like Mai. It's better than having every outfit analyzed and every tilt of his head breathlessly redescribed and every photo and appearance and sighting on the street turned into screenshots and phone backgrounds and gif sets and spank bank material, better than everyone he meets tripping to fall into his bed and—

Really. It’s better.

“Here it is, the humble abode!” Sokka gives Zuko an uncertain flash of a smile as holds open the door, like he thinks someone who drives a Porsche so tricked out Sokka had had to psych himself up to actually touch it is going to judge a well-loved ranch house, which…well. Maybe isn’t such a bad assumption.

Zuko hastily makes sure his expression is set into something attentive and interested, his June is talking face, as Azula calls it.

“You’ve got your kitchen here,” Sokka says, flicking on a light to show the worn, comfortable-looking space. “Glasses are over the sink, snacks are in the fridge and in the tall cabinet if you need anything. There’s some leftovers in the freezer you can reheat, too, if you want. Oven, microwave, all the good stuff, you just, you know. Hit the buttons, and—”

And Sokka is clearly back to nervous rambling, because Zuko doesn’t think he’s going to need to eat for the rest of the week after finishing that burrito. A fucking burrito. Ugh, if there’s ever a less sexy food, and then to eat so much of it nervously pacing Sokka that Zuko actually contemplated whether he could subtly unbutton his jeans in the car…

“…and the bedrooms are this way, and the bathroom—it’s shared, sorry,” Sokka adds, glancing back to give Zuko an apologetic look. Zuko hastily jerks his eyes up off Sokka’s ass. “Probably not what you’re used to, I know. But it’s just you and me, so it won’t be too bad!”

“It’s perfect,” Zuko says, trying for a smile and blinking when Sokka just coughs, a blush staining his cheeks as he quickly gets back to his tour.

“Extra blankets and stuff are here,” Sokka says, rapping on a closed door. “Towels, pillows, the works. There should be some extra shampoo and soap and stuff in there too, if you need it.”

“Sounds like you have everything covered,” Zuko says, hearing the awkward edge of his words but still trying to reach for some of the joking, playful easiness of earlier today. “Quite the full-service auto shop you’re running.”

“Uh…yeah.” Sokka freezes a little, eyes wide, which…great. Zuko isn’t surprised he missed the mark, but still. He thought he’s at least better these days than when Azula firmly told him he was no longer allowed to speak in interviews until he could be sure he wasn’t going to end up in another bloopers reel.

“Anyway!” Sokka finally says, shaking himself, his voice coming out suddenly squeaky, which— “Here’s your room, have a good night, make yourself comfy I’ll seeyoutomorrow!”

Zuko blinks again, nonplussed. Did Sokka just...run away? In his own home?

"That's that then," Zuko sighs ruefully—the flirting had been so outrageous that Zuko couldn’t quite believe it was actually real, so—giving the closed door Sokka had disappeared behind one last look before slipping into his room.

Which is very much a teenager’s room, holy—Zuko nearly laughs as he realizes why Sokka was so quick to make that clear. And a well-lived in one, at that, LEGOs on the shelves and cheap trophies for science fairs lined up across the dresser, half-faded posters and clipped-out pictures tacked over the walls and old art supplies still scattered over the desk.

It's cluttered and eclectic and...cute. Cute in the same way Sokka is cute, and he’d probably hate being called that which just makes Zuko want to do it even more, Zuko’s lips curled again into the little smile he feels like he's been wearing all day as he sprawls back on the neatly-made twin bed and immediately makes eye contact with himself.

On the ceiling.

Shirtless.

Life-sized.

Zuko’s mind immediately supplies the details—that Rolling Stones cover shoot for their third album, right before Zuko had turned twenty, when he was still somehow managing to keep up his martial arts training because who needed sleep, definitely not him. He and Ty Lee had been goofing off while Mai and Azula got their makeup finished, flexing their muscles and trying to out-flexible each other and the photographer had loved it and had them run with it, who could pose the most creatively with the most outrageously flexed muscles and —

Zuko slowly closes his mouth and rapidly reconsiders that whole ‘not recognized’ thing...

Sokka is giving his teeth the most thorough, most frustrated brush of his life—ugh, burritos. Why did he suggest burritos—when he nearly chokes on his toothpaste as he suddenly realizes that he just put Zuko Hua in his— “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.”

Oh…fuck.

Katara is never going to let him live this down.

He is so, so fucked.

#asks and answers #prompt games #Not me suddenly having inspiration that fit uhhh 3 months later lol #fic writing #my writing #Sokka #Zuko #Zukka #Zukka fic #Rockstar Zuko AU

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empressofthesunwriter · 19 days

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Change the Narrative

If people knew the truth, they would call her a selfish monster.

But Katara had sacrificed anything for the world, for an ungrateful husband!

This time she would always choose herself first!

Here is a little one-shot of my anger about what happened to Katara in canon.

I want to give her the end she deserves, so I hope you enjoy it!

Katara knew it was time for her to die.

She felt it in her old bones.

Alone she lay in her bed at the South Pole and watched how the snow was falling.

At least she would die seeing the beauty of her homeland.

It was a good death.

The old woman blinked tears away and tried to be positive about her nearing death.

She would see Sokka, her father, her mother and Gran-Gran again.

It was good.

She had lived a long happy life.

Something burning and unsettling spread through her chest as she thought this.

Was it a happy life?

How often did she and Aang argue over simple things?

How often did she beg him not to play favourites with Tenzin? Yes, their youngest was an airbender, but what about Bumi and Kya? They were his children too.

But no!

The Air Nomad legacy was more important than their two oldest children and their pain.

Once upon a time when she was a young girl and fantasized about the man and family one day she would have, she never would have guessed how she became the kind of mother, who didn't fight for her children.

Who didn't call out her husband for his wrongdoings?

However, she had so with Aang. Since she had met him, she always had mothered him, shielded him from things which didn't fit his narrative.

He was the Avatar, the only hope to end the war, with a track record of running away.

They couldn't lose him, so she had protected him the best she could.

And she did so to her children.

No wonder Bumi and Kya didn't even visit her and Tenzin didn't have much of a relationship with her.

Where did she go wrong in her life?

When did she become a shadow of herself in the name of love?

Why did she even choose Aang?

Was it because of Aunt Wu's prediction, she would marry a powerful bender or because she had a feeling Aang...deserved her?

He loved her and had ended the war.

Was it so bad to give him a chance?

Sadly after sacrificing her best years for him and being rewarded to die alone without her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren around her, it may have been the most stupid decision she ever made.

Spirits, was she a bad person to think that?

She loved her family, really she did, but deep down she had to admit...she wouldn't do it a second time.

Katara wouldn't sacrifice herself, her ideals, and her dreams for Aang's dream.

She had her whole life given and given and was now at the end of it rewarded with nothing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she slowly closed her eyes.

Soon she would join her loved ones...

Just...

If she could...

If the spirits were so kind...

If dear Yue heard her...

She wanted a second chance.

She wanted to live a life for herself and herself alone.

Katara had given in this life all and more...was it so bad that she wished for a second chance to get it this time right?

Was she selfish?

Maybe.

Surely.

But anyone had a point in their life where they had to put themselves first.

Her only regret was that she did not realise it sooner.

Katara closed her eyes and felt the last beats of her heart.

Never noting how the moon was shining brightly down at her...

***

She felt pain in her head.

Katara hissed and touched her forehead.

Why did she get a headache?

Where was she?

She blinked to banish the shadows before her eyes.

Slowly she could see.

Ah yes.

She was outside General Iroh's tea shop in Ba Sing Se.

The waterbender had seen Aang walk out and wanted to join him.

It was high time that she gave Aang her answer about them being a couple.

She had been unsure a few days ago, but now with the war over...why shouldn't she give him a chance?

He was standing at the balustrade watching the setting sun, it was the perfect moment.

As the waterbender made her first step towards him, an avalanche of emotions and vision filled her whole being.

Katara gasped quietly, trying to make sense of this.

It was too fast and also too slow...however, she felt it in her bones...whatever she had planned kissing Aang and getting together with him...it would be the worst decision of her life!

No, she didn't want what she had seen.

How could she sell herself, her principals, and her honour for a guy?!

How could she be together with someone who would play favourites with their children?!

No, absolutely not!

Whether this was a vision from the future to save her from this faith Katara didn't know, but what she knew she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice!

So angry she walked up to Aang and tapped his shoulder.

The Avatar turned smiling towards her. He seemed so happy and hopeful and looked at her like she had hung the stars and the moon.

For a second she flatter, which only made the vision come forth again and made her anger tenfold.

Oh no!

Not with her!

"Aang.", she began. "I don't love you and I never will! Stop pestering me about us being a couple! If you don't accept my feelings I will waterwhip you do your next incarnation, do you understand me?!"

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. She could formally see the heartbreak in his eyes and how he tried to speak up, maybe to guilt trip her, however, she wasn't having anything of it.

"Nothing you will say and do will ever change my mind! So don't even try. I will go back with Sokka to the South Pole and rebuild my home. That's where I belong!"

Dramatically she turned around and entered the tea shop again.

The others tried their hardest to seem like they hadn't listened in, yet Katara saw through them.

She sends them all an annoyed look.

"What?!"

No one said anything for a few seconds before Toph snickered: "Oh sugar queen, I hoped you had it in you."

This makes Katara smile.

***

The next months of her life Katara rebuilt with her father and Sokka their home.

The Nothern Watertribe had tried to turn the South into a second North, except Katara was having none of it.

As a war hero, master waterbender and daughter of the chief she used all her power to stop this chances.

She was a force of nature!

No one had a chance against her.

Her family was so proud of her and she was satisfied with herself.

Yes, this was where she belonged.

Helping people and not being the soulless, passionless arm candy of Aang!

Katara was happy.

A voice inside her told her how she deserved it.

***

A year later found Katara as ambassador for her people at the first peace summit.

She was happy seeing Zuko again, they had written to each other, yet seeing each other in person was much better.

He had become her best friend.

And her wall against Aang.

As Avatar he was at the peace summit too. Of course, he tried to talk with her. Tried to sway her, saying he missed her and wanted to be friends again.

She saw right through him. Aang still wanted her.

Thank the spirits for Zuko having her back and distracting Aang.

When they enjoyed together a cup of tea in General Iroh's tea shop she thanked him for his help.

Awkwardly he waved it away.

It was nothing.

He and Mai had broken up and the black-haired girl wasn't happy about it.

Even if she and Aang weren't exes, Zuko knew how frustrating it was to have a person follow you like a shadow and demand to be together again.

In comfort, she petted Zuko's hand and told him he did the right thing to end things with Mai.

If she couldn't accept a no was she a good girlfriend?

A little crooked smile formed on Zuko's lips, and her heart stopped for a second, as he thanked her for her words and friendships.

Then he asked her to join him in the search for his mother.

***

Being with Zuko on a life-changing field trip again was... exciting.

They still worked flawlessly together, like when they had hunted down the murder of her mother, but now they were friends.

It changed a lot of interactions.

They were playful with each other.

Zuko was the only one who ever laughed at her jokes.

They were there for each other.

In the long days when they hunted down one clue after another and Zuko seemed to lose hope, Katara reminded him to never give up.

They shared the workload.

It was amazing not mothering someone and having someone help her around camp.

They were getting closer to each other.

They shared things they never told anyone.

Zuko told her how he got his scar and Katara hugged him, wishing Aang had killed Ozai.

Wishing Ozai was before her and making him pay for hurting her best friend!

Sometimes they just stared at the stars, inventing constellations, their hands inching closer.

Something new was born between them.

Katara didn't know what it was, but she would enjoy it.

It made her feel good.

After weeks on the road, they finally found Ursa.

And also a society of hiding airbenders.

Katara couldn't help but laugh in utter glee.

***

Was it really that surprising that Katara and Zuko fell in love with each other after their journey?

When she kissed Zuko for the first time, it was like coming home.

Warm, welcome, familair, intim.

It was the best sensation in the world.

Something inside her told her this was how it was supposed to be.

After two years of dating and being the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe in the Fire Nation, they married.

All their friends and half of the world were invited.

Yes, even Aang.

Aang was so grateful to Katara and Zuko for having found his people and was busy with the air nomads to rebuild their society, and seemed to finally let go of Katara.

Now they really could be friends.

***

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, master bender, war hero and Fire Lady became a living legend.

Not only the people in the Fire Nation adored her, but she used the power she wielded to make the whole world a better place.

She was the one who came up with the idea of Republic City, a place where all nations could live in harmony.

She revolutionized the art of healing with her bloodbending.

She installed fountains and aqueducts everywhere she could, so people had clean water.

Statues were built and universities, streets even neighbourhoods were named in her honour.

Katara taught new generations of waterbenders like her daughter Kya and people formally fought over to learn from the Fire Lady.

When their oldest daughter Izumi became Fire Lady, Katara and Zuko retired to Ember Island to live out their twilight years in peace.

They often had visits from their friends and families.

Their son Lu Ten, a nonbender, had married a waterbender named Mizuki and had with her five children.

So the proud grandparents helped their son and daughter-in-law raise the rascals.

It was fulfilling.

As Aang then died and was reborn as Korra from the Southern Water Tribe Katara and Zuko moved to the South to teach the new Avatar.

Korra loved Katara and Zuko like grandparents and loved hearing about their adventures.

After Korra goes to Republic City to learn airbending from one of Aang's sons he had with one of the hiding airbenders, the pair returns to Ember Island.

Zuko died a few months before her.

Katara followed him after the birth of their third great-grandchild.

Both died surrounded by their big and bustling family.

As Katara died, her oldest great-granddaughter, who was named after her held her hand, she couldn't help but feel happy.

She had lived a long and wonderful life.

Soon she would be together again with her beloved husband and her family.

And so the greatest and most beloved Fire Lady died in peace with no regrets in her heart, her story being told for thousands of years to come.

***

The Legend of Katara became a tale which young girls loved.

From a simple waterbender to a master, war hero and ruler over a nation, who changed the world only a few ever could.

It showed all girls, that they could do anything they wanted.

They could reach their goals and go even beyond.

This was Katara's legacy.

As it should have been.

If you liked this one-shot and want more Zutara, a badass OC, personal growth for Aang and the Gaang being amazing check out Yin and Yang!

Click on my profile and leave a comment.

I hope you liked this little One-Shot!

Let’s now scream together in the comment section how Katara deserved better and if it’s not canon we will give it to her in fanon! :D

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ja3honey · 1 year

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❝𝐇𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝!𝐎𝐭𝟖 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝❞

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Hybrid!Ateez wants to breed their mate in order to start a family.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.26k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Smut, Suggestive, Fluff, Angst.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Ateez Hybrid Members x Hybrid Bunny Readers

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : mention of a nest. Hints of car sex. Hints of bathroom sex. Seonghwa is a sucker for cockwarming. Yeosang just wants to see you full with his um...cum... Swearing. Sans reaction is a little bit more angsty. Woops. Accidental pregnancy. Getting pregnant out of spite. Some shitty talking about shitty family.

Note : I hope you enjoy this request. And also to the lovely darling that sent in the request, I hope it's okay that i made it more on the line of family rather than just a breeding kink. I was feeling sappy, ahaha.

Masterlist | Navigation

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 - 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞

Hongjoong always knew he wanted kids the moment he became a leader. His dream was to be labelled a strong leader and have a powerful son or daughter to prove it. So when one of your heats came around, he was surprised and also glad it was during his mating season. And from what he was told when a bonded pair was going into heat at the same time, it meant perfect breeding time. And he was going to make the most of this situation. Pampering you, making you comfortable in your nest before using his strength to completely ruin you in the soft sheets over and over again until you were nice and full of his knot.

“You’re going to look so beautiful carrying around our foals, baby. Like the goddess you are.”

𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚 - 𝐒𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞

Hwa is another hybrid who grew up dreaming of the idea of having his own little ones running around. He had to have four since it was the perfect number, but he also wouldn’t be mad if he had more. His parents were also thrilled with the idea of having gran-babies, so after you and Seonghwa got married, he planned to make your honeymoon full of nothing but babymaking. The wasn’t a time when Seonghwa wasn’t dotting on you, romantic dinner ended up fucking in the car on the way to the hotel. Bath time resulted in water going everywhere as he trusted harsher into you. And when you were going to sleep he made sure to keep you laying on his cock. His words were;

“if my cock stays inside you, none of my cum will leak out and it will give us more chance of you getting pregnant”

𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 - 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐫

Now, it wasn’t cause Yeosang wanted kids, but it was just the idea of you being pregnant that made him so goddamn hard. Cause little did you know, he had a big breeding kink, the idea of claiming you in more than one way made his heart skip, and his cock so hard it aches. He overheard you the other day about wanting kids and you weren't if it was even possible, your human friends had said it should work but maybe asking Yeosang for guidance, but you were worried he wouldn’t want kids. Oh boy, you were very wrong. He was going to make sure he pumped his kids into you if it was the last thing he could do. He had you crying out while holding onto his antler for support, his grunts filling the bedroom when he saw your fucked out expression.

“That's it Doll, feel my cock raw inside you. I’m gonna—fuck—breed you so well all you’ll feel is my cum dripping down your thighs. Take it, it’s yours.'

𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 - 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

This tall, gentle giant actually never thought about kids. It was you that wanted them, and whatever his little bunny wants, will get. The fact that when you asked him, he was like ‘Okay what about now?’ and got straight to it, stripping you bare before fucking the life outta you. In the best way of course. His lips painted your skin and his knot was buried deep inside you, you would feel it when he placed your hand against your tummy. The more he fucked you, the more he realized, seeing you plump and pregnant would be the best thing he could ever witness. Just waddling around, carrying his child, glowing from motherhood, argh, he swore he never got harder until now.

‘I’m gonna fuck so many babies into you, darling. Keep you nice and plump. Fuck I’m gonna cum baby, let me pump my load into you. All of it for you.’ he was a rambling mess at that point.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 - 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐫

This big beefy body was all over your the moment you agreed to have kids. He had been begging to feel you raw for the past month, and you kept declining the big bear because you feared about being a mother, or in this case, failing as one. But he reassured you that you would be the greatest mother, you were already so good at looking after his younger friends and him for that matter that he could bet his life on you being suited for motherhood.

‘I can’t wait to meet our baby, I bet they will look just as beautiful as their mama.’

𝐒𝐚𝐧 - 𝐒𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭

This mischievous feline loved kids and loved you. So, putting the two together was just a perfect idea in his mind. So when he started begging, you were reluctant at first. You were both still young, and the idea of children wasn’t something on your mind. You loved San, yes. But having kids with him was something you didn’t see at that current moment in your life. It wasn’t until you caught him literally crying on the phone to one of his friends. He was thinking he was the problem and you didn’t want kids because he was a different type of hybrid to you. But he couldn’t see far from the truth. In truth, you were scared. You had to step in and interrupt the call, not caring if his friend heard you. You immediately apologized to him and pleaded for him to stop crying. You repeated over and over that one day you would be happy to have kids with him, but for now, while you are both young, to live your lives.

‘I’m sorry Sannie. You are not the problem, and you never will be the problem.’

𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐱

So you both didn’t really care for the idea of having kids. If they happened one day, neither of you wouldn’t be mad. But what you didn’t expect was it to be by accident. When you missed the first two days of your period you at first didn’t think much of it, but day by day your worry worsened and now it had been 2 weeks late with you sitting on the floor of the bathroom with a positive pregnant test in your hand. Not including the three sitting on the counter, all positive as well. You were about to call Wooyoung telling him to get home quickly, but as if the gods were on your side that evening, you hear a click of the bedroom door handle.

He called out looking for you, and you told him you were in the bathroom. When he came inside, he immediately noticed the tests on the counter. A large gulp fell down his throat as he let out a half-assed chuckle while rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Uh…Woops’

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨 - 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

You and Jongho were already excepting your first baby the moment after your honeymoon. You both had planned from the fourth year of dating that you wanted to try and conceive a child on your honeymoon. But it was not just for the fact you both wanted a family, no. It was also to prove to your families that you were better off without them. They never accepted your mixed species relationship, and the idea of you two having a baby together honestly scared them. The idea of an abomination being created by the two of you made them sick. So, of course, Jongho was going to pump as many kids into you as he possibly could. Heck, maybe four or five if he was lucky. He wanted a family, he wanted one with you. So if that means making some, then so be it.

‘you look so beautiful carrying our cubs my darling. You are going to be the best mother ever.’

-♥︎

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cursedvida · 7 months

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SAD EYES, BROKEN SMILE IV (Buggy x F!Reader)

PART III HERE // PART V HERE

WARNINGS: NSFW minors DNI, little smut, Buggy being nasty, swearing.

A/N: Part 4 of this and finally some smut. hope you enjoy!

You still can't believe you kissed Buggy. It was not in your plans to be so direct. You have never been so emotionally exposed, but is also true that you have no experience in romantic matters. You haven't been attracted to anyone before, or at least not in that way. Buggy brings out your most primitive instincts and clouds your reason, it's something you can't avoid.

But actions have consequences and so does kissing your captain. Buggy still hasn't recovered from the shock. The last thing he expected from you was a confession followed by a kiss. Ever since you joined his crew he noticed how you didn't quite fit in. You didn't seem very excited about show business, nor did you seem to be up for the shows. He didn't quite understand why you were so eager to be part of his crew, but it didn't seem strange to him either: he is Buggy the Clown, he is famous not only in the East Blue but also in the Gran Line. Pirates fear him, Marines hate him. He is a genius of deception and persuasion, his fame precedes him enough to attract new challengers. You might not quite fit in but it made sense that you didn't want to leave.

He still wasn't sure whether to trust you or not. Your confession had left him totally baffled and that kiss directly disarmed him. He would never have imagined such a reaction from you, do you really like him the way you say you do or is it just a strategy? Buggy is a really suspicious person, especially when good things happen to him. He doesn't want to believe that you like him because he knows that, if he does, he'll probably end up being disappointed. There's no way a girl like you, who could have anyone, really has feelings for him. Although she'll never admit it, of course, because he's a renowned pirate and people should consider it an honor to have him around.

Nevertheless, he is unable to take his eyes off you. He watches you as you clean the deck of the ship, he follows your movements at mealtimes with his eyes. He is able to count how many times a day you yawn or make that bored face that characterizes you so much. The more he looks at you, the prettier you look to him and the harder it is for him to control himself.

You notice his gaze fixed on you, although you don't know why he watches you with such intensity. Sometimes you have the feeling that at any moment he will leave you stranded on the first island you see, that your days in that crew are numbered. You think he might be very angry, Buggy's character is fickle and unpredictable at times, if he has taken the kiss badly he won't hesitate to make you pay for it. He shouldn't see it as an offense either, you may not be the most exceptional woman in the world but he might see it as a compliment just the same.

You try to avoid it or pretend nothing happened. Yes, the best thing will be to pretend, as you have been doing so far. But he keeps looking at you, all the time, and you start to get nervous.

"Y/N, I have to talk to you" you hear him call after lunchtime.

You tense up at that moment, you feel all your muscles stiffen, as if you were preparing for a fight. You have a strange feeling in your stomach, as if you were nauseous. The walk to his cabin is the longest you've ever walked, and it's only a few meters. When you finally find yourselves alone, you realize that you are unable to look at him. You, who are used to always looking the enemy in the eye, suddenly shy away from Buggy almost instinctively. You realize that deep down you are dead embarrassed.

"Did you call me, Captain?" you ask rather sheepishly. This whole thing is starting to get on your nerves. You're not like that, you're not a softie, not a shy, insecure little girl, you're a ruthless killer with several dozen deaths behind you. You don't understand why he makes you feel so weak, but when he's near you your head stops obeying you.

"Why did you do that?"

No beating around the bush, straight to the point. Buggy didn't want to waste any time. When you finally manage to look at him, his eyes look distrustful and at the same time somewhat hurt.

"It was a strategy, wasn't it?" he insists "You think I didn't notice?"

"A strategy?"

"Yes, to see if I forgot about what happened a couple of days ago. You were trying to divert attention."

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. Come on, don't fuck around, did the asshole really think you kissed him on the mouth as a confusion strategy? But is he really an asshole or did he fall out of the cradle at birth?

"But are you stupid or what's wrong with you?"

That response on your part, so aggressive, so angry, makes Buggy totally bewildered. In his mind, the only plausible explanation for a girl like you confessing and kissing him is that you are, in effect, trying to gain his trust so that he will forget the suspicious things about you. He doesn't understand why you seem so infuriated.

"I find it amazing that you brag so much about how wonderful you are when then you're not even capable of believing that a girl can like you" You blurt out to him, crossing your arms.

"I've liked hundreds of women, I'm Buggy the…"

"Yeah, I know, we all know that" you cut him off coldly "You pretend you're so full of yourself, but deep down you have very little confidence in yourself."

"Be careful what you say, sweetie, the consequences can be very bad."

"Is it that hard for you to accept that I like you?"

That question catches Buggy totally off guard. It pains him to admit it, but it really does. Of course he's aware that many women are attracted to him, but they're always passing flings, people he's barely seen for a couple of days. People who, in the end, don't know him. You've spent months with him, you've seen him fail on several occasions, it's clear that you're talented and may one day become a really strong pirate. Besides, you're gorgeous and you're hot, he really does find it hard to believe that this whole thing isn't a hoax.

"If you're not attracted to me that's fine" you tell him "we're both adults, I can handle rejection. But stop underestimating my feelings, that's cruel."

Buggy is silent for a few moments, something quite unbecoming of him. Then he looks at you, still in disbelief.

"So you were serious about yesterday?"

"Of course it was serious!" you exclaim, exasperated "I've been doing a lot of-"

But Buggy's mouth won't let you finish. When you want to realize, his lips are on yours and his tongue, agile and curious, tries to enter your mouth with desperation. It's the first time someone kisses you in such a passionate way, as if somehow trying to eat you whole, so it's a little hard for you to react to his momentum. You move your lips to match his and your tongues begin a contest of strength. Buggy's kiss is deep, tastes like salt and face paint. It has a metallic aftertaste that hooks you and its smell of gunpowder and sea manages to numb your senses. Just when you think you're about to lose your balance, a hand detached from his body grabs you around the waist, pulling you closer to him, so close that you are only a few millimeters apart.

You'd been fantasizing about something like this for a while, but your wettest dreams were nowhere near as exciting as the real thing. Having Buggy kissing you as if the world was going to end at that very moment makes your stomach shrink and your legs shake as if they were made of jelly. You've never felt so vulnerable around anyone before, but you don't hate the feeling, it makes you feel good for the first time.

You wrap your arms around his neck. You want more of him, you want to hold him closer. You need to cling to him with such desperation that the slightest almost imperceptible draft that can fit between the two of you hurts. He senses that need of yours and automatically pulls you tighter against his torso. His kisses are deep, wet and with a slight hint of anger that makes them intoxicating.

"Fuck" he exclaims, pulling away slightly for air.

You let out a small moan, something that makes Buggy smile.

"What's up, little girl, do you want more?"

Now it is you who kiss him. Buggy responds with momentum, placing his leg between yours. His hands begin to explore your body over your clothes. You've never let anyone go this far, but with him you just want more and more. When you notice one of his hands stop at your crotch you freeze.

"I'm actually really looking forward to you" he comments, whispering huskily in your ear as he begins to rub between his hand and the fabric of your pants "I've been wondering for some time what it must be like to have you in my bed"

"What a liar you are" You manage to say, almost in a whisper. You notice how the fabric of your underwear is getting wetter and wetter "When I came you didn't even know my name".

"You're right" he nods, giving you a couple of kisses on your neck while his fingers press your most sensitive parts "I just knew you were a pretty face. Little girl, you're like a chocolate candy."

He then attacks your neck, making you moan. He slowly pulls down your pants, now the only barrier he has are your panties.

"Fuck, little girl, your panties are so wet" his voice sounds husky and very excited "I've barely touched you and you're already like this? Fuck, what a delight."

"Buggy…" You sigh. It's the first time a man has managed to get his hand on you and the feelings you are now experiencing are totally new. The pleasure, the swelling, the wetness… You feel like you're going to explode, that you need more contact, more intensity. You move me a little to make friction between his hand and your most intimate part "Buggy, I love it."

"I'm going to eat you whole, princess."

Buggy then removes his glove with his mouth and it is at that moment that he slips his long fingers under your panties. You open your eyes as you feel the direct contact between his skin and your most intimate area.

"So wet just for me, this is a treasure" he murmurs, quite pleased.

At first he just slides one of his fingers all over your intimate area, making your skin crawl with goose bumps. You swore you wouldn't let anyone have you at their mercy, but you've totally surrendered to him and when he finally locates your clitoris, gently caressing it with your own natural lubrication, you can't help but let out a moan.

"That's it, little girl. Yeah, moan for me" He smiles, quite pleased.

"It's… God, please Buggy don't stop doing it" you ask him, almost beg, because the pleasure is enormous.

Buggy starts stroking you faster, now you feel like your whole body is on fire, with a kind of heat right in the center of your belly that intensifies every time his fingertips brush against your skin. You start moaning helplessly as he slides his tongue down your neck until it reaches your cleavage.

"Buggy…" You can barely say anything, just moan his name, but that seems to delight you.

"I'm going to make you mine completely, Y/N. I hope you know what you've done."

But just as Buggy is about to slip one of his fingers inside you, someone knocks loudly on his cabin door, completely breaking the mood. You both tense up, giving a little gasp. Buggy lets out a huge growl, looking really pissed off.

"But who the fuck is it now!" he shrieks, hands still shoved between your legs.

"Captain" Cabaji's voice is heard "We have a problem, there's a Navy ship nearby".

"Fuck" Buggy roars, he'd probably love to beat the shit out of Cabaji for interrupting him at a time like this, but the reasons have been more than justified.

He looks at you with an annoyed look on his face.

"We're not done yet" It's not an apology, it's a warning.

You smile at him.

"I hope so, Captain."

#buggy #buggy the clown #buggy x y/n #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy imagine #buggy headcanons #buggy the clown imagine #op buggy #buggy live action #one piece buggy #buggy one piece #buggy pirates #buggy smut #buggy x oc #captain buggy #buggy d clown #buggy the flashy fool

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hugejk · 4 months

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Making dessert with pablo. Singing and dancing in the kitchen kinda corny but super cute and fluffy ❤️🥰🥰

i love this concept 💋 (i don’t think it’s corny at all)

||____________________||

It was a cloudy day in barcelona, you and pablo were slumped on the couch together, enjoying the weather with each other.

You guys were watching a random netflix series, something in the show reminded you that you had box brownie mix. Immediately getting up and running to the kitchen to search for it. You just left pablo confused in the living room.

“amor why did you leave me” pablo walked in with his head down

“we have brownie mix somewhere in here…” you said focused on finding the mix.

“that was more important than cuddling with me?” he said slightly offended.

“right now, yes.” you said looking back at him with your hands still searching for the box

Pablo then took a seat and waiting on his phone for you to find the mix. Both of you had been eating junk food, so to finish the day off you guys were gonna eat some brownies.

“found it!” you said excitedly

“took you like….5 years…” pablo said quietly

“whatever, get me a bowl, and some milk, and an egg, and oil too.” you named off the needed ingredients off the box.

pablo getting up and getting exactly what you needed for the brownies, you went on your phone and decided to start playing music.

One of your favorite songs came on, Tren al sur by los prisioneros. The iconic intro started to play.

“isn’t this your favorite song?” pablo said with his head still in the fridge getting the milk.

you didn’t respond back, singing the lyrics, “y no mi digas por ir viajando asi”

pablo coming back to the counter with the bowl filled with the things you needed, saw you moving with the song.

Still not talking, mixing the ingredients into each other. Whispering the lyrics under your breath, pablo just stood there looking at you being so focused on making brownies.

Mixing the batter around until there were no lumps left, you handed pablo the spood covered in chocolate. It didn’t take him much before the spoon looked clean.

You proceeded to get a pan to pour the mix in, pablo coming up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and arms wrapped around your figure.

The next song started playing, the song you dedicated to your relationship, “El muchacho de los ojos tristes”

You started singing the song, pablo started swaying you two along to the song. You put the bowl down and turned to look at pablo. You put your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist.

Still singing along to the song and swaying with pablo, he finally joined in. He didn’t sing much, if he did it was as a joke. But this song he would always sing with you, seriously sing.

A smile was on both your faces, enjoying the moment. A perfect way to end the lazy day.

“con mis besos y mi gran amor, el muchacho de los ojos tristes, vive solo y necesita amor.” you two sung as the song ended. Giving pablo a kiss, melting into him.

Pablo pulled away, “wait, did you ever put the brownies into the oven?” he said

“uhm…” you looked behind you to the pan of mix sat on the counter still.

||________________________||

A/N: i strongly recommend that you listen to the songs i highlighted 🤭 especially tren al sur

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi imagines #gavi x reader #gavi headcanons #gavi #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x you

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quirkwizard · 9 months

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I'm not sure why I made this. I just thought it would be fun to do and now all you have to see the fruits of my labor. So, without further ado, the Pro Hero Parent Tier List. Hope you all enjoy it and try not to take it too seriously.

F Tier: Gran Torino, Recovery Girl, and Yoroi Musha: The simple fact is that these three characters are way too old to be parents. Maybe if this were a grandparent tier list, they'd be higher, but it isn't, so they're all going in the F Tier.

D Tier: Endeavor: Look, do I even need to explain this one? You all know what he did. One of the biggest problems in the story is the result of all the messed up stuff Enji did as a dad. His attempt at redemption was to remove himself from his family. Easy bottom tier.

Nana: While I'm someone who tries to understand Nana's position and decisions in regards to her kid and her role as a "One For All" user, she still didn't seem like a very good parent even when she was around. She herself even admits that, so that is what puts her so low.

Gang Orca: What few interactions we see him having with kids is screaming about their failures and throwing them when he is dissatisfied with their answers. That is bound to cause some trauma later. Like some Pavlovain response when they think of Free Willy.

Hound Dog: He may be a guidance consular that works with kids, implying some understanding of child psychology, but if his first reaction is to yell and growl at any emotional problems in front of him, he probably isn't going to communicate with his own kids.

Thirteen: I get that Thirteen is someone who takes a lot of care and consideration with her power and is quite safe to be around. That being said, I don't think that someone who is at risk of destroying their own child at the atomic level should really be handling children.

C Tier: Edgeshot: There really isn't a lot to say about Edgeshot as we don't get a lot of personality outside of being stoic, which could certainly be an issue for a parent. That being said, being willing to sacrifice yourself for a kid does push him above the bottom of the tier list.

Mount Lady: If we're considering her early in the series, she'd definitely be at the lower tier given how irresponsible and self-centered she is. Though considering her development and how mature she's gotten in general, she barely scrapes by as an average parent.

Kaumi Woods: Kamui Woods is just kind of average. There just isn't a lot going on with him that could give or detract merit from the little hero work he's done. He's here by default. His inability to hug his kids without giving them splinters would certainly be an issue.

Manual: Again, he's average. The most we have is that he seemed to do pretty well with handling Iida's whole situation but didn't seem to notice it in the first place. Otherwise, he's pretty plain. I could see him being the lame dad his kids don't want to talk to or be around.

Miruko: Definite Tiger Mom. She'd be making her kids do all kinds of sports stuff and getting them to exercise all the time. She cares, but she shows it by trying to make her kids excel at what they're doing. Great if they're into that, but I can see it fostering a lot of resentment.

Sir Nighteye: Like Miruko, but at the other end of the spectrum. He would be the kind of dad to make his kid study a lot because that's what he would think would be best for them. Cares and can loosen up when needed, but is emotionally distant most times.

B Tier: Ms. Joke: She is a teacher, meaning she must have some understanding of kids. She'd definitely be the "Fun Mom". She'd always try to keep a smile on her kid's face, even if that meant making terrible mom jokes. Be ready, she has been working on them for years.

Ectoplasm: He seems to be pretty good with kids, but the real clencher is his power. No matter what, he could always be around to be present in his kid's life. And hey, family dynamics are always changing. Who is to say a family can't be just a kid and their thirty-six identical dads?

Ryukyu: She can be hard on herself, but she seems to have a soft spot for children and do well with her wards, given how well they have turned out, being commanding without being harsh. And let's be real: who wouldn't want to have a dragon for a parent? That alone would put her pretty high up here.

Eraserhead: This may be a controversial pick putting him so low, but hear me out. I think Aizawa would try to be a good dad, but he's married to his job, being too tired and absent to really make it work. And did you see what he bought for Eri to wear? What self-respecting father would ever do this his child?

Fourth Kind: A good role model to any kid who tries to foster strong moral foundations and understanding of community in his wards. All around, a pretty stand-up guy to have as a dad. He loses points because punching kids is not a good way to punish them, even if it hurts him more than it hurts them.

Midnight: This could be because I read Vigilantes, but Midnight actually shows quite a few parental traits, like being highly empathic and understanding of those younger than her. Then again, I can only imagine the kind of teasing and general awkwardness that would come from having the R-Rated Heroine as a mom.

A Tier: All Might: If we're counting him without "One For All", otherwise he'd be working too much to be a dad, I think that he'd be a parent. If his students are anything to go by, he'd be a pretty effective parent. We can also tell that he plays favorites with his kids, and that knocks off a few points.

Present Mic: This may be a surprise pick, but I can see him doing pretty well as a parent. He can be the fun, comic dad that plays with his kids and can get on their level, but he can instantly go into serious mode if he needs to. The fact that he can do both so well, which you kind of need as a parent, puts him pretty high on the list.

Best Jeanist: Another stand-up guy, just trying to be a good role model and look amazing while doing it. I mean, the guy had an actual positive impact on early series Bakugou. That has got to count for something. Probably has all kinds of weirdly good life advice if you can understand fashion metaphors.

Rock Lock: One of the few real parents on this list, Rock Lock just seems like a responsible parent. He did try to call out the kids for being on missions, but he was kind of right in that regard and just looking out for them. Probably try to keep his kid from doing stupid stuff. He'd be a good, but restrictive father.

Hawks: Like Present Mic, I could see Hawks being a chill dad who doesn't seem to know what's going on but actually knows everything that happens and always has one eye open when it comes to his kids. He'll give his kids their freedom, but he's going to be there to catch and guide them when they really need him.

S Tier: Mandalay: Another one of the few real parents here, and one with a pretty bad hand. Mandalay not only had to take over as a guardian out of nowhere but had to do it with a heavily traumatized child while trying to lead a team as a pro-hero. The fact that she seems to be doing as well as she is puts her this high without question.

Fat Gum: No one should be surprised that Fat Gum is this high. He's super protective without being overbearing, tries to instill valuable lessons to make them develop, and does his best to encourage his wards to be the best they could be. And could you imagine him giving hugs? That would make any problem vanish.

Tensei: Tensei is just such a good guy. He's a good role model and leader for his team without it being detrimental. He knew Koichi for about a day and he was able to understand Koichi and tried to set him up for success. Imagine how well he'd do with his own kid. Plus, he's an older brother. That's like a being a parent with training wheels.

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sokkastyles · 3 months

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Hi, I’m finding it difficult to wrap my head around your (and some other meta writers) take on Sokka’s sexism and how writing a nonsexist society would be braver?

Why is it more brave to write a story without bigotry than one overcoming it?

Defensive Writing Section Where I Respond to What I Imagine You Could Respond With: 1) I know the original series did not succeed in, or even really try, empowering its women. 2) I know sexism is baked into the show and its romances. 3) I know Katara deserves better (but, this might be where we diverge, I don’t feel served by a reality/story where we pretend women’s domestic, unappreciated labor isn’t a pillar holding society up. Tbh it feels kinda disrespectful to keep that offscreen and media tends to downplay it as is). 4) I know the show isn’t out yet and we’re all guessing. I am picking your brain on your guess cause it confused me. 5.) Sokka’s arc is about maturing manhood and leadership, I’m afraid removing his sexism dodges an opportunity to explicitly deconstruct its toxic expressions. Again, I know the show was unsatisfactory with this the first go around.

Fan Mail Section Where I Attempt To Convey I Meant No Harm: Love your blog! Again, just confused.

First of all, I did not say that writing a nonsexist society would be braver or that the story should not have bigotry in it. What I said is that the story should have more adult women in it.

For example, I do enjoy Katara's story of struggling against feeling like she needs to take on a motherly role because of her gender. I think it's realistic because it's a conflict many girls face, and watching her fight against that can be cathartic. But what's harder to reconcile is the way the narrative goes out of its way to justify forcing this role on Katara. Not all of this can be chalked up to a sexist world. Kya being dead before the story begins was a decision the writers made, for example. I'm not necessarily saying that should be changed, but it is a common trope in media and it's a problem that women are disproportionately killed off to serve fictional narratives this way. Compare, for example, the way the story explains Hakoda's absence without killing him off entirely, and the fact that we know a heck of a lot more about him as a character than we do Kya. His absence is still used to characterize the heroes, to explain the struggle they face in a war-torn world, but he gets to be an active agent in the story, too.

Another example is that although a lot of Sokka's sexism stems from a lack of understanding of Katara's waterbending, which can be explained in the narrative by the fact that the FN has nearly eradicated southern waterbending, this does not explain why Katara wasn't taught more about her bending by her grandmother, who is both from the northern tribe and present when Hama and the other benders were taken. In the flashbacks in "The Puppet Master," we see that there were many women who used combat waterbending, and apparently waterbending healing was not even known in the south so there was no gendered division like in the north. There's no real reason why that should change so quickly in such a short amount of time to the point where the southern water tribe all of the sudden becomes this hugely sexist society where only men are known to fight.

Katara and Sokka are presented with opposite ideas about gender, but we don't have any real sense of where they got these ideas. I like to headcanon that Katara got her feminism from gran-gran, who fled the southern water tribe because of sexism, but it's strange then that Katara doesn't even know this story. Why is Kanna such a complete nonentity in the narrative, when her story is so important to the story the show wants to tell about Katara?

We get more backstory on Sozin than we do a lot of the adult women in the story, when they even show up. Zuko's mom is fridged just like Katara's, and although I love how this serves as a bonding point between them, it would be less glaring if Iroh's and Azulon's and Sozin's wives were also not nonentities in the narrative.

Someone commented on this post that the live action might be giving us Suki's mom. So let's look at how even this small change might effect the story. Even keeping in Sokka's sexism. Let's say that it does play out like in the original, and when they get to Kyoshi Island, Sokka is shocked - shocked! - to be beaten by a bunch of women. We're supposed to think Sokka is wrong. And he does get proven wrong. But the Kyoshi Warriors are still the exception to the rule. Sokka doesn't so much learn that women deserve respect as much as he learns to respect some women because they can kick his ass.

But, if we bring in Suki's mom, then suddenly Suki doesn't have to be the sole named character responsible for teaching Sokka not to be sexist. The story becomes less about how Sokka should respect women because some of them are cool and he'll get a girlfriend out of it, and more about how all women deserve the same respect, because we see more women just present and living in the world of the story.

I'd also like to ask everyone to take a step back here, because to my knowledge, the show never said it was taking out certain arcs or presenting the characters without narrative flaws. This all seems to stem from the young actors themselves saying merely that the show took out some "iffy" moments.

So what did they take out that Ian and Kiiawntio might be referring to? Maybe some of the anachronistic and, frankly, racist moments such as, for example, Sokka and Katara calling Zuko and Sokka's cultural hairstyles "ponytails." Which would make sense, considering that the show probably feels like they can trust their audience to accept hairstyles that might appear different to Americans moreso than the writers of the original show did, considering that this is not a show airing on American kids' cable in the early 2000s, but a modern show with a global and much more globally aware audience. These are the kinds of updates that I would expect from a modern live action series. And that is a very good thing.

I also trust the young actors of color playing these kids to say "hey, these kids would not actually talk like that!" More than I trust white writers and execs.

#atla live action #katara #sokka #atla discourse

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kiwiana-writes · 4 months

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For the AU Five facts game

Henry is participating in a ‘win a date with an eligible Batchelor’ charity auction. Alex is bidding on Henry, not because he wants to win but because he can tell it is annoying Henry and Alex finds it hilarious.

First of all, making a pitch for you to read Going Once, Going Twice by @three-drink-amy if you haven't already! It's not quite this but there IS date bidding and I think you'd really enjoy it, I sure as hell did.

ONE: Never in a million years could Henry have fathomed this being allowed by Buckingham, let alone suggested by them. He can only assume that word of the sheer volume of NDAs he's managed to have signed at Oxford has made its way back to Her Majesty, and she's decided that the prospect of dozens of rich heiresses financially competing for a dinner date with him will publicly assert his unimpeachable heterosexuality.

TWO: He sees June first, and wonders briefly if Alex is also one of the victims subjects of this godforsaken auction—but then someone moves, and there he is, hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey and smiling just as bright and beautiful as he was the first time Henry ever saw him. To this day Henry isn't entirely sure what it is about his existence that infuriates Alex so much, but last time they saw each other Alex threatened to throw him in the Thames, so he doubts much has changed between them.

THREE: The first bid Alex makes, Henry is absolutely certain, is a joke. He's saying something to his sister, gesticulating wildly as he does, and he's not looking anywhere near the stage until the auctioneer says ten thousand from Mr Claremont-Diaz and Alex's face snaps up. He opens his mouth, clearly to argue, but then Vicount Crosby's eldest daughter raises her hand and bids eleven thousand. So it's fine. Except. Except. Henry makes the terrible mistake of looking relieved right as Alex looked at him, and... well. His eyes narrow, and his chin tilts, and this time when he raises his hand it's bloody deliberate.

FOUR: Do the First Children get some sort of government stipend? Is that what's being spent on this? Is Alex going to go back home and submit a bloody expense report saying that he spent twenty two—no, twenty four—no, twenty six thousand pounds on dinner with a man he's made no secret he despises? If he could get up and leave without being raked over the coals for it later, he would. He doesn't understand what Alex is doing. (He also, briefly, dimly, registers that if Alex actually wins this ridiculous thing his gran will be furious, and that's almost enough to make up for the fact that Henry knows he's the victim in some sort of elaborate practical joke right now.)

FIVE: After Alex wins (because of course he bloody wins) Henry tries to assure him that he's not actually expected to go through with the farce of a date, and Alex actually scoffs. "After what I spent I expect to be fucking wooed, sweetheart."

[Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.]

#au five fun facts game #ask meme response #nerdyfangirl76 #finishing off the last of these this evening but I'm convinced Tumblr has eaten a couple #Which is the universe telling me to chill I guess lmao

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romantiqueofthemind · 2 years

Text

Hosting (formerly Untitled Harry Blurb)

Hellloooo!!! First off, I’ve missed you all so much! I’m working on some more fics rn as we speak, but here is an untitled Harry Blurb that I wrote last week? Idk but it’s fluffy and cute so Enjoy!

Warnings: NONE!

Word Count: <1000 (less than 1000 for those of you who are bad at math like me lol)

"Come here bubs." You said calmly as you carefully lifted your son out of his high chair covered in Spaghetti sauce. He had turned over his dinner from being fussy and kicking around. You quickly took him to his nursery and undressed Henry from his messy onesie. You grabbed an emerald green onesie with a picture of a dinosaur on it and dressed the toddler. You loved him in that color, it really brought out how green his eyes were. You held him in your arms and shushed him gently as you stroked his light brown hair. Every day it seemed to amaze you how much he looked like his father.

You noticed the time, a reminder hitting you that it was time to turn on the TV. You took Henry into the master bedroom where you and your husband slept and set him down so he was sitting between your legs on the bed. You both were facing the large TV on the wall as you grabbed the remote, turned it on, and put in the channel number for CBS. Henry looked around your room. He hardly ever was in here, usually he was in his nursery room, the living room or the kitchen. He looked around and noticed your husbands side of the bed, noticing the objects on his nightside table next to the bed. Almost immediately, the boy started to get fussy again as tears welled up in his eyes. Henry started crying and kicking his feet against the bed in a similar fashion to the way he had when he was in his highchair. "Awww bubs... Shhh its okay. What's wrong sweetie?" You asked before crossing your legs and setting the toddler in your lap, doing your best to calm him. Your eyes shifted towards the TV as you heard the program start. "All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire, Give it up for a Mister Harry Styles!" You looked up to see a purple curtain pull back to reveal Harry wearing a dark emerald velvet suit, almost black.

"Lookie bubs! Look! Who's that?" You said pointing to the TV, the toddler turning his attention to the TV that displayed a smiling Harry Styles in front of a studio audience clapping and cheering. Henry looked up at the TV, his tears had stopped and his glazed emerald green eyes staring up at the TV in amazement. The moment Harry looked into the camera and smiled, blowing a quick kiss towards it, Henry's face immediately lit up. He smiled widely as he giggled, his arms moving up and down out of excitement. "Dada!" the toddler exclaimed. You couldn't help but giggle a bit yourself. Henry was so adorable and you loved him more than anything. "Yeah! It's Daddy! Can you wave and say hi to Daddy?" You smiled as you waved to the image of your husband on the screen, your son soon copying your movements. He then turned back to face you, a wide smile spreading across his face. He looked so much like Harry, it was nearly too much for you sometimes.

Henry squealed and bounced up and down on the bed with excitement any time Harry would do something cute, or told a joke to get the audience to laugh. You absolutely adored how Henry idolized Harry, and vice versa. Even before Henry was born, Harry was absolutely ecstatic when he found out you were pregnant. He immediately picked you up in a hug and spun you around until you started to get dizzy before he called his sister, mum, and gran in a merged call as he went upstairs and shouted "M' GOING TO BE A DAD!" You couldn't help but laugh at how cute Harry was. It was one of the things you loved about him, how it seemed like you were married to a literal child, but it was amazing.

Your attention went back to the TV as Harry said "We have a great show for you tonight but first I wanted to give a quick message to my wife and son who are watching at home tonight. Y/n, baby I love you and I'm so proud of you. Thank you for making me a dad, I am eternally grateful." The audience clapped and cheered for a moment before Harry continued. "To my son, Henry, I love you so much bubs. You are the center of my universe and I would do anything to keep you smiling and happy always. Love you lots bud, I'll see you both very soon." Your eyes welled up with tears of happiness as you placed a kiss on your sons head and blew a kiss to the TV. You glanced back and fourth between the TV and Henry, just absolutely beaming at the two loves of your life. You were incredibly proud of Harry for all he has accomplished and how hard he's worked, and of Henry for only being 10 months old and being so interested in everything Harry does. You could tell that Henry would turn into an amazing kid with all of the best qualities of his dad.

Let me know if you guys want more Harry Styles Blurbs! This was really cute to write and I want to do more cute blurbs like this! Maybe I can do some with Austin? Lmk what you guys think!

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry x reader #harry’s house #harry styles fluff #dad!harry #harry x y/n #love on tour #harry styles blurb #blurb series #frat boy harry #long hair harry #louis and harry #harry styles smut

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ultralightpoe · 1 year

Text

The Absinthe- Aemond Targaryen

Writers Note: Sup

Warning: A lil steamy. They drink absinthe

Word Count: 2036

Description: Part 2 to THE COURT

There were many games Aemond liked playing with you. Charades after you drank too much wine, poker (he had learned from Aegon nearly always won, using your mothers pearls as chips), hide and seek, and he especially loved the game of making you nervous. There was something addicting in the fast beating of his heart whenever you showed signs of being flustered around him.

But this new game you were playing with him was not something he enjoyed. Not in the slightest. It had been three weeks since it began, which was torture since he figured out what you were doing the first day.

You were avoiding him. No, worse, you were completely ignoring his existence. You wouldn’t even look in his direction, your face never showed any hint of difference whenever he was announced into the room. And he had been announced a lot, considering he was all but stalking you.

He had servants listening in, reporting your every move so he knew where you were and who you were with, and he found himself surrounded by his worst enemies quite often these days. The younger court members.

That’s how he found himself sitting between Bela Baratheon and her older brother Gran Baratheon, his spine so tight he thought it might snap as he stared at you sitting across from him. You were giggling at something Claris Tully had said, Miriam holding her nose to hide a snort.

It had been made clear to him that you were closest to those two females, which eased his worries about where he stood a bit for they seemed to be the lowest on the grade for the Court. Bela had already made many snide comments about Claris’ weight that you seemed to ignore, and everytime you defended your friend Aemond felt his chest lighten because it was a whole new aspect.

You had always been ready for a fight when it came to him. Eager to defend your closest friend, apart of the reason he fell in love with you in the first place. He had always loved it when it was just the two of you against everything.

But then something changed and it was clear you wanted something more, and he didn’t know how to act. He was terrified, because it seemed like you were growing up and he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to be left behind.

At first he blamed your mother, he knew she was the main problem when you started dressing like one of them, with the corsets and skirts. But he was the one that fully pushed you into their arms, he had told you to go to a brothel. Sneered it, hurt you without any hesitation, and they had been there to pick you up.

“What do you think……Prince Aemond?” Bela asks, snapping her fingers to catch his attention away from where he had been staring at you.

“I think many things.”

“So you are in?”

“In?”

“In for the Dragons Flame?” She smiles, leaning in so her chest was against his shoulder. He risked a glance to you, still sat between the other two but this time you held a goblet in your hands and were staring into the contents with a grim face.

“The Dragons Flame?”

“Absinthe darling prince.” Bela giggles, handing him a goblet.

“We shouldn’t-” And just like that you were downing yours, gulping it so loud the others giggled and followed suit. A wave of panic crashed over him as he watched and they all looked to him, waiting with raised brows. Everyone but you.

“Cheers to Lady Y/n.” He mumbles before downing his own.

He had known it was time.

It had been 10 years of having you to himself and suddenly his best friend was ready to go out into the world. But he was no fool, not like his father. He recognized a problem when he saw it. It was him.

You were absolutely stunning, there was no reason for you not having suitors, in fact they should have been lined outside the Red Keeps gates begging. He would beg, if you wanted him to. But who would want to marry the girl that was friends with the beast.

It was your name day, your fucking name day and he wanted to spend it with you. But first he had to make himself the bad guy.

“Lady Y/n? No, I’d choose a donkey over her. Took me years to get her to leave me alone.” The words tasted like acid, and the truth was he was desperate for every second you gave him.

They laughed and shoved his shoulder in a playful manner, Aemond doing his best to remain cool. This was for you. Fuck, you had taken to wife lessons, this needed to be done.

“But I do believe she finds one of you quite fit.” He smiles, doing his best to play insightful and gossipy.

“Aemond- Prince-” He snaps awake to Bela above him, a wide smile spreading across her face, widening into her hairline. So wide she could probably eat him like a snake.

“You seemed to be talking in your sleep-” She’s cackling now, and he feels like he is on a boat. But wasn’t he on a couch before?

He had been across from you on the - WHERE WERE YOU?! The couch was completely empty, he sat up so quickly his head smashed into Belas. Both of them gave a grunt of pain as he struggled to remove her from where she sat on his chest and stand. “Where did Lady Y/n go?”

“Oh, the sweet prince wants to look for the darling damsel-” She rolls her eyes, sinking to the floor and fixing her corset. No, not fixing, she was untying it. Shit, was the painting coming alive.

IT WAS. He had to find you fast.

Not risking another glance to the Baratheon girl he runs to find you. He went to the first place he would go in a time like this, trying to catch his breath as he raced through the halls.

A sharp feeling of pain in his chest as his boots clomped through.

“Have you seen Lady Y/n?” He asks his mother, two days after your name day. The first day you were gone he was sure it was just you sleeping off the wine from your night, but the second day he was anxious to find you.

“Oh yes, she and her mother joined Helaena and I for breakfast.” Alicent hums, looking over her husband's sand sculptures, tracing her fingers along it. “I felt so guilty about missing the festivities of her name day.”

“Did she say anything about-”

“Oh dear.” His mother cuts him off, picking up a sculpture of a dragon that was hidden in the center, looking at the chipped wing.

“I was thinking of calling upon her today-”

“She has something with the Baratheon boy today. I believe he is courting her.” Aemond tried not to think about the churning feeling in his gut as he heard this. This was good.

The doors to the library were heavier than normal in his current state and for a moment he almost gave up because if he couldn’t open it then why would you be able to. But then he realized the doorknob had an actual use and the heavy oak swung out from under him, sending him sprawling to the floor.

There was a shark scream from under one of the tables and he found himself launching to his feet, knife in hand as he searched for you. “Y/N?! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

He traced along the floor silently, waiting to find you. He made it to the back walls when a hand snatched at his ankle and he whipped to find your wrist covered in a bracelet he had given you, peering out at him softly.

“Aem, hurry hide.” You whispered, pulling his leg and he was all too happy to join you under the table, pulling you into his lap and hugging you tightly and caressing your hair.

“What’s wrong pretty one?” He whispers as you look around.

“Aegon-”

“Did my brother harm y-” You cut off his growl with a finger on his lips, shaking your head.

“Aegon the first. He….. he’s here.” Right, the drink. You were seeing things too.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” He whispers, grabbing your chin to pull your face to his own. “It’s not real. Aegon the first king is long behind in history.”

“Aemond I saw him. He was limping and he looked like a corpse-” You sob and he feels a sting of embarrassment as he realizes.

“That was just my father.”

“I know your father-”

“You haven’t seen him in a while. Just as you haven’t seen me.” He bites out, trying not to look at you.

“If it upset you then you should have gone and seen the donkeys.” You snip, moving to crawl out of his lap. He snatches you in a tight grip, not allowing you to abandon him as he processes your words.

“Is that why you have been ignoring me?”

“You said it.”

“And you believed me?”

“What was I supposed to believe?!”

“You would honestly believe that? That I would choose a donkey over you when you are all I could ever fantasize about. My deepest desires surround your every move and you believe I think so lowly of you.”

“Don-”

“I have never known you to be daft, so why be so now?” He sneers, grabbing your jaw on both sides and pulling you so your noses were touching. “You needed suitors, I made it so you would get them.”

“I didn’t want suitors!”

“THEN WHAT DID YOU WANT?!”

“YOU!” You scream, and it falls silent for a moment after, both your chests rising and falling faster than ever as he keeps a firm clutch on your jaw. Then within a moment the world explodes.

He drags your lips against his, hungry to taste you, practically moaning when you kiss back. Your teeth scrape, tongues fight for room as he pulls you further into his lap, one hand traveling down to your back as the other pushes into your hair to pull your face closer.

This was heaven. This was everything he’d ever wanted.

You moan loudly and he finally pulls back harshly to catch his breath, looking at you with wide eyes as you stare back at him.

“Y/n i’m sorry-” Then you were there again, this time biting down on his lip as you kissed him, pulling him as close as you could, there was a small amount of blood drawn as you absorbed into each other.

Each break you took was used to gasp for air before you would be brought back into him, both of you starting to move against each other quickly. Guttural moans were slipping through his lips as you moved against him, his hands tightening on your corset, desperate to get it off you and see you.

You both freeze at the sound of tearing fabric, a small giggle escaping you making a smile break out on aemonds face. He was desperate to make you smile and laugh over and over.

He was just about to pull you in once more when a scream cut in, Aemond diving to cover you as a guard snatched his arm. He is dragged out from under the table but keeps a firm hold on you, keeping you close as Ser Criston Cole glares at him.

“Hands off her immediately.” He sneers as the door behind them all opens, a choked sob coming from his mother as his grandfather leads her in to the room.

“Not before she gets something to cover her-”

“Hands off the whore-”

“SER COLE.” Alicent snaps, pushing past him to wrap her arms around you.

“This is a true problem.” Otto sneers, glaring at both. “You fool.”

“Do not blame the boy. This was obviously a trap set by the-”

“We will marry.” Aemond snaps, looking to you, the absinthe beginning to make him sick. Or maybe that was just nerves. “Tonight.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst

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theemporium · 2 years

Note

Hi hi! Could I request something with 38 from the smut list with Steve?

thank you for the request! hope you enjoy, love! i got lazy on editing so lets just hope there is no major mistakes🤡

38. “as beautiful as you look, all i want to do is rip that dress off right now.”

Senior prom was something everyone looked forward to in their last year of high school.

The hype surrounding the event in the weeks approaching, ballots and votes going out for prom king and queen, tickets being bought and outrageous promposals being thrown right, left and centre.

It was hard to avoid. It was hard to miss. And there was no doubt in every student’s mind that prom was the one event nobody could miss. It was practically social suicide to miss senior prom, everybody and their gran knew that.

And yet here you were, nails digging into the leather seats of the stretch limo because your boyfriend was so damn insatiable he didn’t care about senior prom or anything else for that matter.

He hadn’t cared the moment you opened the door, bright eyes and adoring smile, standing in the doorway looking like a goddess in your prom dress. Despite how many times he annoyed you about it, you wouldn’t tell him anything about your dress except the colour so he could buy a matching tie.

And now, Steve was almost resentful because if he knew how damn good you were going to look, he would have skipped prom in the first place.

But you took his hand, made some comment about his theatrical need for a limo and Steve was rendered so speechless that he didn’t even fight you as you pulled him into the backseat with you. Hell, it took him a solid few minutes to get his bearings about him before he could even utter a full sentence at how beautiful you looked.

Steve had lasted about a solid thirty minutes in the decorated gym before the lingering touches and wandering hands became too much for either of you.

He had no issues dragging you on the squeaky dance floor, pushing through the throng of dressed up students and towards the school exit.

Steve pushed you towards the door of the limo, making his way to the driver’s seat to whisper something to the suited man before he wandered off, no doubt around fifty bucks wealthier, before he followed you into the back of the limo.

“Steve—”

He was on you before you could even finish your sentence, his hands holding your face and his lips on yours. He made you breathless and warm and god, Steve Harrington was addictive.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, baby,” his whispered words felt ticklish against your inner thighs. “So pretty, like a fucking angel.”

“Shit,” you breathed out, head falling back against the headrest. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about your hair, the pins digging into the back of your head but it didn’t even matter. Nothing but the boy kneeling between your legs mattered.

Steve pushed the dress further up your legs, the tight material bunching just below your panties. “And this dress, sweetheart,” he let out a low groan, pressing a kiss just above your knee. “As beautiful as you look, all I want to do is rip that dress off right now.”

You shot him a look. “You rip this dress and you’re paying for it, Harrington.”

“I’ll buy you every fucking dress you want,” Steve retorted, not even ashamed of his own cockiness as his hands slid up the sides of your legs and pulled your panties down with them. “Anything that makes you happy.”

Your fingers glided through his hair, the action causing his eyes to flutter. “You make me happy, Stevie.”

“Such a sweet talker,” he muttered before dipping his head back down between your thighs, guiding your legs over his shoulder and giving them a loving squeeze.

Suddenly, everything about prom seemed useless. Who cared about dressing up and dancing all night in uncomfortable shoes? Who cared about dates and promposals and spending the night drinking spiked with someone you aren’t even sure you like? Who cared about any of it?

Because honestly, you couldn’t give a damn about any of the big prom milestones people spend years after high school talking about. You didn’t care because you could look back on your senior prom night and smile with pride saying you spent the night having your boyfriend eat you out in the back of a limo.

“Love the noises you make,” he groaned against your cunt, his nose nudging your swollen clit and his hands reaching out to keep your hips pinned to the seat as you squirmed beneath him. “Always so responsive.”

“You make me feel good,” you whined out, heels digging slightly into his back but he didn’t seem bothered. If anything, it only goaded him further.

His tongue lapped you up, running along your slit and teasing your clit just to hear the choked out noise you made when his lips wrapped around the nub. He placed sloppy kisses up and down your cunt, groaning at the shameless wet noises that echoed through the limo.

His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs when he felt you tensing beneath him, his tongue working against you as you felt your first orgasm of the night wash over you. And when he placed a kiss over your sensitive clit, your body shaking beneath him, he knew one wouldn’t be enough.

Steve Harrington was insatiable when it came to you, and he would be damned if he didn’t ravish you on a bed for the rest of the night.

“Where are you going?” you called out, slumped back against the seats, voice breathy and a little whiny as Steve pressed a chaste kiss to your thigh before making his way towards the door, hand adjusting the growing tent in his trousers.

“Gonna get the driver to take us home,” Steve said, not a care in the world that his lips and chin were glistening. “Told you I wanted to rip that dress off you, baby.”

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things smut

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pocketramblr · 5 months

Note

Dont know if youre still doing the AU asks but if you are, 5 HC for an AU where Eri, running away from Overhaul, runs into Gran torino and while panicking rewinds him back to his prime.

1- Eri runs, and runs, and hits someone who swears and grabs and she squeezes her eyes tight as light rushes out of her and hands go away. She curls up on the ground, sobbing, and when new gloved hands grab her without a word she does nothing, just hides her face and hopes Chisaki will go back home slowly enough to give her a break before punishing her.

2- Sorahiko got knocked over by a wrecking ball of a kid, fails to bite off his reaction as he gets up and reaches out to help her up. But then she's glowing and his whole body is in agony. Sorahiko's heart isn't soft enough to keep holding on, and he jets back, dropping the kid. By the time he's on the other end of the street, holding on to the building, he's taller than he was a second ago. He holds his breath, but the glow fades and doesn't affect him more when he's out of range. He waits a second, then goes back and scoops up the kid, who doesn't move. Worn out, probably, and the bandages aren't a good sign. Well, he was on his way to Nighteye's office, so he just keeps heading there.

3- Why is he on the way to talk to Sir? Because it's the only reason I can think of to have him be hours away from his home in that area where Eri is. So let's say Gran is there to update him on the fact that AfO is probably definitely back after the Hosu nomu attack. Gran brings Eri in, and that's about the moment that Eri realizes she is not being carried home by Chisaki. She looks up when she's put on a chair and Gran calls for Sir, ignoring the sidekicks at their desk. Sir comes down but stops on the stairs, staring at Gran with a dropped jaw, trying to figure out why someone would dress up as a young, tall, handsome, in his prime Gran Torino. And also why there's a crying child there. Gran snaps that it is very much him, he got hit with a quirk, and would Sir like to do something useful, please?

4- Sir apologizes to Eri for Torino's bad manners, and asks her what's wrong. She mentions Chisaki's name, something he knows as a connection to the Yakuza but not much more, and then explains the bandages when asked. It's a pretty clear, terrible case of abuse, and as he used his quirk, they're allowed to step in instead of handing it back to the police. Eri is terrified that Chisaki will find and attack them for taking her, but Gran says he didn't lose his brains with his wrinkles- he knows how to notice if he was being followed, and he was too quick for a tail. Then he asks how long her quirk lasts for, and she starts crying again because she hates it and can't undo it. For a moment, Gran and Sir share a look. A "we're terrible people for thinking about this" look, a "but, if she can rewind people..." look, a "Toshinori..." look. Then Sir looks down and shakes his head. Obviously it won't work, or All Might will refuse, because otherwise Sir have seen the difference in that vision of his death. Gran lets it go because he doesn't want to think about the vision either, he's still not happy Sir looked without permission even if he also wishes Toshi were enjoying retirement by now.

5- well, that's almost true. Gran changes the topic and says "Well, since we know Toshinori won't actually die of a heart attack on seeing me like this, why don't I go over there to show him in person?" Sir puts his head in his hands, but can't think of a way to stop him. Gran holds out his hand to Eri, says UA will be a safe place to wait, Nedzu will let her while Sir takes care of the paperwork on her case, and she can come see All Might. Eri blinks up as she takes his hand and asks who All Might is. Sir collapses to the ground, but Gran just laughs, and tells her stories on the way there.

+1 Toshi didn't have a heart attack but he did faint. Izuku was very close to it, eyes nearly popping out of his head before he looked around for the real Gran Torino since this is clearly another obvious prank.

#pocket talks to people #anon #ask game

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impossiblesongs · 2 months

Text

it's a god-awful small affair (simm!master x reader)

Summary: You jolt at the voice and the setting powder goes sprawling over the side of your vanity. A chorus of No’s falling from your lips as your eyes trace the culprit shoving the rest of your window open and sticking a boot inside.

Disclaimer: Not my characters. This is a disclaimer.

AN: this pair hasn’t left me and now it’s everyone’s problem AN2: title from david bowie's 'life on mars' AN3: i'm going to try to give backstory and so i figure fluff is in order, enjoy

✍️✍️✍️fic masterlist

it's a god-awful small affair simm!master x reader simm!master timeline: in and around chapter 2 of OG fic

“Aha!”

You jolt at the voice and the setting powder goes sprawling over the side of your vanity. A chorus of No’s falling from your lips as your eyes trace the culprit shoving the rest of your window open and sticking a boot inside.

“I knew you didn’t have work scheduled today! Fibber!

“Christ,” you swore, moving swiftly from behind your vanity to bar the Master further entrance into your bedroom. “You cannot be here!”

“But I am,” the Master tries harder to shove himself inside, only you don’t give an inch, hand perching at the underside of his knee and pushing back.

“Please, come back tomorrow. Please, please, please,” you beg in a panic.

“Move out of the way!”

“You have to go!”

Your bickering is halted by your bedroom door being flung open and your sister walking in, her second babe perched high on her hip.

“Oh, you have a man in your bedroom,” Georgiana states.

“This is, uh, my… my mate! This is.. he’s,” you sputter, trying to think of any possible outcome wherein you tell Georgiana the Master’s name that won’t come back to bite you in the arse. The introduction will end in her immediately conjuring up that you’re obviously in some sort of BDSM relationship, which will then be spread like wildfire throughout the family, and you get enough interference about your romantic situation or lack thereof from them, thank you very much.

Your eyes meet the Master’s in hopes for an out, but he merely beams at your ineptitude. You could slap him.

“I’m Harry,” he finally says, presenting a hand to your sister. “And who is this spry young chap.”

“Hello, Harry, this is Marlow,” Georgiana introduces her son, looking the Master up and down shrewdly. “Now Harry, would you like to tell me why it is you are climbing into my sister’s window when there’s a perfectly far-from-adequate door downstairs?”

“George,” you say.

“Fun!” the Master says.

Georgiana stares at him, her pale blue eyes hard and unrelenting in her scrutiny, and then gently, she begins to laugh. “Oh, what a lark! You must stay for dinner, Harry!”

“George,” you scold. “I don’t quite think it’s th – Harry’s scene.”

“He’s hanging around your apartment with your godawful family due to show, I hardly think he’s too opposed. Are you, Harry?”

“I’ve no plans,” the Master adds, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sorted!” Georgiana grins, hefting Marlow from one hip to the other. “You’d best introduce him to mom and pop, which is what I actually came up to tell you. They’ve just pulled up, Gran jumped ship. Feigned a hip out of place or something.”

“Oh, for the love of,” you roughly grab the Master’s bicep and march him out of your bedroom with the order, “Loo first, wipe off your eyeliner. Don’t be yourself!”

You turn hastily to walk back into your bedroom, your stomach filling with dread the longer you register that yes, this is actually happening. Georgiana is looking out of the window that the Master climbed inside from. The soft light of the evening bathes her with flattery, her complexion is fair and her hair looks spun of gold, eyes a dewey blue.

“It’s not easy to climb up here,” she says, “he must really like you.”

“He’s fond of doing the absolute worst thing,” you answer back, hoping the nerves are not evident in your voice. You refuse to meet her eye.

Georgiana laughs gleefully, “He’s so odd.”

You brush off the comment and shrug your shoulders, “So he’s odd.”

“No, I mean. He seems fun, if a bit emo and peculiar. He’s handsome, mother will positively hate that he’s older than you, which is a certifiable plus! And, look at it this way, you can hardly get another Samual Rosshart, hmm? Not even the universe could be that cruel to you. You should invite him to the wedding!”

You figure you should cut her off before any of this can go further, “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

Georgiana quirks a brow and flattens Marlow’s fine baby hair, kissing the crown of his head.

“Touchy,” she says, before moving towards the door.

You sigh and follow.

You hold a glass of champagne in your hand and wonder how in the hell is the Master engaged in comfortable debate with your father at the other side of the room, a man whom he’s taken to calling ‘Berry.’ Your father only lets people in his immediate family call him by his name, which is Tiberius. For anyone else it is Sir, and for his children in particular. And your mother is no better, hanging off the Master’s shoulder, her shrill laughter can probably be heard all the way to bloody Mars.

“Well, it seems you’ve won the lottery, dear sis,” your sister’s husband, Maximus, comments over your shoulder. “Your old mum won’t have to put you down so soon now that you’re in the race.”

“Pithy,” you say, downing your glass. You hate existing in this absurdity that happens within your parents’ vicinity. Their suffocating expectation that always starts on a lukewarm reception only to taper down into their eventual and immovable disappointment, their scathing veiled rhetoric passed off as affection.

“Don’t take it too hard, old girl,” Maximus pats your shoulder sympathetically. “Least you can do for us is take the shine for a night so we can get a chance to go lick our wounds.”

“Too true,” Georgiana butts in and takes her husband’s vodka glass, having joined your little corner in hell from putting the kids down on your bed for their evening nap. "Mum's twat is in a bunch over how you possibly have no prospects at your age. Prospects, she said! Like we're in the 1800s."

"I'm sure for her it is, she's been to powder her nose six times since she's arrived," Maximus hush-says. "Her gait is starting to lean ever so precariously to the right."

"God, I need to steal whatever she's got stashed," Georgiana snickers into her husband's shoulder. "You know it's the good stuff too, horrible fucking example, she is."

“I need some air,” you knock shoulders with George on your way to the kitchen but pay it no mind. You exit through the back door and immediately seek out the cigarettes you’ve hidden at the top corner of the archway, breaking the new packet, and shoving a stick into your mouth. Relaxation swarms your body the second you light and inhale nicotine.

“What’s a Samual Rosshart?”

“Ohmygod,” you start, glaring at the Master who is now standing in front of you. Of all the vexations today has wrought, the one that sticks is, “Why were you listening?!”

The Master sniggers, eyeing you as if you’re particularly soft in the head, before stealing the cigarette from your lips.

“In your own time,” he says, taking a puff. “So, you’re adopted.”

“I’m adopted,” you confirm.

“And Berry and Matt?”

You laugh helplessly at his absurd little nicknames for your parents and you steal the cigarette back before you wring his neck.

“Tiberius and Mathilda married young, both from disgustingly rich families but the riches are not easy to come by," you say.

The Master hums in assent.

“Well, to tell you the unequivocal truth, they adopted me because a clause to Dad getting his inheritance was that he had to start a family within the first three years of marriage, and they were having trouble conceiving. Georgiana came about two years after I was adopted. That happens apparently, conceiving comes easier without all the pressures. I was about seven. I had a friend in her, after that.”

“After that,” the Master narrows his eyes, “as in you didn’t before?”

“I mean, they weren’t terrible to me. I had the best of everything, clothes, food, home, tutors. It’s just that… well, they’re terribly privileged individuals. Vapid and practically bred to be lifelong alcoholics, you should see the family tree. They were very hands-off, for me and Georgie. They took care of where we would be, who would take care of us, trot us from place to place when we needed to be seen as a unit, but mostly Georgie and I were our own ocean until we got older, more sociable in adult circles. Mum always went on about the stiff upper lip and all that.”

“And Samuel Rosshart?” the Master prompts.

You try not to physically wilt at the past, but you feel your cheeks warm immediately. You tell yourself it’s just the draft of the evening. “He was, well. I suppose he was the first person I ever fell for.”

You pause, tearing over the images of a life once lived, of your girlhood innocence blossoming into something of a nightmare. Of first loves and tying yourself to someone who could bring about such unwavering tragedy. Over how, after, you've feared you’re doomed to incur such beginnings and endings, helpless to it. It feels like a brand on your soul now, an absolute certainty, that you attract these things. It's why you’ve never really dated seriously. This first time was enough.

You try to push it all out steadily and succinctly, through gritted teeth, “Sadly, he was also a raging narcissistic sociopath. He killed two girls in our year, he had me on that list at some point I’m sure.”

“And,” you feel the Master’s fingers bump into yours and you hand the cigarette over without a glance.

“And I sat him down and told him I knew what he was up to,” you say, “and then asked him to tell me, in plain detail, his every why. Needless to say it gave him pause.”

The Master cackles outright, startling you with the strength of his amusement. He covers his mouth with a hand to stop the outburst, cigarette dangling between his graceful fingers.

“I’m sorry, I.. that’s terrible,” but he doubles over with unrestrained enjoyment, laughing so hard that his face is beet red when he looks back up at you, having to take a moment to catch his breath. “Oh, pet. You’ve no idea how your obvious human defect is actually the funniest thing about you.”

“You know I thought you’d… I don’t know, mock me, or something,” you confess. “Poor little rich girl, the worst of cliches.”

“Well, are you?”

He offers the cigarette back to you, it’s nearly a stub.

“Am I – what? Sad?”

You take it.

“Rich,” he says.

“Ah. As it stands, no. Berry and Matt, as you call them, pay for this little hovel - their term - and my college, food. But like his father before him, I have to meet my own father’s clause to even hope to access a single cent.”

“Could kill them for you,” he offers, giving a vicious grin you can’t help but mirror. “But actually, what I was thinking, is that it makes us much more alike than we both initially thought.”

“How so?”

“I suppose, in every intended way,” the Master glances up at the evening sky, “we can never really go home.”

“Well, you can always kip here,” you bump your shoulder into his.

“Bugger off, I agree with your parents this place is so pedestrian,” the Master grimaces and pushes away from you. “We both well know, you’ll kip at mine,” the Master throws an arm over your shoulder. “Now come on, Berry sent me to fetch you.”

You groan in misery, allowing him to usher you back inside, where your parents do not hesitate to launch for your proverbial throat the second you are back in their grasp.

Thankfully, with the Master at your side, he makes quick work of trading barbs with the best of them. The evening goes by a whole lot quicker than you’d ever hoped. You feel… shielded, almost. And concerned, the Master plays the most quintessential snob. Your parents are half in love with him by the time they take their leave.

“You can never do that again,” you tell the Master when it’s over and your parents, sister and her family are well out of sight, “ever! If I tell you not to come ‘roud, there’s a reason. Please, promise me?”

The Master smiles at you so insufferably that you want to push him out of a window.

“Bribe me,” he says.

#the master x reader #simm!master x reader #wyrwtd

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