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deandoesthingstome · 11 months

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Heart Wide Open

Pairing: Syverson x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: just some talk about sexual situations, a little pining

A/N: There is a lot going on that isn’t Syverson these days, but this just came to me in a haze and I wanted to write it down and send it off to the world. Much like this letter you decided you needed to write to the guy you spent a few weeks with before he shipped out. It was no big deal, right?

Dear Sy,

I hope it’s okay that I'm writing. You said I could if I wanted to. It was weird addressing the envelope (yes, I addressed the envelope before I started this letter; I was nervous. Sue me.) Writing your full name, I mean. You said I could just call you Sy, but I’m doubting the US Army knows how to find you by just Sy.

Or maybe they do.

Anyway. I was thinking about you the other day, in the oddest place. I mean, it’s not an odd place for me. Just a strange place to be thinking about you. I was at the yoga studio for an evening class. It was one of those “hippy dippy” classes you liked to tease me about. Not the power flow classes that you almost respected, but the slow, stretchy, touchy-feely one with the real quiet voices and everything on the ground.

Anyway. I started thinking about the way your fingers and lips danced over my skin when you had me naked on my back. The way you held the swell of my tits in your hands. The way it felt when you kissed my lips and then my neck, down my chest and onto my belly. The way you didn’t hesitate at all between my legs. I remembered the way it felt every time you sank your hips against mine and pressed into me, rocking with some kind of magic that let you hold on while I let go, over and over again.

I wonder how long this letter is going to take to get to you and where you’ll be when it arrives. Will you be able to read it in privacy? God I hope so. Maybe I should rip this up and start again.

Except I can’t, because I wanted to tell you how I think about what it’ll be like for you when you get this letter. If maybe you’ll be able to stay quiet in your bunk. Or maybe you have a private room somehow. Because I hope that when you read about the way I think about you, you’ll think about me, too. And maybe, while you’re reading this, you’ll need to unbutton your pants while you think about the way I used to take you between my lips. And maybe you’ll try to imagine it’s my hand wrapped around you.

God I hope you weren’t kidding about all those times you shifted me up and over your chest so I could settle right down on your tongue and let you make me scream again while I held onto the headboard. You said you liked doing that and I definitely like having it done, so maybe that’s something you’ll think about.

God, Sy, I fucking miss you so much. Maybe I’m not supposed to say that this soon. But I do. I know I’m probably not supposed to say a lot of these things in this letter. (Fuck, does the military read your letters like you were in prison? God I hope not!)

But I just can’t stop myself from telling you how I feel. I held back when you left. I didn’t want to make you nervous. Like you owed me anything. But I really like you, Sy. I never thought I’d say that about someone like you. But you made it so easy to look past our differences and find the things we had in common, even if just for that short amount of time.

I know it was just a little companionship before you left. I mean, that’s all we said it would be. But I think about you all the fucking time, and I miss you.

I know I’m supposed to keep it light. Talk about the day to day so you can keep a little of home in your head. Okay, but when I think about telling you about the new restaurant they opened up downtown, all I can imagine is taking you there when you get home. (Yes, fine, I know. Letting you take me there when you get home. Whatever.) I think you’d like it, Sy. It’s pretty all-american food but in a nicer-than-a-bar atmosphere. And I know, there’s nothing wrong with a bar. It is, afterall, where we met.

But I wondered if the end of the night would turn out the same if you took me home from this restaurant instead of from the bar. If you’d still want to tear my clothes off as soon as we stepped over the threshold and locked the door. If I’d have to remind you to keep it down for the neighbors before I just gave up and joined you, funny looks in the parking lot be damned.

If we’d even make it to the bedroom, or if you’d take me bent over on the couch first, the way you did that first night. I really fucking liked that. Did I tell you that? I’m sure I did, but just in case. Sy. You can fuck me bent over the couch any time you want.

Shit, there I go again. I should really rip this up and start over. Except you said I could say anything I wanted if I decided to write. Come to think of it, why did you ask me to write? We said we were keeping it light, and I didn’t want to scare you off, but something about the way you asked me to write…Should I have said something sooner? Before you got on that bus?

Fuck. Okay. So I’m supposed to tell you about the everyday. But my everyday was always so much different than your everyday, remember? It was a fluke I was at that bar that night. An out of town friend who had a thing for military guys. We were just out catching up. I figured we’d have a few drinks, she’d find someone to shack up with, and I’d send her on her way with his details on a piece of paper in case she didn’t make it home the next day.

God I was so uncomfortable there. I couldn’t believe she’d talked me into it. And I was about to turn around and walk out when you walked in. Remember? How could you forget? I crashed right into you. And you apologized even though it was so clearly my fault, and you bought me and my friend a round and sat with us while you waited for your buddies.

I swear, Sy. I had no idea she’d take both of them home that night, leaving you all alone with little old me. But you didn’t care. We closed that bar down. I never do that. And after you came home with me that night, after you took me on that couch, and then the bed, and later in the shower before you left? You called me.

God I’m really stupid, aren’t I? Telling you all this like you weren’t there. But in writing this all down, I’m seeing so many signs I must have just willfully ignored. You made time for me, over and over again even though you were getting ready to ship out. Was I that reserved, maybe even a little standoff-ish, that you worried if you came on too strong, I’d run? Is that why you said, “just a bit of fun, okay?” To make it easier for me?

Hey, when you come back, we should go to dinner. Maybe a movie. I know a great place to go hiking. Sy, I want to spend more time with you. I guess that’s what this letter is all about. And I know I started off talking about how well you fucked me, and I mean that for sure. But I want you to know I really liked our times together even when we weren’t fucking. I liked talking with you about the things we agree and disagree on. I liked seeing you laugh. I loved it when you made me laugh.

Shit. I think I really fucked this up, Sy. I know I was supposed to keep it light. But I just can’t. I want you to know, so there’s no misunderstanding. I’m waiting for you to come back. I’ll keep an eye on the mail, too. If you write back and tell me I read it all wrong, I mean, it’ll suck, but I’ll respect that.

But I couldn’t let you go on over there thinking there wasn’t anyone back home thinking about you and wishing you well every night. That yoga class the other day? Her theme was heart openers. Every pose, designed to drop the collarbones away from the chest and open up the space. I guess that’s how I got to thinking about you. During the meditation, she invited us to send love first to ourselves, then to someone we care about, and finally even to someone we don’t particularly care about.

Taglist: @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @raccoon-eyed-rebel @mayloma @geralts-yenn @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @thesaucynomad @just-chirpin

But when it was someone I care about, I sent my love to you, Sy. I’m sending it to you now. I’ve got my heart wide open for you. I hope you want it.

Part 2

#captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson fic #syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #heart wide open #henry cavill characters #mine #deandoesthingstome

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lovelylotusf1 · 4 days

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Cut open your Heart

Summary:

“I’ll show you how well I can bite.”

It's how it always ends. They will push each other, and they will fight and then they will fuck. Easy. Predictable. And today's no different.

Or is it?

Oscar Piastri/Carlos Sainz | 4k words | rated E

Read on AO3! (Archive Locked)🔐

My own web-weave which inspired this & acts as a moodboard.

WARNINGS:

This fic contains Graphic Depictions of Violence. More detailed tags below:

Unreliable Narrator Carlos

Violent Thoughts

Auditory & Visual Hallucinations, specifically:

Blood

Brief mention of Cannibalism

Choking

A bit of Body Horror if you squint

If you feel like I've missed anything, please reach out to me so I can add it! Stay safe <3

Tagging some nice people @raapija @foggieststars @wisteriagoesvroom @jusst-you-race . But don't feel pressured to read if the tags aren't your thing!

#hey look it's the first fic i feel the need to archive lock!#what this ship does to a person #carcar #carlos sainz #oscar piastri #f1 rpf #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #lotus wrote something #fic: cut open your heart

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allaboardsubmas · 2 months

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Okay we all have the 'haha what if Emmet in Legends ZA' joke, but you know what this means if it actually ends up being true or we pretend it is?

We can make it so Ingo wasn't just ripped away from his brother with Emmet having no idea where he was. No, instead we can make it so the two were together when the portals snatched them and they got ripped away while they were still trying to hold onto each other

Both of them forgot everything but their names because that was the last thing they remember being screamed at them

#submas #unlikely? yes #is it canon in my heart anyways? also yes #lbr yall this is about to open so many more paths of fanfiction

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arsoooooonmun · 10 months

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Sick Hearts, One Thump. — Chapter 1

— an Abby Anderson x Reader fanfic

Working with Abby Anderson, aka your ex-girlfriend, was harder than you thought. Who knew she'll drunk text you repeatedly in the middle of the night?

[files attached are 2 pictures and 296 words for narration.]

While you were tending Abby — whose eyes were completely shut and sleeping soundly, your thoughts waved to the question Ellie left off.

"Why did y'all even break up?"

You and Abby became friends in the summer heat. Meeting in the neighbourhood, you just moved in.

She greeted you with a whole smile on her face, that is because she "saw a new best friend" , the little Abby would say.

Despite your very introverted little self, you openly welcomed Abby in your life. Without you realising time has passed.

Shockingly, that's how your friends told you, Abby confessed first. It was at the favourite place you both loved to stay at. Watching the sunrise or sunset while eating ice cream.

It was… romantic.

You never thought Abby had it in her, that's why tears started swelling in your face. Of course she started panicking and rambling stuff that you didn't understand because you kissed her in the middle of it.

You were such a romantic too.

Five years after being officially together with Abby, you finally graduated college. Meanwhile, Abby was still stuck in the hell of the medical field. Yes, you took a different path than Abby, focusing more on business.

And that's where things started to be a blur.

You and Abby fought.

No one knew what it was about, and you were starting to forget it too.

"I told you. I never saw her that way."

"Then why did I see you kissing her!"

Months after that, you saw Abby enter Joel's building — the building you are working at, holding files, and it looks like she just got accepted.

All hell breaks loose.

#abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson #the last of us fanfiction #i thought this was gonna flop LMAO #i am open for any criticism plz i want to entertain yall #i am gay fr #ellie is here of course #sick hearts one thump chapter 1 #angst

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liaromancewriter · 4 months

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Daddy’s Girl

Premise: A poignant moment between father and daughter after the poison attack.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Robert Valentine (OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff. Words: 1,510

A/N: Submission for @choicesjanuary2024 day 16 prompt "relationships". I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 69, prompt 3

Robert Valentine had a plan. He’d graduate from college, sail around the world and then settle down to live out the Valentine legacy of working in the family business. His father also had a plan, and it featured only two of the three items on his list.

Unable to say no to the strict man who’d raised him, Robert gave up his dream of feeling the wind in his hair on the open seas. A chance encounter in Greenwich during summer break from Wharton further altered his plans.

A year later, he was married to a woman who not only shared his love of adventure but actively encouraged his carefree side. Becoming parents hadn’t been part of the plan, at least not so soon after getting married. But fate had other ideas.

As they stared down at the two tiny humans behind the glass of the nursery at Newport Hospital, he gently hooked one arm around Olivia’s waist. The boy was restless while the girl was asleep, their hands lightly touching.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Olivia murmured, still tired, her head resting on his shoulder.

Even though they’d known Olivia was carrying multiples, seeing them was a different reality. On top of that, the twins had arrived a month early. They still hadn’t landed on names or completed the nursery in the townhouse they’d bought near his work.

“We should come up with appropriate names,” he said quietly after a while. “Can’t keep calling them Thing One and Thing Two.”

“Imagine the shock on our parents’ faces if we put that on their birth certificates,” Olivia teased, her eyes swimming with laughter.

Robert chuckled, folding his wife in his arms. Being a father would change him; it was inevitable. But he didn’t have to give up his dreams, just adjust them for two more.

Now, all these years later, Robert watched his daughter’s even breathing as she lay sleeping on the hospital bed and wished he could turn back time to when she was a baby, tucked safe and sound in his arms.

The last two days had been harrowing and emotional. The panicked call from his son in the middle of the night, the long flight to Boston from Paris, the uncertainty about Cassie’s condition, and the anger when he and Olivia were denied entrance into the hospital.

But that was all over now, he sighed in relief. His daughter was no longer on death’s door. It would take time, but he’d been assured she would recover. If he thought Cassie wouldn’t be pissed at him for doubting her precious Dr. Ramsey, Robert would’ve whisked her off to the best specialists in the world for a second opinion.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Cassie’s eyelids fluttering as she slowly awoke. But he heard her whimpers and the sound of sheets rustling. He was out of the chair and by her bedside seconds before her eyes drifted open.

“Hey, kiddo,” Robert smiled softly, taking her hand.

“Daddy?” Cassie said in a confused tone, her voice reed thin and somewhat raspy.

She struggled to sit up, and he placed a steadying hand on her back while pressing a control button on the guardrail to raise the bed’s head. He adjusted the pillow to support her neck and poured a glass of water when she started coughing.

“Better?”

When she nodded, Robert set the glass down on the table. He turned away to drag the visitor’s chair closer to the bed and sat down, covering her hand with his palm. They smiled at each other, matching green eyes.

“You haven’t called me kiddo since I was ten,” she commented, smiling despite the sudden discomfort under her sternum.

The machines she was hooked up to briefly beeped before settling down as the pain subsided. Robert stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Old habits,” he said, taking his eyes off the flashing numbers on the monitor. “You haven’t called me Daddy since you and Max decided that word was for babies.”

“Well, I feel weak as a baby right now, so that could be the reason,” she joked, and then tears filled her eyes, dripping down her cheeks. “I was so scared I’d never see you or Mom again. ”

Robert leaned in and wiped the tears away with his fingers, shushing her the way he used to when she was five and had a nightmare.

“When I was in that room, all I could think of was the last time you took us sailing,” she continued in a watery voice. “It was just before I moved to Boston. The fresh ocean breeze tossing my hair, the taste of salt on our lips as water crashed around us. Max cursing as the unruly waves rocked the boat and almost tipped us over. Your laughter booming in the wind. That feeling of truly being alive.”

Leaving the chair, he sat on the side of the bed and folded her into his arms, mindful of the drip lines and wires.

“You are alive, Cassie honey,” he whispered over and over as sobs wracked her body, and she burrowed her face into his chest. “You’re here, safe in my arms.”

Eventually, the storm passed, and he returned to his seat. The comforting silence stretched, broken only by the beeps and hums of the machines.

“Where’s Mom?”

“At the hotel, hopefully getting some rest,” Robert explained. “She barely slept these last couple of days. Max, too. Your brother pretends to be invincible, but he was running on fumes by the time we got here.”

“Maybe if he drank coffee every now and then,” Cassie said with a wry twist of her lips.

Robert shook his head in amusement and chuckled, well familiar with his children’s opposing views on this matter and their needling of each other as a result.

“Have you seen Ethan?”

“Yes, he dropped by an hour ago to check on you,” Robert replied, hiding his disquiet at how Cassie’s eyes locked on the closed door, waiting for the other man to walk in.

He steepled his index fingers under his chin as he sprawled on the chair, stretching his legs out under the bed. “I take it you’re both still hiding your relationship?”

Robert was glad Cassie at least had the good sense to look abashed. He wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but his wife was convinced it was the real deal and they should give the couple space to work it out. Olivia’s instincts were flawless, which was the only reason he exercised restraint.

“What do you think of him?” she asked, her eyes beseeching him to understand. “You didn’t say anything during or after the weekend in Newport. I really want you to like him, Daddy.”

“He’s certainly different from Jackson or anyone else you’ve dated before,” he said neutrally. “Older, reserved, and perhaps a little austere for my carefree daughter.”

“That’s just the side he shows everyone else,” Cassie said, her voice full of conviction. “He’s different when it’s just the two of us. Granted, our relationship is still evolving, but he cares for me, deeply.”

“I know, Cassie,” Robert said, remembering the tender look in the other man’s eyes earlier. “This isn’t up for debate. But as your father, I’m allowed to be concerned. Gossip from a workplace romance is rarely kind to the woman, especially when there’s a power imbalance.”

He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “You still have two years left in your training here. All I ask is that you be careful and protect your reputation if not your heart.”

Before Cassie could respond, there was a perfunctory knock on the door, and then it swung open. Ethan Ramsey crossed the threshold and suddenly stopped, causing the nurse accompanying him to crash into his back, the tray in her hand rattling before she steadied it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ethan said, his brows furrowing as if sensing he’d stepped into a quagmire. “We need to draw Dr. Valentine’s blood, check her vitals and run a few tests.”

“Yes, of course,” he said, pushing the chair back and standing up. “I’ll let you get on with it while I grab a coffee and check in on Olivia.”

Robert turned to smile down at Cassie. “Why don’t I get you something to eat?”

“Well, I am feeling a bit peckish,” Cassie mused, a teasing twinkle in her eyes. “Hospital food sucks.”

“I’ll ask the chef at the hotel to whip up your favorites.” Robert leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Be good, and no more heroics.”

He nodded at Ethan, who came to stand across from him on the other side of the bed. He noted the softness in Cassie’s eyes, the concern in Ethan’s and felt like a third wheel.

As Robert left the room, he glanced at the nurse, oblivious to their situation, and hoped Cassie heeded his advice. Ethan seemed decent enough, but if he hurt Cassie…. Well, when it came to his children, all bets were off.

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All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart choices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine

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potionsprefect · 2 months

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Adjusting

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Victoria is back at work, and not everything is the same

Rating: Teen

Category: Angst, Fluff

Victoria sat down in the cafeteria, a whole pizza in front of her. Today was her first day back at work since the Senator attack. She knew she would have to come back eventually but it didn’t seem real that she was finally back, sat in her white coat, helping those who desperately needed it.

She was desperately avoiding the corridor where her room was. She knew all she would see would be herself in that room, terrified of whether she was going to die. The team had a patient in there but Victoria hadn’t met them yet.

Slowly, Victoria ate her lunch. She had opted to go early to avoid the queues but she really avoiding doing as much work with the patient as possible. Instead, she stayed in the teams room, helping devise a treatment plan. It was unlike Victoria to hide away and she knew she was being unprofessional.

A figure sat down in front of her, a handsome but concerned look on his face. “You’re in here early.” Ethan said.

“I wanted to beat the lunchtime queue.” Victoria shrugged.

“So it’s nothing to do with you wanting to avoid the patients room?” Ethan folded his arms, an eyebrow raised.

Victoria sighed. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yes. And I don’t need to tell you that it is also unprofessional. But we’re letting you figure it out on your own. You know you can’t avoid that room forever.” Ethan said.

“I know I just… I can’t go back in there. All I see is myself, struggling to fight for life.”

“Maybe you’ve come back too soon.”

Victoria sighed. “It’s not down to me. Blame the system.”

“You know to take it one step at a time. But I’m saying this as your boss and not as your boyfriend. I would like to see you visit at least once before the end of your shift. And I’m saying this as your boyfriend. I’ll come with you if you want.” Ethan reached across the table and took Victorias hand in his.

“I think this is something I need to do myself. But thank you for the offer.” Victoria smiled. “I will probably come back to the office as quickly as possible.”

“Then I’ll be in the office waiting for you with a hug.” Ethan smiled.

Victoria ate the rest of her pizza, quiet in the presence of Ethan. She knew this would be one of the biggest parts of her recovery to date and the longer she put it off, the harder it would be further down the line.

Today would be the day she faced it. The day she proved to herself how strong she really is.

Victoria took several deep breaths as the elevator doors opened. She was thankful that she was in the lift alone for which she could deal with her emotions by herself and not have to embarrass herself in front of anyone else.

The only sound that could be heard was Victoria’s shoes as she walked slowly down the empty corridor. Victoria loved it like this, an empty corridor where she could consider her thoughts was always better than a crowded one.

She cast her mind back to that day, all she could see from her room was the frantic faces of her colleagues who were rushing about trying desperately to find a cure.

We’re running out of time. What if they don’t make it?

The voices were loud and frantic, panic evident in their voices. Victoria wanted desperately to smash her way through the glass and break free.

Victoria approached the window and saw the patient gazing out the window. Victoria smiled softly at the patient. It seemed surreal to think of the horrors this room saw not that long ago.

With a gentle push, Victoria opened the room door. “Mrs Winston? I’m Doctor Clarke. How are you feeling?”

“Oh much better thank you. I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you one of the doctors working alongside the team?” Mrs Winston smiled.

“I am. I’ve been helping draw up some treatment plans for you. I apologise for not coming to visit you sooner.” Victoria replied.

“I understand dear. I remember reading on the news about the awful events that happened here. I’m glad you’re alive.” She smiled.

“Thank you. And I have no doubt that the team and I will help find out what’s wrong with you soon.” Victoria smiled.

After a while, Victoria left the room, heading back to the diagnostics teams office. She felt lighter on her feet, happier even. She had done it and now it was over, she could look forward even further.

Victoria reached the office and opened the door. Ethan was sat at his desk, paperwork in front of him.

“How did it go?” Ethan stood up and walked over to Victoria.

“Better than I hoped. It wasn’t easy but it’s done now.” Victoria said.

Ethan took her face in his hands. “I am so proud of you. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Victoria pulled away after a few seconds, resting her forehead against his, eyes closed. “This isn’t easy.”

“It was never going to be. Recovery is slow and sometimes painful.” Ethan pulled her to his chest, running a gentle hand through Victoria’s hair.

“I just don’t like living in uncertainty. I want to know what’s happening and I want to know when. But I know that can’t happen and I should just accept whatever comes my way.” Victoria said.

“You don’t need to rush anything further. It can all go at your own pace.” Ethan smiled.

“What if I’m like this for a long time? What if you don’t want to put up with that?” Victoria asked.

“I will endure anything for you. And I don’t care how long it takes. Your health is number one priority and no matter how long your recovery is, I will be by your side throughout.”

“You’re a really good man you know that?”

Ethan laughed. “So I’ve been told. By all the right people.”

Victoria always knew that coming back to work was never going to be easy. But she knew that as long as she has the right people by her side, she could face anything.

And she had exactly that with Ethan. Her fiercest and most loyal protector.

I made it sad and then I made it happy lol

Tag list: @ohchoices @swiftiexstarwarssimp @queencarb @genevievemd @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @gryffindordaughterofathena @sophxwithers @romewritingshop @coffeeheartaddict2 @mm2305 @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @nishas-paradise @replayfootsteps @mainstreetreader @lsvdw-blog @kiara-36 @quixoticdreamer16 @headoverheelsforramsey @shanzay44 @itsjustamesshonestly @josiesopenheart @mysticalgalaxysstuff @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @kachrisberry @rookiemartin @jamespotterthefirst @a-crepusculo @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @wanderingamongthewildflowers @rosebudde @lucy-268 @liaromancewriter @bex-la-get @writer-ish @toadfrog26 @tessa-liam @peonierose @cariantha @kyra75 @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x victoria clarke #ethan x victoria #playchoices #fanfic #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices: open heart #angst #fluff #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

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the-pale-goddess · 4 months

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Vices & Virtues - Ethan Ramsey x MC

Dr. Ramsey's weaknesses don’t disturb his everyday life often, but when they do, a certain intern happens to always be involved.

Book: Open Heart, Intern Year (between Chapters 5 & 6)

Warnings: language, my rusty writing, a truckload of pining

Rating/Category: Teen+ / fluffy angst

Author’s note: [insert the ‘surprise, bitch’ & 'it's been 84 years' reaction GIFs]

I’m eternally grateful for the very few angels still waiting for new E&T content—this one’s for you 🫶🏻 Hope you’ll find a moment to read my word vomit and enjoy the mess (aka my writing). I appreciate every comment and like more than words can convey!

Edenbrook is indigestible on Mondays. Though Ethan Ramsey doesn’t believe in whatever ‘curse’ humankind attributed to an absolutely random day, he cannot deny the madness that usually ensues upon the beginning of each week. An inexplicable air of post-weekend malaise does tend to envelop the globe, and Boston is no lucky exception.

“Mondays suck!”

Striding across the hustly-bustly pediatric ward, Doctor Ramsey overhears an agitated boy explicitly expressing his annoyance.

Ethan’s Monday has been a doozy of a day as well, but he’d rather keep his troubles six feet under, preferably in concrete. Nevertheless, a drop of sympathy implores him to stop near the patient’s room and watch the scene unfold at a safe distance.

The child blows a raspberry at the nurse preparing him for a corridor-long wheelchair ride, clearly upset about the surgery he’s being taken to.

A heavy sigh followed by the unmistakable giggle of a certain copper-haired radiologist interrupts Ethan’s first break during today’s demanding shift.

“It’s not Monday, kid. It’s just your life.” Doctor Herbert whispers into Ethan’s ear, a large cup of raspberry tea in her hand. “But at least it’s going to be all rainbows and candy again in three weeks.”

Meanwhile, the situation has escalated quickly: a river of tears streams down the young Monday-hater's cheeks now, his concerned mother shooting pleading looks between her shuddering offspring and the strict nurse trying to efficiently finish the task so she could move on with her hectic schedule.

A pang of dejection pierces Ethan all of a sudden when a long-forgotten fragment of the past he buried flashes through his mind. Before its splinters reopen old wounds, he swiftly pushes the unwanted memory back to the unexplored depths of his psyche.

“I don’t think he’s heard you.”

“Gee, Doctor Ramsey, share some of that cheerful attitude with the rest of us!” Liz nudges his side, almost spilling her hot beverage on his foot. She mouths an apology, but his unimpressed gaze falls elsewhere.

“You wouldn’t even know what to do with it.”

“Thank God your interns still haven’t caught that grumpiness you’re suffering from.”

“No need to worry, it’s not contagious.” He gives a dismissive wave of his hand, partially to announce his departure, then continues the journey to his primary destination: the harmonious sanctuary of his private office.

As soon as the elevator door closes behind Ethan, the confined space becomes his temporary resort. He takes a deep breath, rubbing his sunken, aweary eyes to relieve the tension—an aching remnant of the sleepless night. The exhaustion begins to mess with his senses, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary; permanent fatigue has been his steadfast companion for more than a decade of his career as a doctor.

There’s a crack in that orderly, borderline clinical life of his, as big as a closed fist, and he’s slowly beginning to realize its detrimental consequences.

But none of that matters now.

What matters is that his desperate efforts to bend Naveen’s stubbornness weren’t in vain; there’s still hope—a notion Ethan isn’t exactly on board with, but he puts his trust in science, and beyond any doubt science will point him in the right direction. As long as there’s time, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his mentor, his friend. He’s confident he can do it, he’s capable of diagnosing and curing whichever mysterious illness keeps Naveen captive.

He’s the only one who can do it.

A double shot of deep roasted espresso shall help this cause. Or, at the very least, make his Monday slightly more endurable.

Loud metallic thud followed by a streak of bright fluorescent lighting annunciates the arrival. Empty, windowless corridor welcomes his nostrils with the odious mixture of staleness and antiseptic, typical of the office wing on the sixth floor. He operates on autopilot, mindlessly trudging ahead, marginally consoled by the aura of eerie quietude. Blissfully oblivious to what the so-called Manic Monday has prepared for him next.

All his rational thought and peerless logic evaporate into thin air the second his drowsy gaze zooms in on the old waiting room under renovation currently withheld by the recent budget cuts. Within its hoary walls, a familiar sylphlike figure catches his eye, unwittingly staking her claim to his undivided attention.

Ethan’s dire need of coffee has vanished as well; he’s wide awake now.

Smiling to herself, a sense of pride evident in the alluring dimples carved into her cheeks, Doctor Addams arranges a stack of papers atop a massive couch protected by thin plastic sheet.

Ethan acknowledges that he must ignore the tempest raging inside his chest, but he’s unable to focus on anything else other than the energy she exudes, luring him in like a siren’s song.

This isn’t the first time the infamous Doctor Terminator is utterly powerless in the face of her—the most intriguing mystery he’s tempted to unravel for some godforsaken, unfathomable reason.

Everything he knows about Tiffany Addams has been collateral damage from their close proximity and the isolating nature of their work. Against better judgment, Ethan has stored every single crumb of information thrown at him, like it’s a treasure guarded in the vault of his mind, acquiring new pieces and adding them to this clandestine collection.

With certainty, there’s a new element behind that glass wall, ready to be studied in secret.

As though pulled by a magnet, his feet carry him towards the room while Ethan shuffles through a myriad of excuses plausible enough to start a conversation. A good excuse, however, requires an elaborate background story, supported by a carefully planned follow-up—both of which clearly out of his reach at the moment.

Fully aware of the possible disaster awaiting inside, Ethan steps into the room quietly, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed over his chest. A sophisticated scent of sultry vanilla wrapped with notes of luminous lavender pervades the space, handily smothering the musty odor of the old hospital furniture stored here for at least a year.

Heedless of his presence, Tiffany remains locked in her own bubble. She’s seated on the couch, browsing through a large leather bag with a lot of noise.

Long onyx locks neatly tamed in a sleek bun reveal the exquisitely sculpted contour of her features, its sharp edges so far removed from the overpowering warmth hiding in her sparkling emeralds and tenacious kindness dripping from the corners of her full mouth.

That stark contrast surely must be a part of her allure, he reckons. Not that there’s any evidence at his disposal—he’s her boss, for fuck’s sake. But the set of cardinal rules applying to the situation doesn’t stop him from looking, nor does it dilute the poison seeping from that singular contaminated thought…

Loud, treacherous voice snarls inside his mind like a beast at the gates of his sanity.

This isn’t staring, this is a comprehensive risk assessment.

Regardless of the pretext, watching her feels almost perverse, but he’s too transfixed to listen to his voice of reason hopelessly trying to redirect him to the path of impeccable propriety.

He can’t look away. Can’t move either. She'll notice him…Eventually.

Is that all he’s become? A disappointment, a fraud. One of the best diagnosticians of the generation, the esteemed Dr. Ethan Ramsey is consistently failing to do his job. His own mind appalls him—once the most treasured asset, his pride and joy, now compromised, useless, struggling to cut through the veil of his inappropriate longing.

Perhaps instead of triggering a spiral of destruction, he should address a more pressing matter: why is there a splotch of purple paint on her cheek?

Better late than never, his focus switches from Tiffany to the negligible surroundings. On her left, spread across the polythene-covered couch, lie a couple of ridiculously abstract drawings, colorful and confusing, each of them made with the skill and precision equal to a six-year-old if he has to guess.

Suddenly, it all clicks.

Along with his tongue.

The short clack doesn’t make her flinch, though she straightens immediately, a glimmer of surprise shining in her riveting eyes when she looks up at the intruder and deems him worthy of a smile. Her lush, rosy lips curl up generously, greeting him with a beam so dazzling his body heats up like bare skin kissed by the blazing midday sun in the middle of summer.

The older doctor doesn’t return the cordial gesture—he has a reputation to uphold and his bruised dignity to save. He quickly takes refuge in the shadow of his perfect decorum, dexterously covering the unjustifiable act of treason committed by his very own carnality.

Tiffany, however, is undeterred in her mission to melt his callous indifference with the disarming sincerity of her vivacious spirit.

“Before you drop your sarcastic grenades on me: no, I have not found my true calling elsewhere. I have not been slacking up either. These aren’t even mine, so insulting someone else’s artistic skills would be totally inappropriate.” Her hand waves over the drawings.

“I wouldn’t dare to insult a respected artist and credit you with their art.” He retorts flatly, then spills the aforementioned sarcasm like the Lord intended. “Early Pollock must cost a fortune or two. How come such rare artworks ended up in your possession?”

His comment inspires a peal of infectious laughter; the powerful melody of Tiffany’s unadulterated amusement conquers the room, all but obliterating the chronic sternness of Ethan’s face.

He cannot help but bask in the glory of this unexpected outcome: he’s the reason behind the glorious, velvety sound; she’s laughing because of him.

“You made a pretty solid assumption, Doctor Ramsey, but I have to disappoint you: early Pollock had an affair with surrealism and his style was way more compositional than this.” She points at the glittery mess splashed in the center of one of the pieces, not so subtly suppressing another wave of laughter.

Miss Addams and her irreplaceable wit painfully remind him of the golden rule he often pretends doesn’t concern his giant ego: do not speak on the topics your knowledge of is insufficient.

Lustrous vivid-green eyes fixed on him and the urgency he’s facing at the moment leave him no choice but to quickly shake off the embarrassment and adapt his reaction accordingly.

Reluctantly, Ethan clings to brutal honesty. “I’m not an art connoisseur, so I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Oh, trust me, you would.”

A smudge of amethyst retrieves the diagnostician’s attention for one split second, demanding a seamless change of topic.

“I presume you spent your lunch break on the pediatric ward again, trying to start a new art movement.”

Doctor Addams gasps theatrically and presses her slender fingers to her mouth, lowering her head slightly. “What gave me away?”

Ethan considers revealing the truth through another shot of bluntly delivered sarcasm (something he would have done in any other case), but his body betrays him, subconsciously drawing near Tiffany.

“Apart from the excited chatter on the second floor? Nothing.” He replies, straining to keep his impeccable composure just as she bites into her lower lip tantalizingly in what appears to be keen anticipation.

A few risky steps later she’s at his arm’s length, and he decides to measure that dangerously short distance; akin to an audience member of some ludicrous soap opera, the diagnostician observes his hand move towards the intern’s face in slow motion, as if that bloody limb wasn’t his and the falsely innocent intention swarming inside his incisive, virtuous mind filled him with repulsion.

Except he wants this. He needs to feel her.

Even though the mere ghost of an idea may bring his demise, he cannot break free, imprisoned by the torturous vision of her vanilla-scented skin gliding smoothly against his.

Much to his bewilderment, her breath quickens just as much as his; the evergreen forest in her eyes bursts into flames when their gazes meet, burning his hesitation down.

She wants this too.

Nothing could convince him to refrain from acting on this forbidden desire now, not a single reasonable thought seems to be charged with a cogent argument.

So he lets his thumb brush down her right cheek, down the lick of wet paint smeared across her warm skin, taking most of the dark purple off the silken canvas along the way.

The sky didn’t tear in half, there was no divine retribution exacted upon a sinner like him, no sign of punishment fit for his appalling misdeed.

“Nothing. At. All.”

Nothing but the silky smoothness of her face, rapid rise and fall of her shapely chest, and fiery heat searing through his veins…

Inevitably, the unbearable tension crackling between them dissipates in a flash when Tiffany snorts at the sight of his acrylic-stained thumb, a soundless ‘fuck’ escapes her mouth as she sprints to find a prompt solution for the paintmergency, stripping him of time to ponder on what the living hell just happened.

He takes advantage of the moment, immediately scolding himself, forcing his thoughts to flee from the crime scene concocted by his newly depraved brain.

“Must be your enviable instinct of an outstanding diagnostician then.” Cheeky as ever, she casts a playful eye over Ethan while rummaging through the drawers, summoning him to focus on her.

Within a long minute, she scuttles back to him, stretched arm offering one of the two pieces of paper towel sprayed with hand sanitizer. They use it to rub the paint off their skin. As soon as they’re done, Ethan quips back. Sort of.

“The balance between mockery and flattery is a bit too delicate to be used in a professional environment, don’t you agree, Addams?”

Unintimidated by the tricky question, Tiffany lifts her shoulder in a half shrug. “It all depends on the intelligence of the person you’re speaking with. You’re ultrawealthy in that department, so I assumed you wouldn’t mind some harmless friendly banter.”

“We’re not friends.” The speed with which he retaliates might have just sealed his fate. Deep down, he doesn’t quite believe those words himself, but there are rules to be followed unconditionally, rules that cannot be broken under any circumstances.

Dark, noble brows accentuating the breadth of her radiance crease together in sheer bewilderment. He can almost hear the scoff she’s choking back when she sees right through the cone-shaped hole in the thick wall separating them.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“We’re getting there.” She nods vigorously, openly mocking his well-meaning mendacity with lips pursed into a thin line and narrowed eyes surveying him diligently.

„An attending befriending his intern? I can’t see that happening.”

A winning grin lights Tiffany’s features up. „It’s already happening, whether you like it or not.”

The more she pushes forward, infuriatingly so, the more he resists, fortifying his helpless defense.

„Would you be kind enough to explain why on Earth would I let it happen?”

“It’s beyond your control.” She shakes her head. „There’s nothing you can do now.”

He frowns at her, takes her fierce expression in, feigning utter disinterest in the mesmerizing spatter of freckles adorning her glowy skin.

Is the intensity of his glare too revealing? Can there be a flash of ardent curiosity swimming in his eyes and acting up against him?

„You’re awfully confident about all the wrong things, Rookie.”

She mimics the military salute, right hand raised sharply, touching her forehead, fingers and thumb extended and joined, palm facing down. „The colossal pain in your ass reporting for duty, sir.”

This display of her goofiness, derived from the smidgeon of irreverence he’s found himself covertly fond of, successfully penetrates his ruptured facade.

At last, Doctor Terminator’s perpetually grim face blooms with an ear-to-ear smile, so wide and genuine that Tiffany blinks once, twice, most probably questioning whether the exceptionally unusual scene in front of her is real.

The way she gapes at his mouth almost drills a hole in him—she’s that awestruck, like a pious believer who stumbled upon irrefutable evidence confirming the foundation of her faith.

“You should smile more. You…” Her plush lips part when she trails off, then sucks in a breath, as if to stop the profanation of their professional relationship jumping on the tip of her tongue from slipping out recklessly.

She wants this too.

“It suits you.”

Ethan’s cheeks erupt with disgraceful heat, resembling an awkward teenager attracting his crush’s attention for the very first time—the feeling almost as mortifying and inexcusable as the unprecedented lack of any snarky response.

As if the worst was yet to come, Tiffany keeps on staring at him with such exhilarating wonder and sureness he doesn’t quite know how to proceed with such abundance of emotion meddling with his stoic approach.

She wants this too.

For a fleeting moment, the abyss of his solitude shrinks significantly, purple paint filling the crack on the illusory contentment with the life he’s chosen, just as her piercing gaze invites him further into the impossible fantasy.

Then, a jolt of sobering guilt runs along his spine in a rude awakening, at the same time when Tiffany realizes the gravity of her daring statement and its perilous implications.

“I, erm…”

“Uhm, my…”

Ethan smashes the uncharacteristic uneasiness descending on them, a benign half-smile and barely perceptible nod encourage her to continue. “Go on.”

Her gaze flickers towards the hall, a tinge of crimson reddening freckled porcelain. “My break is almost over. I should head back to the ER.”

Hell must have frozen over: his fearless protégée, strong-willed and sharp-tongued at all times, befuddles him with this uncommonly demure armor plate she has put on. The most challenging obstacles and cases fail to break her down, stress and pressure never threaten her admirable strength, and yet there she is—bleeding from her own sword.

This supremely fascinating token of hidden vulnerability sheds new light on the beguiling collection of contradictions making her whole.

He examines the younger doctor pacing around the room as she gathers her belongings up, stuffing her capacious bag with them. Half-way, she spins to address him directly and points at her cheek.

“Am I…Still…?”

“No, you’re alright. The paint is gone.”

“Splendid.”

As she goes forward, assembling her patients’ drawings into a neat pile, and—rather intentionally—ignoring Ethan, he readjusts his tie and dives headfirst into the pool of her discomfort.

“Addams?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to dedicate such a vast portion of your free time to helping others.”

She freezes, visibly offended, but still intent on avoiding his gaze. “I know. I want to.”

“What I meant...Is that you need to add yourself to the equation, Tiffany.”

“I’m doing just fine, thank you.” She scoffs, the barely noticeable defensive undertone reverberating in her firm answer not entirely convincing for the diagnostics virtuoso.

His evaluation is disrupted by the abominably loud beeping of Tiffany’s pager. Their eyes finally clash for a brief shootout with no winner before she shuts the damn thing up.

“Well then. See you later, Doctor Ramsey.” She blurts out hastily without giving him a second glance and turns round to rush out of the room, but stops in her tracks near the door.

Something sparks inside that brilliant mind of hers, reigniting her boldness. Dense curtain of long lashes flutters at him over her shoulder, inky-black and luxurious akin to the finest lace, the signature magnetic smile dancing on her lips again—this time infused with genuine concern. She inspects his countenance for a still moment, inch by inch, crease by crease, until her head falls to the side like she has just uncovered his biggest secret.

“Consider locking the door in your office and getting some rest.”

“Giving me advice isn’t included in your job description.” He sneers, the unnecessarily harsh huff of his disapproval concealing the alien sentiment spilling inside his chest.

Somehow it’s still not enough to antagonize her.

Her eyes bore into his audaciously; the gentleness gleaming from elusive emerald green, reminiscent of safety, offers shelter he despairingly seeks, but cannot take. “But it’s nice to have someone watching out for you, isn’t it?”

Somehow they might have more in common than one would think.

Careful not to expose the motley collection of feelings stirring his blood, Ethan draws in a long breath and slips his hands into the pockets of pristine white coat, perfecting his posture, with tense body standing even taller, as though to appear completely unaffected by her undeniable appeal, more unrelenting.

He’s been looked at countless times, yes, but this must be the first instance where he feels truly seen.

It is indeed nice.

The attending doesn’t say a word, for he would have to agree with the intern. She smirks triumphantly, accepting the tacit disbelief etched on his face as conclusive proof of her diagnosis.

Instead of claiming victory through verbal manifestation of her sass, Doctor Addams attacks him using a different weapon: a provocative wink. “Just think about it.”

With a graceful twirl indicating goodbye, his Rookie struts out, leaving a dizzying mist of her divine scent behind.

Wasting no time, Ethan scoots to the exact place where she stood prior to this moment, soaking up the delicious cloud of fragrance, unable to resist sniffing the air like some sort of disgustingly pathetic creep.

Thankfully, there are no witnesses to this particularly revolting descent into madness.

No witnesses to the beginning of his fall.

Mind over heart has never sounded more delusional than now, that his hard-won empire of spotless reason stands on the verge of crumbling. But he’s not giving up—he can’t give up. There’s too much at stake.

Beyond dispute, Ethan Ramsey is not an easy man to defeat. The King of Quiet Desperation wears his broken crown with arrogance, each burnished gem representing his sins, though the ultimate one hasn’t brought him down yet.

Having put the mask of nonchalance back on, Doctor Ramsey turns off the lights and stomps into the empty corridor—his hand still carrying the heavenly softness of Tiffany’s skin like a fingerprint, like a sin, shaky fingers curling at the very thought of the contact—then begins a seemingly casual stroll to his office.

He doesn’t have many vices—she is all of them.

_____

A/N2: Hope you enjoyed this bad boy ❤️ Sorry (not sorry) if it's too long and repetitive...I literally can't shut up when it comes to these two fsksjdkfjs Plus it felt really good to find my writing mojo after such a long time!

PS. If there are any typos and/or mistakes...No, there aren't lol I'm fighting COVID at the moment, so my brain's a little foggy. I had this fic sitting in my drafts and decided to just go with the flow while I'm feverish and can't see any faults sjfskfkjf I'll get back to everyone waiting for a reply when I'm more coherent. Stay safe, lovelies!

#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #fluffy angst #choices open heart #open heart fanfiction

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bumblingbabooshka · 3 months

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Neelix could hack it in dungeon meshi...I believe this with my whole heart

#voyager episode where they find a new thing to eat in scarce area of space & Neelix at the end of the episode is like #you guys~!! I thought you were all a bunch of (wimps) picky eaters but it warms my heart to see you try new things with an open mind!#and reveals that it was some alien the whole time. And that's the B plot of the episode so it's treated like a punchline gag #bc everyone was really digging it. & this instance is never brought up again except in angsty fanfictions where the pairing is j/c #and it's about like Chakotay comforting Janeway who's distraught about eating an alien. Chakotay & Tuvok are spared from this #vegetarian w

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openheartfanfics · 2 years

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Newly Added Fics

June 18 - 24, 2022

BRYCE X F!MC / F!OC

A pinch of Pink and Blue…This one‘s for you - @peonierose 🦚

Bryce and Luna have the talk about trying for kids. Are they ready for that yet?

Father To Be - @storyofmychoices 👔☁

Olivia wants to surprise Bryce on his first father's day. [Pregnancy]

My number one - @peonierose ☁📱

Luna teases Bryce on text.

ETHAN X F!MC

Beautiful - @coffeeheartaddict2 ☁

It is finally Casey and Ethan’s Wedding. [Wedding]

Can’t help falling in love. - @coffeeheartaddict2 🦚

Set in book 1, from the pov of Ethan, key points in book 1 where Ethan started to fall for Casey. [Pining]

First Father’s Day - @potionsprefect 👔 📷

Victoria celebrates Ethan’s first Father’s Day.

Forever and Ever - @a-crepusculo ☁

Adeline asked her father a complicated question. [Domestic; Family]

Husband and Wife - @potionsprefect ☁ 📷

Victoria and Ethan get married. [Wedding]

His Arms - @openheartfanfiction ☁ 📷

Just Claire liking Ethan's arms.

How Many is too Many? - @potionsprefect ☁ 📷

Victoria splurges on blankets.

Magic - @jerzwriter ☁

Ethan rushes home from work when he can't get in touch with Casey, only to stumble upon a wonderful surprise. [Pregnancy]

Not a Father (Yet) - @jamespotterthefirst 👔 📷

Lilac celebrates Ethan on Picta.

R for Ramsey - @jamespotterthefirst ☁ 📷

They’re on their honeymoon.

Recharged - @jerzwriter ☁ Ⓜ

Casey is officially moving in with Ethan, and he finds some interesting things while packing.

Start of Something New - @trappedinfanfiction 👔 ☁

It’s Father’s Day and Celia has a surprise for her husband. [Pregnancy]

What Happened in Vegas - @jerzwriter 📚🛸

[mini: wip] Casey & her roommates are heading to Vegas, intent on taking down Declan Nash and Panacea; but this time, Dr. Ethan Ramsey is in tow.

Ch 1 - Take Off

What If? - @liaromancewriter 📚🛸

[mini: complete] If Ethan and Cassie had met in college, would they still be inevitable?

Part 3

Epilogue

Your Biggest Fan - @jamespotterthefirst 📚 🛸

[extended: wip] When he is forced to promote his new book on social media, an insolent stranger points out a mistake in his research.

Ch 15 - Compromise

TOBIAS X F!MC / F!OC

... and I needed you to know. - @jerzwriter 🎭 Ⓜ

After learning he is going to be a father, there is only one person Tobias wants to share the news with. TW: Parental Death (past) [Extended Family]

Toy Story - @jerzwriter ☁ Ⓜ

They’re officially a couple, and it’s date night! Without any plans, except each other - then they wind up in a titillating place....

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #open heart fanfictions #playchoices fanfics #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #newly added fics

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fumiku · 6 months

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Hear ye hear ye!

I come bringing two Dungeon Meshi marchil fanfics to share

Enough

He got crumbs of it in moments, here and there, and it would be more than enough to last the winter. Chil knew how to live on little, with only what he could afford. But love? Love he had had enough of for a lifetime.

I'll start with the shorter one that I wrote first, a quick Chilchuck POV 1.3k words oneshot that's bittersweet if not just plainly sad. It’s about repressing a crush essentially, but the marchil is mostly a front for a character study about Chilchuck’s complex feelings on his marital situation and love in general. I’ve been told many times in comments that even without shipping marchil it was enjoyable, so give it a shot if that sounds interesting!

He soaked her in, like hard bread softening in broth.

Grind Me Down Sweetly

Even years after their journey into the dungeon, Marcille wasn’t quite over her existential dread over short lifespans… And it showed. Every other day, she came by to Chilchuck’s locksmith shop with a shocking lack of locks to smith.

Coffeeshop au except it’s not an au and there’s no coffeeshop. This one is a long oneshot of 17k words, and contains flashbacks that are meant to loosely span over a year. This fic can pretty much be entirely read as platonic. They’re just close friends but they give married energy is all. Slice of life and cozy with a side of banter & tsundere behavior, and existential dread hurt/comfort as the cherry on the sundae. It contains some classic Dungeon Meshi things like storytelling through cooking and sharing meals~ If you like the Marcille and Chilchuck dynamic in canon, this is pretty much just a bunch of that, shenanigans abound!

She clung to her friends like time was always running out.

Blonde hair is the epitome of beauty to him meanwhile his greying hair brings her existential despair. I am composed and collected about this

"I am going to chase you out with a broom"

Some related-ish memes I made!

Extra author notes and marchil rambling under cut

With how chil is so irritable and private about romance and his feelings it makes sense that their romance would have passive-agressive energy. Are they just friends or pining? Oh wouldn’t you like to know. Are they just lightheartedly bantering or is he legitimately pissed or are they blinking in morse code their true feelings at each other? Yes

My post-canon timeline is Chilchuck lives a nice life living alone in his house-shop except his friends all visit him and care, and even though he likes living alone it’s also bittersweet and every corner of his life is haunted by the ones he loves and loved and the moments he had with them. That’s it that’s all I want… (mostly the nice life part lol)

My marchil manifesto is that she grows on him stubbornly like fungal yeast and it brings out his flavor like beer <3 Because she stubbornly puts her nose everywhere and refuses to give up on getting closer to her friends and it makes him open up and repress his feelings less and aaaa <33 Obligatory shout out to the dunmeshi discord serv for engaging with my rambles

For someone who dislikes alcohol I’m having so much fun working beer metaphors and stuff into the writing, Chilchuck has all the fun motifs to play with fr... Traps, lockpicking, married life, work, destitution, starvation, rejection, repression, opening urself up to the world. Give me the most domestic fluff and give it a subtle foundation of angst and hurt comfort 👌

And I do think that Marcille takes a particular interest in Chilchuck especially because he’s so set on being a closed book as well. Yeah she def is like 👀 at him. Aaah the way she wants to meet his family so bad 😭💕 I think she romanticizes him & his family life/idealizes him as a virtuous husband a lot too. Like how she tends to think of things in a more flowery story-like way.

I do compare him to bread and her to soup in that he soaks up in her warm vibes and softens up. Which has become a personal favorite. He was bread, she was soup, can I make it any more obvious /lyr Soggy bread Chilchuck is so funny to me. Like, you know that rock solid bread but then you soak it in soup and then it just becomes the softest crumbliest thing. I think Chilchuck is a really hard bread that will break your teeth if you don’t put him in some soup beforehand. Or wine. I wracked my brain a lot about what food Chil would like (because his Adventurer’s Bible profile just says he love alcohol and hates sweet dishes rip) and I end up giving him a bread motif a lot, since it pairs well with alcohol and whatnot.

With marchil I either do unrequited angst because Chilchuck will NOT allow himself to feel, or the most domestic fluffy shit ever but in a mostly platonic dimension because once again -gestures at Chilchuck- But in a true Marcille "If I was Chilchuck’s wife" Donato fashion she manages to get her nose into the most stubborn’s people stuff like a barnacle and it’s. So married people coded anyways. They’re a lil messed up but it’s ok they’ll iron out those bumps. Ironing because they are gonna do the most domestic chores together 🔥🔥 MARRIEDCORE I TELL YOU I should get around to making more fics and more different vibes though, I already have a bunch of prompts written down~

Even more rambling and headcanons!!

I hc that when he gets his shop all his living quarters are half-foot sized so whenever the party comes to visit they suffer sitting down at the dinner table and whatnot

There’s a very specific horror in not being able to grow old with your loved one… It’s gotta be rough being in a relationship where you don’t mature at the same speed/rate. It must be so heartbreaking to turn around and your lover suddenly looks 70 while you’re still like 26 Chilchuck living until he lives with either Meijack or Flertom or at the castle and spends his days grumbling about people being even more incompetent than they used to be real. He can live longer than 50 🙏 come on peepaw you can make it to 70. He’s got so many friends ready to nurse him, prob while he complains about it. This is why I find elderly half-foots a funny mental picture. For a while I wondered if half-foots aged visually much at all in the traditional sense, and then I remembered these.

In my post-canon headcanons I’ve adopted the idea that Marcille doesn’t do her hair, it’s always someone else making her hairdos like an attendant or Kabru and like maybe Falin learns. In the "it takes a village to raise someone" community mutual aid energy… And the rare times where the task befalls Chilchuck he learns how to put it in a single braid (even if it’s so much hair for him to hold in his small hands all at once rip) because the one time he braided it in two in canon it reminded him of Meijack and gave him psychic damage. WHICH. Ohhh my god you have no idea how much I care about Chilchuck’s daughters now. After writing the first half of Grind Me Down Sweetly I am forever changed I know them all by name and know everything there is to know about them, I am making so many headcanons every day… Meijack wears thigh-high boots because she hates when sand, dirt or snow gets in her shoes- I have fanart coming up of them over at @fuumiku and I’d love making fics centered around them as well eventually yippee The angst of old senile Chilchuck still tying marcille's hair... Old senile chilchuck confusing marcille for one of his daughters… "Have you gotten taller? Oh how much you’ve grown" -breaking his neck looking up at her- I want Chilchuck to get the top notch elder treatment.

Ok this is the alcoholism tangent. I really want to believe Chilchuck can be super old, but… Realistically he’s gonna drink himself to an early grave, he’s a work hard play hard kinda guy.

Marcille would be horrified if she knew the extent of it fr fr, but I do think it’d drive a wedge between them if she tried getting him to lay off of it… If he’s open to it though that’d be so nice and sweet. Hey hey btw did you know, Chilchuck is canonically underweight due to extremely strict dieting and alcohol can act as a good hunger suppressant! Lots of issues to dig into here It’d be cute if his daughters visit him often and collectively keep tabs on him in a caring way. It’s less cute actually beinh the daughter and having to deal with it but- CHILCHUCK IS WORTH IT okay!!! Where’s that meme of "You can fix him? So is 5 other people y’all look like a construction crew" bc this increasingly looks like ‘Marcille Senshi Laios Izutsumi and his family make sure he doesn’t poison himself like a dog with chocolate’ mission.

Truly for some people reason just flies out the window when it comes to alcohol, coherence gives way to excuses. He reminds of someone I know who got a grave disease that’s worsened by alcohol and just. Continues to take it regularly. You know that thing that’s said where "an alcoholic parent will have 2 kids, one will grow to be alcoholic too while the other will never touch a drop of alcohol" and Chilchuck is def the first I think. He gives the vibe that he’d say "An alcoholic parent puts a strain on familial relationships?? Pshh, my father was and look at me! I turned out great!". I don’t think Chil could really get shaken out of it at this point tbh, seems very ingrained in him, would prob fight it back. I relate with my own familial situation ughh. Maybe if he realized how it hurt the people around him and not only himself though…. I’d def like to see him ease up on it. Drinking is often a social activity though. That gives me hope, especially with the whole dunmeshi lesson of sharing meals, that he might be able to/have recontextualized how or when he likes to take alcohol, that alcohol is better when you have others with you and you’re still able to talk and whatnot. Chilchuck says that he’s pretty picky with alcohol tho, like he has specific tastes or a high bar. Laios can ban good beer in the kingdom and then Chilchuck just stops because it all tastes awful and he’s not rich enough to import. The brewery he likes mysteriously burns down in a fireball incident one night. Marcille risks prison for her loved ones part 2, now with diplomatic immunity! ✨

I have hcs about Chil’s family dynamic, about his daughters and how alcoholism or workaholism may have affected everyone (not me inferring that Puckpatti being the most idealistic and optimistic from Chil’s daughters is probably a result from her being the youngest and perhaps Chil being the most often at work during that time and so she was mostly raised by her mother without much involvement from him). That’s a topic for another day though, for now I leave you all with thoughts of Flertom painting flowers on a shitty ceramic mug when she was 3 and Chil begrudgingly asking Marcille advice on picking a birthday gift for Puckpatti :) Oh yeah, because if we look at the timeline in The Adventurer’s Bible and combine it with when Chilchuck said that "Due to certain circumstances he hasn’t seen his wife or daughters in years" in the Senshi backstory chapter, besides letters with Flertom he has seemingly not seen them in 4 years. 4 YEARS. Thank god dungeons disappeared, it took that much for him to retire

#dungeon meshi #fanfiction #chilchuck tims #marcille donato #marchil #CHILCHUCK IS UNDER ATTACK!!#Breaking news #old man who refuses to open his heart and accept love fighting for his life against nosy friend #Everyone thinks Laios is the rabid dog of the party but when it comes to Chilchuck it totally becomes Marcille and I love that for them #My favorite marchil dynamic is that they’re close friends but they give married energy #not casual reminder at all that Chilchuck is canonically underweight #Y’all that follow my meme dumps are getting a sneak peek #So many headcanons and so much rambling oops #A lot of it’s copy pasted from the dunmeshi discord hi friendos #fumiku fanfic #fumiku fics

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alwaysmychoices · 2 months

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Every Night

Synopsis: Now that Charlie and Ethan are back together, they spend the first night of their new lives together -- and Ethan has a question to ask.

Chapter 44 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

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

Words: 2.9k

Rating: General Audience

Also available on AO3 & Wattpad (link in Masterlist)

There was something so peaceful about Ethan’s apartment tonight. Had this apartment always been peaceful? No, it couldn’t have been. Only last night, it was a mausoleum dedicated to the loss of true love.

But tonight, it was impossible to imagine these halls echoing anything but affection and contentment. The air tasted sweeter, the space felt warmer, the laughs were louder. One night of Charlie’s presence exorcised the ghosts that haunted Ethan in the middle of the night.

The change was subtle, but Ethan felt it with every step he took.

She’s here, he thought as he towel-dried his hair. She’s here, he thought as he stepped into his pajamas. She’s here, he thought as he savored the smell of her shampoo lingering in the damp air. She’s here, he thought as he padded to the living room.

Boston stared back at him through the windows – all the tallest buildings winking their congratulations.

The dim-lit space left evidence of Charlie’s presence in every corner – her shoes by the door, the crumbled pillow by her favorite chair, and the assortment of hair ties that followed her every step. Ethan was greedy for more of it, his usual tidiness be damned.

Ethan poured himself a glass of water and tapped the keypad of his laptop, waking it so he could check the time. With Charlie, time seemed to stop, but just as he suspected, it had continued for the rest of the world. It was late, so late that they should have been in bed hours ago if Charlie wanted to be well-rested for work tomorrow. But Ethan didn’t regret a moment of their night, nor was he eager to go to sleep now.

Stifling a yawn, Ethan curiously opened his notifications, and he was startled by the staggering amount.

At the top of the screen were the expected messages. HR paperwork for his new position with the hospital. Confirmation emails for cancelled movers. Pleas from a devastated recruiter trying to convince him to leave Boston anyway.

Then, there were the text messages reacting to the news. The Edenbrook rumor mill worked quickly, and by the time Ethan picked up Charlie from work, there were already whispers about their illicit affair.

Harper’s message came first. She was happy to hear that Charlie and Ethan were together, but she chastised Ethan for keeping the secret in the first place, though she insisted she’d sensed it long ago. She demanded dinner with the two of them as an apology, and Ethan typed back his assent, apologizing for lying to his friend and promising to make dinner reservations as soon as possible.

When Ethan sent his reply, he was surprised to realize that he was looking forward to dinner with Charlie and Harper. It wasn’t the first time that the trio spent time together, but it would be the first dinner where Charlie and Ethan didn’t have to perform, stifling themselves to avoid drawing attention to their relationship. Ethan liked the idea of integrating Charlie fully into his life – acknowledging the long-held truth that she was the most important part of it.

Above Harper’s gracious congratulations, Tobias Carrick sent a string of texts. It was clear that he hadn’t paced himself or censored a single thought, resulting in a string of consciousness as Tobias unraveled the revelations.

TOBIAS: I KNEW IT! I can’t believe you got caught MAKING OUT with a RESIDENT before you told me!

TOBIAS: Though Charlie is wonderful.

TOBIAS: So why does she like you then? She knows you enough to know better. How did you convince her to date you?

TOBIAS: Someone just told me you’ve been dating for a year. That better be a lie.

TOBIAS: No, it’s not. You’ve been evasive all year. That’s why, isn’t it?

TOBIAS: Then again, you’re always evasive and awkward.

TOBIAS: My office is next to yours, and I swear I heard noises today.

TOBIAS: Just heard the news that you’re leaving. Don’t fret. I’ll be the leader the Diagnostics Team has always needed.

The last message came a few hours later, when Tobias had clearly processed the news and felt it necessary to give a more cohesive and gracious response.

TOBIAS: Seriously though, congratulations. I’m proud of you.

TOBIAS: But don’t screw it up.

Ethan didn’t really consider Tobias a friend – not after their antagonistic history and current conflicts. But this string of texts tugged on some part of Ethan’s heart that had once considered Tobias his best friend. Perhaps it was worth trying again, even if this was just evidence that Tobias was as insufferable as ever.

ETHAN: Thank you.

There wasn’t much else to say, so Ethan didn’t bother trying. And frankly, for him, it was quite a lot.

After Tobias’s messages, there were a few more. Some of Charlie’s friends reached out to say they were happy for them. Sienna tentatively endorsed the relationship, though she reserved the right to murder Ethan if he messed up again. Jackie’s threats against Ethan were far less veiled, and Bryce sent at least a dozen excited emojis. Naveen wrote with glee, boasting that their reunion had all gone to plan. When Ethan questioned Naveen’s direct defiance, Naveen ignored the question and offered the happy couple a weekend at his lake house to celebrate. Gracious for the offer (and Naveen’s interference), Ethan didn’t push it.

Nor did he need to push it.

Because there she was – his darling, wonderful Charlotte.

With Jenner close on her heels, Charlie wandered into the kitchen. The familiar scent of coconut and vanilla followed her, enveloping Ethan’s senses long before she looped her arms around his waist and nuzzled into him.

“There you are,” Charlie murmured, resting her cheek on his bare back. His skin was warm and scented with the mixture of their respective body washes – each still sitting in Ethan’s shower as if no time had passed.

In some ways, that made Charlie sad. She didn’t like to picture Ethan ending each night, staring at her half-empty bodywash and refusing to throw it away, even when he’d lost hope of her ever coming home. But the grief for their lost time was only a momentary interruption. In its wake, gratitude emerged. Because she had come home, and the bodywash was still waiting for her.

Ethan smiled softly, abandoning his laptop and twisting his body so that they were face-to-face. He leaned down to kiss the crown of her head, and Charlie shifted, leaning further into his embrace.

“What are you up to?” Charlie asked, her voice still in a daze.

The day had been so perfect – their reunion, their afternoon, their time at home. They’d spent most of the evening tangled in Ethan’s sheets, but not a moment of it had been quiet. They’d consumed each other in every way possible, from touch to speech. No time had passed, yet there was so much to catch up on.

“Missing you,” Ethan confessed.

Charlie laughed, “It’s been ten minutes since I kicked you out of the shower so I could actually wash my hair without you distracting me.”

“Way too long.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Charlie rolled her eyes, but it was the blush creeping up her cheeks that made Ethan smile. He kissed the flush as it spread up her skin, and he smiled against her cheek as she laughed.

Had anyone else ever been so happy?

“But really,” Charlie playfully swatted Ethan’s shoulder, “What are you doing? If it’s work, I’ll be obligated to make fun of you.”

Ethan shook his head, shifting so they could both face the laptop, “You’ll enjoy this.”

With a few clicks, Ethan brought up Tobias’s text thread. Somehow, the messages were even funnier from Charlie’s perspective. He lit up as he watched her read the messages, laughing at things he hadn’t even noticed before. Then, he showed her the other congratulatory messages. He thought she would like to see the well-wishes, but really, it was a silent effort to show he embraced the promises he’d made to her. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t hiding her anymore.

And Charlie appreciated every bit of it.

She reveled in the idea of dinners with friends. She wanted to be Ethan’s “plus one” to every event, even she’d have to throw her own party to get the opportunity. She liked how easily they talked about it, how Ethan actively participated in their planning without any pressure.

It was night and day from the man she’d once stormed out on.

Her chest ached with pride.

When Ethan reached Naveen’s message, he almost seemed nervous. As if suggesting a weekend away might break their fragile perfection.

“What do you think?” Ethan asked, when Charlie had sufficient time to read the exchange, “A weekend at the lake?”

Ethan had a whole pitch planned out. He was ready to remind Charlie that spring had just reached the city, the sunshine melting the ice and promising new beginnings. They could get out of the city and reconnect in the place where they’d first fallen in love. It felt like the right place to start their new chapter.

But a pitch wasn’t necessary.

“Yeah,” Charlie smiled softly, “A weekend with Dr. Ramsey. Sounds perfect.”

“A weekend with Dr. Greene,” Ethan echoed, mirroring her soft smile as he rubbed a gentle pattern on her back.

Charlie leaned into Ethan’s side, exhaustion peaking through their blinding happiness. Both of them were tempted to evade sleep altogether and stay awake all night, trading their wasted hours of rest with the promise of tender whispers and sacred promises. But relaxation had already seeped into their bones and lowered their defenses. They were both fighting to stay awake.

It was Ethan who declared the first move.

Pressing a tender kiss to Charlie’s forehead, Ethan suggested, “We should go to bed.”

“No, no,” Charlie shook her head, “It’s too early.”

“You have to be at work in a few hours,” Ethan reminded her, though he lacked conviction. He was just as willing to stay up all night as she was, if not more so since he didn’t have a morning shift.

“I’m a resident. I can handle a sleepless night.”

“Come on,” Ethan nudged her gently, “You’re being stubborn.”

“So are you.”

Ethan shrugged, Fair point.

Charlie eyed him warily – ready for battle. Ready for their opposing wills to dominate their minds until they were forced to pick a winner. Ready to draw blood before admitting defeat.

But then a moment passed, and it was all silly.

Charlie was tired, and Ethan would still be here in the morning. He would be there the night after, and the day after, and every day they were willing to share.

So, Charlie said, “Fine. Let’s go to bed.”

Ethan appreciated the magnanimous resolution, and he peppered her cheeks with quiet praise. Though, admittedly, he was inclined to think that everything Charlotte did was perfect. After kissing Jenner goodnight, the pair went to Ethan’s bedroom, ignoring the alarm clock on Ethan’s bedside table that would surely ruin their morning.

It wasn’t Charlie’s first time in Ethan’s bed tonight, but when she climbed into her usual place on the right side of the bed, it felt monumental.

The rose-colored glasses of their reunion lifted, and the gravity of the situation forced them back to earth. Instead of feeling silly for their reverence, they felt absurd for not having more.

War is over. The end of days never came. Insurmountable grief faded away. All the terrible things didn’t matter anymore. The past was in black and white, and the future was painted in vivid color and neon welcome signs.

Charlie is home. Charlie is in our bed. Everything is right, Ethan thought.

Charlie and Ethan tried to act casual as they settled into the sheets, but they couldn’t help but stare at the other. Their eyes were wide with meaning, communicating what neither had the bravery to say. When Charlie’s eyes began to water, Ethan quietly stroked her cheek.

After what felt like a lifetime, Ethan whispered, “I really did miss you.”

As if something like that needed to be said. As if it didn’t carry through every conversation. As if it wasn’t part of his DNA. As if she didn’t feel it with every adoring kiss and smile.

“I missed you, too,” Charlie met his honesty with her own, though her voice lacked his strength. At the slightest hint of a crack, Ethan tucked Charlie into his embrace, and Charlie took the opportunity to breath him in.

Sandalwood. Cedar. Vanilla. A hint of mint.

The smell of home, she thought.

Nestled safely in Ethan’s arms, Charlie’s eyelids grew heavy. Weeks of sleepless nights caught up with her in an instant, rendering her half-asleep in mere moments. As Ethan peered down at her, his chest squeezed with affection.

And suddenly, he knew.

He knew with absolute certainty that Charlotte Greene was his future.

He was overcome with an urge to propose right then and there. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have a ring or a plan or even ambience. Ethan just wanted to marry her. Hell, given the option, he would have run to City Hall right then and there to seal the deal.

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but something stopped him.

We need time, he realized. The wounds were too fresh and the peace too fragile. He didn’t want to rush into anything that would endanger their precious newfound happiness, nor did he need to rush.

So, despite his overwhelming urge to the contrary, Ethan decided to wait – and it was just waiting. Not refusing or dismissing the idea. He knew they would make it, and he was sure that she would say yes when it was time.

But stopping himself from proposing didn’t eradicate all Ethan’s impulses.

No, he wasn’t out of grand gestures or over-eager requests.

“Move in with me,” Ethan blurted out.

Charlie stirred, wiping at her eyes as she sleepily asked, “What?”

“Move in with me,” Ethan repeated, less confident this time.

“You’re serious?” Charlie’s eyes widened.

“I am,” Ethan nodded, though he didn’t seem very sure. Despite his obvious commitment to the idea she move in, he didn’t have his argument ready – a rarity in itself. Ethan had never made any big life decision without a reasoned argument.

“You’re always here anyway,” Ethan softened, eagerness belying every justification, “and I want you here. All the time. I want to come home to you and share our closet, and I want to add your books to our bookshelves. We’re living in the ‘in between’ – with you sometimes living here and sometimes not. I’m tired of that. I want to be with you fully. In every way I can. This isn’t home without you.”

Charlie hesitated.

She was startled to realize that she already knew the answer. Before he even started talking, she wanted to say yes. And there was no good reason to say no.

It seemed rushed, but was it really? They’d been together for over a year, and she’d spent more nights here than anywhere else. Did time apart fundamentally change that? Did they feel so fragile that sudden changes would shatter them? Or had it been the status quo that drove them apart in the first place?

And did any of it fucking matter?

Would waiting really make things better? Would a slow approach save them from future disaster? Hiding hadn’t done them any favors, nor had abundant caution kept them from starting their relationship in the first place.

Charlie wanted to come home to Ethan. She wanted to put a name to all the things they’d silently endorsed for months, including her continued presence in this apartment. She wanted to cover the space with evidence of their relationship until it was little more than a shrine.

So, perhaps she didn’t give the offer the careful consideration it deserved. Or maybe she gave it too much consideration when the answer would always be the same.

“Yes,” Charlie blurted out.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Charlie nodded, realization creeping across her features, “My answer is yes. I want to move in with you.”

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief, happily covering her face with kisses. Between excited kisses, he assured her that she could always keep her old apartment, and he would understand if she changed her mind.

Charlie stopped him, “You don’t need to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Try to form a back-up plan,” Charlie settled her gaze on his, “I’m confident we’ll work out.”

“You are?” Ethan repeated breathlessly. It was one thing for Ethan to be blind in love, but it was quite another to realize she was just as high off this feeling.

“Yeah,” Charlie rested her hand on his chest, feeling the jackhammer of his heart, “Aren’t you?”

And amazingly, he was.

Nodding his head, Ethan whispered, “Yeah, I am.”

“Good,” Charlie leaned her head against his chest, “I love you, Ethan.”

“I love you, too, Charlotte.”

That was how they fell asleep – holding onto each other with persistent desperation and adoring reverence. Like they were so lucky to even get the opportunity to fall asleep together. Like it was a gift from the universe that they were here with each other. But it was better than fate – it was deliberate choice. It was an active effort to stay.

And it was the beginning of everything.

#choices #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x charlie greene #with and without #fanfiction #open heart #pixelberry #WIP #Dr. Ethan Ramsey

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creative-heart · 1 month

Text

This little Drabble made my heart feel so filled with love for Enzo, I cannot express, it comes from this request

"My sweet love"| Enzo Vogrincic

TW: THE MOST ADORABLE FLUFF, Enzo being utterly adorable, some little mention to having sex, and selfimage issues.

Word Count: 646

You stand in front of the mirror in your underwear after stepping out of the shower and sigh, analyzing and scrutinising every single one of the flaws you know are on your body, you still don’t understand why, or how Enzo is still with you, even more so now, that he’s rapidly becoming famous, going to all these red carpet events and award shows, seeing himself surrounded by all sorts of gorgeous, perfect little models, actresses and singers. You turn around a bit to look at the back of your thighs and sigh turning to face the mirror once more wrapping your arms around your waist.

You’re so deeply lost in your own thoughts, critizing your every tiny detail that you haven’t even noticed your boyfriend resting against the doorframe to the bedroom, knowing what you must be doing to yourself, he slowly walks over to you; the most adoring, love filled look in his eyes as he looks at you through the mirror wrapping his arms around your waist. You take your sight up to meet his gaze still through the reflection, whispering through the held back tears chocking your voice; “why are you even with me? I’m not even that beautiful, my legs are filled with cellulite and my belly’s plastered with stretch marks” as you talk your eyes falling back to your own body picking at the tiniest flaw you can find.

Enzo sighs holding you tighter; before turning you around in his arms “Y/N baby, look at me please” he whispers holding your chin between his thumb and index finger tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “Chiquita, you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met, both inside and out, not only are you beautiful, you have the kindest, most loving brown eyes, your face looks like it’s been painted by Da Vinci himself, you belong in an art museum; your body is so sexy, like I cannot imagine a more gorgeous body, your thighs, the way my hands fit on your waist, your boobs…don’t even get me started on your boobs, all of your body is as if it’s made for me.” Enzo softly strokes your cheek making you lean your head into the touch “if that weren’t enough…you are one of the kindest, sweetest souls I’ve ever met, the way you are always there to support the people you love, how good you are with little kids, how loving you are to all animals you come across” he states inbetween peppering all over your face with soft, sweet little pecks. “To top it all off, you’re so smart, so witty, so damn funny. All this is to say, that you’re absolutely perfect, and that I would want to share my life with no one else”.

You look into his eyes sobbing softly, still a mix of insecurity and sadness with utter love for your boyfriend “You don’t wish I were more like the actresses and models you have met lately?” you whisper, feeling the heat covering your cheeks from what you have just put into words. You frown in confusion as Enzo starts laughing, that head tilted back laugh you love from him.

“Baby, there’s nothing I’d like less than you looking like those plastic women, I love having somewhere to hold onto while we have sex, while we cuddle, please, promise me you’ll try to see yourself a bit more through my lens, cause I promise, I promise, that you’re absolutely perfect my sweet love” Enzo carries on still with that soft loving tone as he leans down kissing you holding you so tightly to him that you think he might break you, and with his kiss, you can feel how your insecurities slowly leave your body, he loves you, he truly does love you and Enzo’s love is all you could ever need to make you happy.

#lucia <33 #enzo vogrincic fic #fluff #fanfiction #enzo x reader #enzo vogrincic fluff #requests #requests open #creative-heart

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splendidreads · 1 year

Text

Open Your Heart, Part 1

Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female OC

Word Count: 3,299

This first chapter is so long omg.

This first chapter has no warnings. Future chapters will include the following; Cursing, mentions of abuse, violence, weapons, smut, angst, fluff.. I will add more as needed!

Kind of a summary? Idk. I’m still thinking.

‘Arranged marriages are never easy. This one is no exception. Both sides will have to relearn their ways, and learn to trust each other. Bucky has all the love to give, but Katherine doesn’t know how to accept real love. She’s never been loved by anyone other than her best friend. Will she learn to open her heart, to New Yorks most notorious Mob Boss? Or is she too scared, that he’s just like everyone else?’

A/N; This is my FIRST Bucky story. As well as my first AU story. If this first part does well, I’ll keep on going. I’m incredibly beyond nervous about this. Constructive criticism welcome, but please be nice. Please re-post and comment :)

I do NOT give permission for my work to be copied and posted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. PLEASE just reblog if you want to share my story!!

Will happily start a tag list if anyone is interested!

✨Part 2 here✨

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty chilly out.”

Katherine tossed her keys onto her dresser as she held the phone between her ear and shoulder, flipping through the stack of mail in her hands.

“Perfect night for a book and hot chocolate.”

Katherine chuckled softly, “Sage, do you ever really need an excuse to do that?”

She could hear laughter on the other side of the phone, “Not really. But it’s the aesthetic!”

She rolled her eyes at her friend, humming softly as she sorted a few bills, until her eyes landed on an envelope that stood out. It was a deep, blood red color with a silver wax seal on it. Her name was written on it, so she didn’t hesitate to open it.

“Anything interesting?”

She hummed in response, “Possibly..”

Her fingers gently tugged the paper out from the envelope, her curiosity spiking. She unfolded the paper, and her eyes soon began to go over the words.

“Oh my god,” she gasped softly, a bit breathless, “Its him.. It’s a letter from HIM!”

As soon as she got the words out, her phone began chiming in her ear, signaling that Sage was converting the call to a video call. Katherine answered it, and propped the phone up on her dresser.

“Well, what did he say?” Sage looked at her curiously, “Its about the wedding, right?”

Katherine looked at the letter, and let out a soft breath.

“It says..”

“My Dearest Katherine,

I know that we’ve both been waiting for this moment, at least.. I know that I have. I wanted to give you the space you deserve, and to not rush you. If you’re ready for me, I’m here, and I’d like for you to come stay with me. I’ll take care of anything you need, or want, to make this transition easier and more comfortable. Just let me know when you’re ready.

Sincerely yours,

James Buchanan Barnes

My number: xxx-xxx-xxxx”

Both girls were silent for a moment. Katherine’s thoughts were overwhelmed by excitement, the moment she’d been waiting for was finally here.. While Sages thoughts were quite the opposite.

“The mob boss Bucky Barnes?!” Sage exclaimed, finally processing the words from the letter. “YOU'RE MARRYING A MOB BOSS?”

“Seems so..” Katherine grabbed the phone, and immediately put the number in, sending him a text.

“I don’t know Katie, this is.. Are you sure? You’ve heard all of the stories..”

Katherine rolled her eyes, “I can’t break the deal. It’s not mine to negotiate anyways..” she let out a soft sigh, “I know. I remember them, we’ve all heard the stories..”

Sage let out a long breath, worry written all over her face, “Well.. When do you think you want to go? I’m sure he’d understand if you wanted more time.”

Katherine bit the inside of her cheek, having already received a few text messages from him, “In a few hours.”

Sages face fell, “What?”

“He’s sending a driver over at 3,” She began moving around her room, and began the process of packing, “It’s not like I have much to pack anyways.”

“You already texted him? Katherine-“

Katherine shook her head, cutting her off, “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this. Yes, it’s.. Interesting.. Who he turned out to be.. But this is still my only chance to get out… A chance to be happy.”

As much as Sage wanted to argue, disagree, and try to talk her out of it.. She knew that she was right.

“If he can make you happy..” Sage let out a soft sigh, before a smile spread on her lips, “Make sure to tell me everything! I want to know what he’s like, what his house is like! I’ve heard it’s a huge mansion..”

As Sage began to go on and on about all the different rumors they’ve all heard about him, Katherine’s mind was occupied with other thoughts.

I hope I don’t disappoint him.

If I just keep my head down, and listen, I’m sure it’ll be fine.

I wonder if he’ll like me..

Will we be happy together?

“I bet the arm thing isn’t real. You know how mobs like to spread stories to scare people.”

Sage's last words made Katherine chuckle, “I suppose I’ll be finding out which rumors are true or not, hmm?”

“Yeah, you’ll have to let me know if his eyes are really that blue.” Sage let out a soft dreamy sigh, “I wonder what he really looks like. It seems to depend on who you ask.”

Katherine hummed softly, imagining the man as she packed, “Yeah, if they’re on his good side, or his bad side.”

Both girls chuckled a bit, continuing to talk about all the different possibilities that might happen. Katherine continued packing as they spoke, finding that she really didn’t have much to pack. She didn’t have many clothes, most of it being her work uniforms. A couple pairs of jeans, a few t-shirts (All of which had something to do with music), a single long sleeved shirt, and her oversized nightshirts. She only had three pairs of shoes; A pair of purple converse sneakers (which were on her feet), her black combat boots, and her work shoes. Thankfully, she still had her black dress and heels from when Sage forced her to get them. She could still hear Sages words from that day, ‘This dress would look killer on you, your curves will pop, and drive any man crazy!’ She had only tried the dress on once, never having an occasion to wear it. So, including the heels, she actually had four pairs of shoes.

Great.

A loud knock on the front door made both girls fall silent, but Sage was quick to realize.

“It’s three..”

Katherine sucked in a breath, nodding her head, “Okay… Okay. I’ll talk to you later, I promise!”

Sage sighed, nodding her head, “You’d better.. I’ll send a search party! Don’t forget your art bag!”

The call ended after the both girls said ‘I love you’, and Katherine made a beeline to the front door, bags in hand. She opened it to find a man, a bit older than her, with a nice suit on.

He offered a small smile, “Miss Connors?”

She nodded her head, “Yes sir.” Returning the smile, before realizing..

Dad.

She let out a soft sigh, “I have to do something really quick, then I’m ready.”

The man nodded his head, and reached for her bags, “I’ll take these, and meet you at the car.”

She turned on her heel, walking through the house. Her father was passed out in his recliner in the living room, a beer threatening to fall from his hand and onto the floor. Shaking her head at the sight, she decided to just leave him a note, instead of waking him.

‘Mr. Barnes finally reached out.

I accepted.

That’s where I’ll be when you wake up.’

She placed the note in front of the television, before walking back through the house. Grabbing her leather jacket, and her ‘art’ bag as Sage called it, she went out the front door. The man at the car gave her another smile, opening the back door for her. As she stepped in, she took one last look at the house, before nodding to herself and letting the man close the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The car ride was silent for the most part, the man asking her a few times if she was alright or if she needed anything. New York City seemed to disappear behind them as they went, the drive lasting about 20 minutes. Katherine’s eyes widened as the car rolled to a stop.. He really did have a mansion.

“Alright Miss. Connors.” The man got out of the car, as her eyes observed the large home. It was old, Victorian era old. Equal parts elegant, beautiful, and creepy. The driver, whom she had learned to be Joe, opened her door for her, offering a warm smile. She got out, and was greeted by a crisp breeze. She was glad to have her leather jacket on.

“Thanks for the ride.” She said to him, a small grin on her lips as she grabbed her bags.

“Anytime, ma’am. Mr. Barnes is my favorite client.”

She gave him a small nod before turning to walk towards the house. As she walked up the front steps,, the nerves finally began to break through. She took in a deep breath as she raised her fisted hand to knock, but the door opened in front of her, startling her.

“You must be Katherine!” An older woman, probably in her late 50s or so, gave her a wide grin.

“Yes ma’am, that’s me.” She returned the grin, trying to conceal her nerves.

“Come in, come in…” The woman motioned her inside, and as she stepped in, she closed the door. “I’m Annette, one of Mr. Barnes housekeepers.”

Katherine’s eyes wandered around the entryway, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Annette stood there, silent for a moment. As if she were allowing Katherine to study the home. “Mr. Barnes is currently in a meeting, so I’ll show you to your room!”

Katherine gave her a small smile, nodding her head to the woman. She followed along behind her, looking around as they went. It was pretty modern inside, compared to the old style of the outside. The first room was huge; a long fireplace along the far wall. It seemed to have been set up to hold guests, maybe for meetings or get-togethers. There were staircases on either side of the room, and they started the descent up the left side. Once at the top, she realized that both sides met on the same floor. There didn’t seem to be much personal touch in the home; No family photos in sight.

“Here we are, the last door on the left. The room on the right is an office area that he never uses, the other door on the left is another entrance into your bathroom. I usually keep it locked.”

Katherine blinked a few times, before hesitantly opening the door to the bedroom.. her eyes widened once again, seeing how large it was. It was almost like a suite at a hotel; having a lounge area with a couch, recliner and television. A wall separated that space from an area with a ginormous bed. It must’ve been a California king, she’d never seen a bed so large. As she walked around, Annette came in as well, opening the curtains.

“This door here is your closet,” she said as she turned the knob, revealing a walk in closet. “And over here is your bathroom.”

Katherine was shocked, her eyes trying to take in the massive space, “A-And this room… Is mine?”

Annette let out a soft chuckle, “Yes dear.”

Confusion then came across Katherine’s face, realizing that she and her future husband had separate rooms. Annette must’ve noticed this, because she offered a kind smile.

“Mr. Barnes is a good man, Katherine. He wanted you to have your own space, he didn’t want to pressure you into anything until you were ready.”

Katherine nodded slowly, setting her bags down on the foot of the bed- Her bed. She gave Annette a big grin, when the initial shock had finally subsided. She let out a giggle, doing a twirl as she took one long look at the room. Annette chuckled softly, watching the woman.

“It was overwhelming to me too, back in the day. I’d never seen such spacious rooms.” She shrugged her shoulders.

Katherine let out a long sigh, a smile tugging at her lips, “This is.. It is a lot. This room is half the size of my house!”

Both women chuckled for a moment, until there was a knock at the door. Katherine’s eyes moved to look at who it was, somehow knowing that it wasn’t him. A tall man leaned in the doorway, golden blonde hair that went just past his ears, and a neat beard on his face.

“Mr. Rogers.” Annette nodded her head toward him, giving him a small smile.

“Annette,” he returned the smile, then his eyes landed on Katherine, “So you’re the one who’s marrying my best friend.”

Katherine’s nerves slowly creeped their way back into her mind, nodding her head silently. She wasn’t sure what to say, her eyes flickering between the man and Annette.

He walked towards her, extending a hand, “I’m Steve.” He gave her a warm grin, and it helped settle her silly nerves.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, taking his hand and shaking it.

“I hope you’re finding everything to your liking. Buck sent me to extend his apologies, his meetings running later than expected.” Steve let out a soft sigh as their hands fell, “He wanted to greet you when you arrived.”

Katherine nodded her head, running a hand through her long brown hair, “It’s alright, I understand.” She shrugged, though secretly she was quite anxious and excited to finally set her eyes on him.

Steve’s eyes wandered around the room, before settling on her bags, “Are there more bags downstairs? I can go get them if you’d like.”

Katherine was slightly embarrassed, “Oh, uhm.. No.. That’s all I’ve got.”

Silent words seemed to be exchanged, Steve understanding the expression on her face. Katherine didn’t want to have to explain to anyone that she was dirt poor and didn’t have many possessions. Steve didn’t seem to want to press the issue.

“Well, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you around dear! Steve will take good care of you.” Annette gave them both a smile, before leaving the room.

Katherine let out a breath, before making a clicking sound with her tongue, “Welp,” she moved to start unpacking her bags, “I s’pose I’ll start unpacking while I wait.” She shrugged her shoulders, before letting out a soft chuckle. Her phone was going off in her pocket, and she knew who it was. She pulled the device out, to see text messages from Sage.

‘Everything good?’

‘Are you there yet??’

‘KATIE’

‘…Has he swooped you off your feet yet?’

‘DETAILS WOMAN!’

Katherine laughed, reading the messages. Steve quirked an eyebrow curiously, wondering what was going on. She looked over to him as she texted Sage back.

‘I haven’t met him yet! Just settling into my room. I’ll video call you before bed!’

“Oh, it’s just my best friend chomping at the bit. Sage is a very protective friend, and if I don’t answer, I’m sure she’d manage to find out where I am.”

Steve let out a soft chuckle, nodding his head, “Oh, I understand that.”

Katherine hummed softly, “I’m sure she’d like to see where I’m living now.. Do you think he’d be alright if she came over some time?” She looked at Steve, wondering what he thought. But Steve’s eyes were now on his own phone.

“You can ask him yourself,” he said, sliding the device back into his pocket, “He’s out of his meeting, and would like for me to escort you to his office.”

Katherine nodded her head slowly, “Uhm, then lead the way.”

Steve gave her a smile, before doing just that. He led her down the hallway, and back down the staircase. Her fingers began fumbling with the hem of her shirt, ‘The Andrews Sisters’ logo quite faded on the front of the old clothing. As she followed him through the house, her anxiety came creeping back into her mind. Thoughts of her mysterious suitor flooded her brain, wondering what their first interaction might be like. She was lost in her thoughts as Steve led her into a room, her eyes wandering around as she observed the new area. There were bookcases covering the walls, hundreds of books filling them. She smiled, looking at all the old covers. She could’ve sworn she had spotted an old copy of ‘Great Tales and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe’.

“Katherine?”

Her eyes snapped to where she had heard her name, and the nerves turned into butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Standing before her, leaning against a large wooden desk, was a man. Probably the most attractive man she’d ever laid eyes on. He had dark hair, a quiff of dark locks settled at the top. His eyes were an icy Blue, staring into her hazel brown orbs. He had quite the jawline, a short beard covering it. His arms were crossed against his chest, one of which seemed to reflect the light from the ceiling..

“H-Hi.” Was all she managed to squeak out, her eyes transfixed on him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he took a few long strides across the room, extending his flesh hand to her, “Bucky.” He flashed a toothy smile, and she felt her heart flutter.

It was him.

She took his hand, hoping he didn’t notice that hers was shaking. He gently clasped both of his hands around her much smaller one, the metal of his fingers sending a chill up her arm.

“You have a really lovely home.” She mentally scolded herself, knowing those weren’t her first choice of words.

He let out a hearty chuckle, holding onto her hand gently, “Thank you. It’s yours now, too, you know.”

She nodded her head, realizing how much closer he was to her now. She could see his dark eyelashes flutter as he watched her. She slowly retracted her hand, suddenly feeling quite self conscious. She wrapped her arms around her middle, wanting to hide herself from his piercing eyes. He seemed to notice her hesitance, taking a step back from her. They were both silent for a moment, Steve watching the awkward interaction. Her eyes began to wander again, fixating on all the books in the room.

“Do you like to read?” He asked, giving her a small smile.

Katherine’s eyes glanced towards him, getting captured by his icy orbs once more, “I do.” She returned the sweet smile.

“You’re more than welcome to any of them. I have more in the basement library.” He hummed softly, “Please feel free to explore. What’s mine, is now yours.”

She gave him a slow nod, the smile still spread across her lips, as she began to walk around the room. She walked up to one of the large bookcases, her fingers lifting to gently brush across the spines of a few books. She hummed softly, her eyes scanning over the different books. Bucky silently followed her, watching as she admired them. He glanced at Steve, who gave him a reassuring smile.

“I’m happy to collect more, if you think of any we should add to the collection.” He said to her, trying to ease her nerves. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, regardless of the odd situation.

“Duly noted.” She turned towards him, a slight blush crawling onto her cheeks as she realized.. While she was studying the books, he was studying her.

“Uh, are you hungry?” He gave her a side grin, “Steve and I usually go to this pizza place out on 6th, every Thursday.”

Katherine let out a soft laugh, “Pizza sounds great.”

Bucky clapped his hands together, “Then it’s settled. Steve, can you pull the car around?”

Steve nodded his head, “Yep.”

Katherine smiled to Bucky, “What are your favorite toppings? I’m a meat lover myself.”

Bucky’s lips spread wide on his face, “Me too. With the garlic sauce on the crust.”

Katherine’s nerves were slowly fading, “Extra cheese?”

Bucky chuckled, motioning for them to leave the room, “Doll, I have a feeling this’ll be much easier than either of us realized.”

“As long as you don’t put anchovies on anything, I think we’ll be set.”

They both began to laugh, all the nerves and awkwardness fading behind them.

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