#so the whole street was a rainbow of colours
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Tokyo drifters // drag racer Chris
Warnings: car sex / tit fuck / cum kink / fingering / cunnalingus / size kink / spit kink / enemies to lovers trope / dangerous driving ig (?) / mentions of smoking and brief mentions of alcohol / praise kink
Summary: what do you get when you cross a competitive drag racer with an equally as competitive opponent? Smoke, engine oil and a whole lot of sexual tension, that’s what.
Author’s notes: and so let the obsession with racer fics begin, but with a Chris flavoured twist. Chris strikes me as the illegal, reckless driver type, hence my modern twist on something very fast and furious-esque. Chris x drag racing actually makes me wet u guys I fucking love it, like- imagine him drifting around in a red Nissan Skyline gtr with his black and white leather jacket on, UGH it really just gets me going…
“We could do whatever you want, you could fuck me in the back of your car” - HER, Chase Atlantic
The black asphalt glimmers with a coat of wetness and a pattern of oil spillage slicked over the top of it, the technicolour rainbow greased and worming in the fluorescent lights of the street as the heavy hum of revved engines purr in your ears and echo across the emptied roads.
Beer bottles and cans splash here and there on the dripping concrete with discarded cigarette cases and lighters balanced on top of littered leather jackets.
Illegal drag racing. Bets. Stacks of money shoved into the pockets of the driver that is triumphant at the end of the night.
You’re here because this place is rife with the best of the best. The ones who really soak their hands in the leather of their steering wheels, who breathe the musk of their seats, and who burn the rubber marks of their legacies into the very streets that they rocket through each early A.M.
At present you stand to the side of the pavement, smelling the stench of broiling petrol mingled with the scent of flavoured cigarette smoke.
Your eyes survey the various Suzukis, Mustangs and Toyota drifters, all in different colours and all with different painted decals to signify each of the driver’s unique personality, wrinkling your nose at the lack of female drivers leaning against their own cars.
There are plenty of people here.
The rules are simple, you bet on the driver you wager is going to win and then whatever number of votes the driver receives determines their starting position at the beginning of the race.
As your eyes pass over the mingling people chatting in heaped groups with different drivers, you dismally notice the one person who you most definitely did not want to run into tonight. The only other person who can match your speed.
Great. Well that’s just fucking fantastic.
He is on his own. His lanky figure leaning against his electric red Nissan drifter with sleek black wheels and windows, his raven brown hair dusting his face in waving curls as his hands tuck themselves into his black and white leather racer jacket.
A long white cigarette lies perched in between his lips, smoke lazily oozing out from the lit cherry before dispersing into the cool night air in front of him.
He makes no effort to smoke it properly, simply lets it rest in between the purse of his lips whilst he too, observes his competition.
That is, until his eyes trail their way over to you. Now you’re both looking at each other, and he finds it within himself to cockily smirk, your silent rivalry unnoticed by the rest of the bustling audience here to simply bet and watch the race.
You scoff quietly, pushing your feet into a walk, you’ve got to go and talk to him now.
You gradually make your way across the sopping wet tarmac road, heading straight in the direction of the one man who always knows how to rub you the wrong way.
As you go, you fish one of your own cigarettes out of your cigarette case, and then light it. It sparks, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly whilst waiting for you to reach him.
When you do, you stop and nod at him in greeting, mumbling a curt ‘Chris’ after whipping your cigarette from out of your mouth and resting it within your pointer and middle finger.
To contrast your cold behaviour, your arch nemesis tilts his head playfully, his smugness practically oozing from his figure as he retorts with a ‘hey sugar… ready to lose tonight?’. Your nostrils flare.
The only reason you came tonight to race is because you didn’t think Chris would be here.
You fucking hate racing him, in fact, you hate even being within a close proximity to him. He drives you up the wall, irritates you to no end and most importantly- absolutely chokes you with conflicted feelings.
Because how can someone that you hate this much also be someone you feel so irresistibly attracted to?
Chris always finds the most painful of ways to dig under your skin and clamp his claws around you until you’re gasping for air and practically begging to be let free.
Free from the inescapable prison that coaxes you into constantly thinking about him, even when he’s not around.
‘You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you win tonight, that money is mine’ you spit a laugh, before feeding your cigarette into your mouth and inhaling it to calm your nerves. He makes your fingers twitch, and sometimes you’re not sure if it’s because you want to wrap them around his throat or use them to pull his neck down into a kiss.
He raises his eyebrows and starts to once again use the mocking lilt to his tone that you know oh-so-well. ‘Oh really? Because last time I checked I’m pretty sure that money had my name on it’. He readjusts his lean on his red Nissan to make himself seem taller, and you grit your teeth at his teasing antics.
You don’t answer, and instead open you mouth. Chris watches the smoke that you had been holding in your lungs come seductively curling out, and he swallows nervously. It mingles between you two like a barrier of attraction before melting away into the damp air above you as you resume your usual grilling.
‘How’d you even find out about this race anyway? Thought you stayed on the South side?’
Chris shrugs and basks in the obvious annoyance your voice contains. He knows he’s in dangerous territory, this is your side of town, and you know the roads way better than him over here. But then again, when has Chris ever backed down from a challenge?
Plus, he fucking loves teasing you. He gets such a rise out of it every single time, in which case it’s worth hauling his ass all the way over to the other side town just for a race.
Just to see you.
He can’t help it, he just can’t keep himself away.
‘Friend of a friend’ he responds vaguely, before deciding to pluck the almost burnt out cigarette from his lips so that he can thrust it to the floor and crush it underneath his sneaker.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t believe that Chris managed to weasel his way into this race, because it’s definitely going to ruin your chances of going home with that prize money. To say Chris is a reckless driver is an understatement, he’s fucking good, but he also takes risks, risks that bargain with his life and the lives of others, so naturally, when people see his notorious red car pull up to races they panic and stay far behind him.
Not you though.
‘You best count your fucking days Chris because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you win this time…’.
Chris chuckles, his eyes narrowing in a siren-like way before reaching up to your mouth and slowly pulling your cigarette from out of your lips. ‘Yeah…? Well we’ll see about that, won’t we baby cakes?’ he chides, before fully stealing your cigarette and putting it into his own mouth without hesitation.
Your blood boils at his persistence and you spin around in a rage, wishing you could just run him over with your car. At least that would stop the heartbeat from pulsing in between your legs at his weirdly sexual action.
After watching you whisk away, Chris quickly gets into his car and slams his red door closed, satisfied with how flustered you had looked. Revving his engine with a humongous effort to get the race going, he knuckles his leather steering wheel before pulling away from the crowd to let them know that the race will shortly commence.
He is definitely eager to prove you wrong as he observes the way the heavy crowd of people disperse from the middle of the road and let the competitors and their cars through to their designated spots for the countdown.
Engines throttle and rev, starting up and growling like hungry beasts whilst you get into your own car. You then drive to your own assigned spot which had been conveniently placed somewhere in the middle for tonight’s race.
Suddenly, you spot a flash of red roaring up from behind you in your rear view mirror and you resist the roll of your eyes at Chris’ boy racer behaviour.
Chris’ car comes creeping up to level with yours. Slowly, the driver’s window is rolled down and you are faced with his attractive side profile, his nose delicately curving and his jawline popped. Except, now his hair is pulled back by a red bandana, leaving his earrings to glint in the fluorescent artificial light.
He faces forward, but then turns with another smirk plastered to his lips.
You roll your own window down, your engine also screaming to go, but instead of a red colour, your car exudes a violet purple hue, your front and rear lights tinted indigo with plastic filters that make the car in front of you glow a hazy pink.
‘May the best driver win, sugar’
The devil’s smile is concocted between his own teeth, the cheeky glint in his eye echoing the way he mockingly puts his pointer and middle finger up to his forehead to salute you before putting his foot on the gas pedal and roaring ahead to take his privileged place at the front of the line.
᧔♡᧓
Engines growl, their exhaust pipes spitting out puffs of gasoline scented smoke whilst each of the multicoloured cars creep into their places.
An orange car motors past you on your right, and a grey and blue one slides past your left, leaving you in the wet spray that their scuffed tyres kick up, but you’re not paying attention to them.
Craning your neck, your eyes narrow and your jaw grits at the back bumper tail of Chris’ neon red vehicle, the red brake lights glowing like the eyes of a demon as he simply sits stationary.
The city lights glow from the skyscrapers and illuminate the starting route of your racetrack, the wet asphalt making the reflections of the luminescent lampposts shine and bounce about the technicolour array of cars on display.
Chris thinks he’s better than you? Well, you’re just going to have to put that theory to the test then.
You hope that his heart beats just as competitively as yours, his eyes constantly checking for your pink headlights in his rearview mirror.
Finally, reaching into your glove compartment to slide on your black tinted sunglasses, you shut it back up again to listen to the heavily increased revs of car engines. The muffled cheers from the audience provide white background noise whilst the drivers’ exhausts rattle and their pipes growl.
A woman in sky-high stilettos then comes walking into view with a white flag raised above her head.
The crowd suddenly silences, all on the edges of their seats with anticipation.
Without another moment to lose, she quickly swipes down the flag, the white fabric fluttering as she goes before engines shriek and cars jerk forward, each driver putting the pedal to the floor. This forceful way of starting roars the inner workings of their cars whilst they frantically try to switch gears.
Coloured machines weave in and out of each other as the gods of drag racing look down upon the fast-paced urgency of the race, drivers testing one another and pushing their bodies to the limits as they zip and swerve about the road.
You keep your eyes locked upon Chris’ monster of a car though, because it easily pulls out in front and his drive forward quickly clears of any other cars. They just can’t keep up with his intricate drift work and very readily fall behind him.
You’ll admit, his turn of the wheel is masterful and his eye for the surroundings is impeccable as he nearly just shaves around corners and obstacles whilst keeping a steady track of the pathway ahead. However, this only increases your desire to win more.
You find your foot gently feathering upon the accelerator, your car rattling within your ears as the wind from your open window beats against your face and whips your hair around your neck.
You have already overtaken a handful of cars by now, with tyres screeching and smoke exuding from the rubber.
The eyes of every racer competing constantly zip about, just to check for lurking police cruises whilst traveling down the racer’s route through the nearly abandoned city road.
Your beasts for machines rocket past alleyways, giving homeless people a show as your paint jobs flash by their eyes in a juvenile blur.
Gears click as both yourself and Chris constantly press down on the clutch to drift around tight corners, your teeth gritting as you realise that you are now only a few competitive cars behind him.
Chris, meanwhile, frantically looks through his wing mirror to count how many cars lie between yourself and him.
But, then he widens his eyes and has to adjust it in confusion at the infuriating sight of your purple car hightailing it up the road to try and catch him. Already?
This always fucking happens whenever he gets a head start.
He rolls his eyes, stepping on his gas pedal even more to makes his car groan and jerk away on in front once again.
His bandana stays secured onto his head whilst he chews irritably against a fresh toothpick selected from out of his own glove compartment that also contains random junk such as cherry cigarette packets and condoms.
‘Fuckin’ woman’ He spits underneath his breath before aggressively jerking his wheel to the side and rounding another corner perfectly. His car skids and his wheels screech over the asphalt, centimetres away from hitting the curb before he’s straightening his steering wheel up again.
This time though, he can see the finish line in the distance, the small crowd of spectators gathering like little observant ants, watching as his car comes racing towards them from the mist of the city horizon.
However, you come in straight behind him with your engine roaring and your gasoline bubbles popping. Soon, your window reaches his, and you look to your left to see his side profile.
His jaw is clenched with his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows sitting in a glared furrow. His pupils then quickly flit to your car, and you pass each other a challenging look, hate spiralling within your gazes.
And everything is passive between the two of you, that is, until Chris decides to fight dirty.
His lips purse and he yanks his neck to face forward once again, before turning his wheel aggressively. His drifter then swerves near your wheels, nearly knocking you off to the side and sending you skidding into the curb. You frantically have to straighten back up again after only narrowly avoiding the crunch of his front bonnet.
That fucker.
‘HEY!?’
You yell to him with your window down, but he puts his own one up in response, his lips twitching up into a mischievous smile as he tries to tango with you upon the stretch of your own battlefield containing engine oil and concrete road strips.
He goes in for another direct hit, your tyres dangerously close to each other’s as his machinery tries to ram into yours.
Worryingly, you realise that Chris probably isn’t going to stop this dangerous teasing because of his determination to win. So, through your better judgement, you slow yourself and defeatedly allow his cocky red bumper to cut in front of your bonnet.
Chris beats you by a second, his wheels screeching over the pathetic make-shift line drawn in squiggly black graffiti.
You’re practically seething at this point.
After you angrily jerk your steering wheel, your car drifts to the side and it expels hot smoke from the grind it has against your back tyres before coming to a sideways halt.
You put your car in park, take off your seatbelt and speedily open your car door.
As you step out, you see that Chris has also stopped and gotten out himself, his sneakers crunching against the wet tarmac and his leather jacket squeaking whilst he slams his own car door shut behind him.
You clock eyes with each other and immediately find yourself storming up to his victorious figure that yet again leans against his car door suavely.
Whilst making your way over, someone sidles up to him and hands him a thick wad of cash that he stuffs right into his conniving little pockets with a mean smile of his face, aimed directly at you.
As you reach him, you just can’t help yourself, and before you know it you’re knuckling your fists into his leather jacket and yanking him right down to your face. His breath hitches in shock as he sees your lips close enough to claim that you are practically kissing.
Instead of actually kissing him however, you spit out a ‘what the fuck are you playing at?’ with your eyes narrowed and glinting frostily in the city lights.
They travel over his face, scanning him with scepticism whilst little strands of his raven brown hair curl out from the hold of his red bandana, no longer combing the shorter ones back and just letting them freely swish about his eyes in the wind.
‘Listen honey if you want me to pay for any scratches I gave to your paint job no can do, told you that money was mine…-‘ he cheekily retorts, using one of his ridiculously irritating nicknames for you to further worsen your drumming heart beat.
You didn’t realise you had pulled him this close until now.
This makes your nostrils flare with anger and you quickly release him, seemingly in denial of your own feelings as you listening to the way the zips of his leather jacket jingle at the force of your strength.
You scoff, sticking your nose up and further voicing your discontent at him.
‘Chris- you fucking cheated?!’ You shout with a small laugh in disbelief, your arms crossed over your chest as you refer to his illegal drag collision.
‘No proof? Didn’t happen, sweetheart’ he sassily bites back at you, which makes you falter, but your glare only harshens after he immaturely pokes the centre of your chest.
Does this man just make it his mission to piss you off as much as humanly possible?
Both of you maintain tense eye contact, your chest heaving whilst Chris’ eyes subtly flick downwards to soak in the look of your body.
As more coloured drifters cruise past the finish line, the silence gets awkward, awkward enough for you to spontaneously shouts a shaky ‘I want a fucking rematch!’, not really sure what provoked you to voice this random request. Usually, you couldn’t bear to be around Chris for more than 5 seconds at a time.
So why did you all of a sudden have the urge to be alone with him?
The way you look at him prompts Chris to suspect that this request probably isn’t just about having a rematch, that in fact it’s something much deeper… what that is, he doesn’t know yet, but he’s prepared to find out.
Clearing his throat, he slips a box of cherry scented cigarettes from out of his leather jacket whilst looking around wearily. You swallow, and watch him in silence as he puts one into his mouth and flicks on his lighter. Holding it up to the cherry, it sparks, and a small wisp of smoke puffs out from his pursed mouth.
He opens the door of his Nissan once again before sliding inside.
The scent of maraschino cherries diffuses across his ride and melts into the white leather seats as he shuts his door before using his hand to turn on the ignition. Then, he rolls down his window to thankfully still see you standing there expectantly and waiting for an answer.
Chris simply sits back in his seat, watching the wind comb through your hair as sickly sweet cherry flavoured smoke finds its way up into your nose.
‘Well?’ You raise your eyebrows and snap at him, your hip cocking sassily. But even though your exterior front looks confident, your insides panic and your mouth becomes dry at the very much tangible sexual tension within the air.
Chris looks forward for a second, leaving the both of you in silence once again so that you can take in the far away laughs and clinks of beer bottles from the left over straggling gamblers that are now only talking about Chris.
He squints his eyes with his cigarette still in his mouth, deep in thought, before crinkling his nose and sniffing, reaching his hand out to twist the keys of his car in the ignition properly. His car rumbles to life as he takes out his cigarette, resting it in between his two fingertips.
That arm decides to leans itself on the car door as his wrist and hand dangle out of the window.
‘Meet me at Carolina Point at 3am’
He mumbles to you, as if not wanting anyone else to know about this secret little rendezvous before he’s pushing down the handbrake of his car and it’s lunging forward.
He motors away with a singular hand gripping the steering wheel, turning it smoothly and leaving you with the remnants of his car exhaust fumes, his cherry cigarette butts and the smell of his black and white leather jacket.
᧔♡᧓
It’s 3am.
And music quietly hums from your radio as you pull up next to Chris’ parked car, the glittering red paint job a flashy eyesore when matched with the dark background of the skyline.
Carolina point overlooks a section of the city that is well known by racers like him and yourself and so it provides a nice backdrop for the strange meeting that you two are about to have. Chris sits on the bonnet of his car, looking down to the veins of his city before twisting his neck to observe the way you get out of your own car.
A small smile ticks at the side of his lips before he quickly wipes it away and stands up from his bonnet, the machinery creaking and the suspension bouncing upwards after being released from his weight.
‘Surprised you came’ he muses, before spitting the old toothpick from in between his lips into the long grass.
You roll your eyes and meet him halfway, already nervous about being alone with him in such a close proximity, especially after what had already unfolded between you two beforehand.
‘Course I did, you cheated’ you muse spitefully, and stop right in front of his taller frame. But Chris edges a little bit closer after you had come to a halt, which makes your palms sweat.
You try to keep your composure, fully intent on getting on with the business of the rematch you had wanted, until you fail when you physically watch the way Chris’ eyes dilated at the sight of you.
It makes you nervous to see his body react to you in such a way, and that nervousness only gets worse after he intentionally lowers his voice to purr a quiet ‘oh yeah? An’ how are we gonna fix that hm?’. His head tilts and his tone is as smooth as caramel, the tease almost belittling in manner.
Your chest expands with a stuttering deep breath, the smell of cherries tart on his tongue and overwhelming as the scent stains his jacket too.
Your heart quickens in pace the closer Chris’ head gets to yours, but you don’t move back, even though every siren in your body imaginable screams that this is so terribly fucking wrong.
You blink up at him, almost forgetting why you’re supposed to be here before dumbly stuttering ‘b-by having a rematch…’.
Chris looks at you so hungrily… so primally, and you hardly even get the time to finish your sentence before your mouth is being engulfed by his. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, and neither do you.
His lips are soft and buttery as they rub against yours, your whole entire body stiff and your eyes wide, before you ever so slowly melt into his embrace.
Chris utters a quiet whimper of content and the noise almost makes you squeeze your thighs together. You didn’t even realise Chris was capable of making a noise like that.
Your lips smack together after Chris pulls away, saliva wetting the moist pink skin.
You’re trapped within a daze, utterly stunned and drunk on the taste of his mouth. Chris’ eyelashes feather, and he bites his lip in nervousness, testing the waters of what he’s just done to you. But you look as though you’re absolutely enamoured by it and so he grins in satisfaction.
He goes back again, this time more aggressively, to suck and pull on your lips, and you freely let him, not a single thought behind your eyes apart from the way his teeth pull on your flesh.
‘I- I want a rematch’
Chris pulls away just once for you to voice this timid defiance, however his only thought is concerned with how deliciously red and juicy your lips look. He acknowledges you only by dipping back in and pressing another soft kiss to your peachy pillows, humming a little ‘mhm’ in agreement but also not really listening to you as his face twists and his nose brushes against yours.
The wet sound of his lips sucking your plumper ones into his mouth makes your panties dampen.
‘What if I wanna make it up to you in some other way?’ He daringly mumbles against your lips which wets the skin even around them with his saliva. The arch of your back is subtle, but it’s still fully there as you weight up the pros and cons of this situation. But really… are there any cons aside from the afterthought of knowing that you let your sworn enemy touch your body in the most intimate of places?
At the present, it seems like such a small price to pay within the delusion of your lust. And Chris’ hands already feel just so magical when their big impressions carve their way down your waistline, sliding over the bumps of your hips.
Fuck they’re huge in comparison to yours. And that thought alone makes you wet, your folds becoming even slicker at the motion of Chris using his hands to force you up against the hard side of his car.
The metal and glass behind your back makes you shiver and the machinery is freezing cold in the already frosted mountainous air of Carolina point.
This cold suddenly brings you clarity, and for a second you have to fully stop and pull away from his intoxicating tongue, just so you can voice a stupid ‘wait- what are we doing…?’.
Your mind goes reeling and your eyes look like saucers when remembering just who you are kissing… and who is pushing you up against his car.
Your chest heaves and your voice sounds fully strangled, the vision of making out with Chris plaguing your mind and turning it rotten.
But Chris only gazes at you, understanding how weird this must feel, because it feels weird to him too. However he can’t help it, one taste was enough for him and now he’s hooked.
He pushes back into you with haste, his thick hips greedily pinning you to the side of his car as he groans an ‘ugh- fuck it, who even cares anymore?’.
It’s almost like he’s jointly voicing this to his own self control, because he then allows himself to messily paw at the side of his vehicle, frantically looking for the door handle to his back seat whilst fully enthralling himself within your kissing lips.
Your tongues twist, and it’s messy, but you love it just the same. Especially after feeling Chris beneath his baggy black jeans, thick and throbbing for you when he moans in approval at the touch of the door handle.
He curls his fingers into it and yanks it open, the suctioning sound of the door making your heart gallop tenfold because of the connotations that come with Chris forcefully pushing you into the backseat of his car.
Are you two really about to do this? What even happened to get you to this stage?
It all seems like such a blur now, the spontaneity of your actions helping to numb the idea of regret. An idea that you know you’re defintely going to feel in the morning.
But not tonight… tonight is about wandering hands and careless affections, between two people who just so happen to supposedly ‘hate’ each other.
He grabs you with a growled laugh of ‘c’mere’, his large palms splaying underneath your thighs as he hoists you into his arms and walks you around the sharp edges of his red door.
Practically throwing you inside, he’s eager to clamber in himself and restart his torturous decent of your luscious neck skin.
So he does, and he slams the door behind him whilst doing so.
Meanwhile, you spread your legs to let him into you, your ass sinking into the plush white leather of his seats as your back comes to rest against the opposite side door.
Now you’re seeing a completely different Chris, that hovers over you and gives you that toe curling gaze he’s perfected over the many months of first competing with you.
The gaze is reminiscent of the first time you two ever raced together, with a hint of attraction and chemistry there, until you started to hate each other as soon as it became more of a competition to see which one was better.
This Chris is so astronomically different in comparison to the one you had grown to absolutely despise, the two of you stuck in this viciously competitive cycle of building up tension after tension until all of it just burst and ended up with Chris’ head right in between your legs.
He yanks off every single article of clothing wrapped around your lower half, trying to resist the urge of snapping open your underwear and making a mess of the delicate red lace as soon as he sees it.
Fuck. You’re even wearing his racing colours.
‘These for me?’ He teases and raises his eyebrows whilst simultaneously slipping off your panties and lifting them to the side of his face.
Without knowing any better, you smirk and nod, guessing that it’ll drive his narcissism absolutely crazy. And you’re right. Because soon after, he scrunches up the soaked panties into his fist and throws them up to the front of the car. They messily then land on the dashboard.
He smirks down at your shining red cunt, wet stickiness practically drooling from out of your hole already.
‘Imma drive with your panties on the dashboard all the way home so that anyone who seems them will know how good I fucked this pretty little pussy…’
You swallow a pant at his crude language, not being able to help the shake of your hands or the blink of your eyes. ‘Do it… for me?’ You coquettishly breathe back, and it only drives Chris up the wall further. With this being said, he obeys and darts his head down to your centre, wasting no time in peppering small suctioned kisses against your inner thighs.
They quiver as soon as his face gets closer to your centre, and you know he’s just about to put his tongue on you because he smirks, gearing up to say another filthy thing.
‘M’sorry I cheated baby’ he pouts boyishly, before giving your clit an open-mouthed kiss.
You whine and buck your hips up into the firm hold of his rough hands, that have slid around to force you down and keep you from squirming away at his stimulation. ‘Forgive me?’ He speaks with his head tilted. Then a thick globule of spit comes tumbling from his mouth to plink onto your throbbing heat.
It greedily rolls down your pinkness and Chris goes in for another heavy kiss, this time closing his eyes to eat you like his life depended on it, licking around you clit and even dipping himself into your hole. He’s not sure when he’ll next get the chance to fuck you like this and so savours it with as much fever as he possibly can.
All the while, you lie with your back propped up against the opposite door, looking down at him with your calves smoothly slung around his shoulders.
You hypnotically watch how your thighs twitch at every opportunity Chris gives you, his tongue rolling over several pleasure points in an effort to get you to come.
‘Mmm-okay’ you moan before bitting your hand and mumbling through your teeth ‘I forgive you, please- please just let me cum’.
He had been savouring this for a while now, leisurely dipping his tongue in and out of you whenever he felt like it as he pressed his other palm over the thick bulge in his jeans, trying to suppress its ache by kneading it downwards and squeezing himself.
He struggles not to openly thrust his hips into his hand at the tiny whimpers you make, because you sound so pretty trying to reach your high.
He sighs before giving you one last rolling kiss. ‘I guess that’s only fair, alright I’ll let you cum sweetheart’.
Straight after he says this you let out a heaved ‘Jesus Christ!’, your cry brandishing tears within your eyes as one of Chris’ long fingers unexpectedly slide right up into your throbbing cunt, your precome already acting as natural lubricant to coat his skin.
It’s almost mouthwatering how good it feels, for both you and Chris. His finger seems to fit in there perfectly, and so he adds another, stroking your walls and curling them upwards delicately.
‘Can you fit three in there baby…? Please let me put three in… you look pretty when you’re drooling for my fingers’ he whines, his voice high pitched and begging for you to allow him the pleasure of three.
‘Fuck- yes, please, please put three in. I can handle it!’ You moan in desperation, not really knowing what to do with your hands, so one feeds itself into his luscious brown locks whilst the other one curls around the white leather headrest of the back seat you’re sitting on.
You white knuckle it when Chris effortlessly coos ‘there’s a good girl… gonna make you feel so good’ whilst inserting his third finger, its length making your back arch and the windows of the car fog up.
‘Look at you… fucking up the back of my car, needy girl’ Chris muses whilst observing the way some of your wetness leaks out and blobs onto his nice white leather seats, the condensation of your horny breath staining the windows and your hand practically clawing at his headrest whilst his fingers work inside of you.
‘S-shut up. You wreck the outside of my car, I’ll wreck the inside of yours’ you bite back sassily, your whole entire chin tipping back in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm clawing beneath the lining of your gut.
Chris’ fingers speed their pace at this, and the squelch of them working past your screaming orgasm nearly makes him cum all over himself within his pants, especially after hearing your continuous moan at the motion his harsh fingertip thrusts.
After you calm, you careen forward to grip onto the wrist of his hand, tapping out immediately in overstimulation. He pulls his sopping wet fingers from out of your core and then lollipops them into his mouth.
As you sit there and regain your breath, your cheeks redden impossibly further at Chris’ quipped demand of ‘take off your top’, still with his fingers bitten in between his teeth.
You do as he says, watching him pull his hand back out of his mouth with hooded eyes as you peel off the tight fabric.
He doesn’t even have to tell you to take off your bra either, you just do it, giving him the gorgeous sight of your tits resting on your chest.
‘This good enough for you?’ you tease, letting one of the straps from your bra slide down your pointer finger before tossing it next to your already discarded panties that sit upon his dashboard.
Chris blinks at your devilish action in shock, before putting a smirk back onto his handsome face.
‘Oh I am going to fuckin’ destroy you’ he cackles playfully, before curling his hands around the backs of your thighs and pulling your body to lay down horizontally.
You gulp as you tilt your chin upwards, watching the way he pulls his jeans and his underwear down with his gleaming cock springing up to hit his lower abdomen.
Licking your lips, you have to squeeze your thighs together at the sight of it as he then turns towards you and advances forward, with his lower half bare and his racer jacket and black t-shirt still in tact over his top half.
His pulsing cock stands on end, and he bites his bottom lip whilst clambering over your thighs to get to your stomach, much to your utter confusion.
That is, until you realise why he asked you to take your top off in the first place.
Planting his knees on either side of your underarms, they sink into his plush leather as he towers over you, grinning at your heaving chest. From his height advantage, he gathers a jewel of spit into his mouth and tips his head forward, allowing it to ooze outwards and splash against the valley in between your tits.
You swallow at this, watching as he then shuffles downwards and leans the head of his dripping prick onto the puddle of saliva he had created.
‘Push your pretty tits together sugar’.
Now when using this nickname, it sounds sickly sweet instead of full of malice, coated with a thin layer of cherry sauce as his cheeky grin perfectly mirrors the cheeky action of him using his hands to help you squeeze the sides of your tits together.
Your skin feels sticky with Chris’ spit and Chris lets out the ungodliest of groans when pushing his tip forcefully into the crack between them.
You hiss in pain at the feeling of Chris’ cock wedged against your tits, but bite your lip and ignore it in favour of watching the way he fucks his hips into them.
His pink head disappears in and out of the top opening and he has to fall forward and grip his hands onto the door to keep himself steady. He ruts himself faster with the added security and his car begins to shake at the aggressive motion.
He had done the majority of building up his orgasm whilst eating you out, so now all he had to do was finish it off, and what better way to do that than with his cock buried in between your tits?
‘Fuck Chris-’ you mumble with your mouth dropped open and your eyes glued to the way small drips of precum already leak out from his cock onto the flushed skin of your chest.
‘Ugh- I’m… I’m cumming- fuck- open your m-mouth’ Chris moans into the air, squeezing his eyes shut as the elastic band of his orgasm snaps and forces cum to come squirting out of his head, some of the sticky white liquid coating your chest, but the other half of it finding its way into your open mouth.
You wait for Chris to milk himself dry, your tongue still out expectantly, until he sees that you’re wanting permission to swallow it.
To help you, he reaches out one of his tremouring fingertips to gather up the cum smeared over your chin, then he slides them into your mouth.
You suck on them, swallowing all of what he has to give you with a tired but appreciative hum as he looks down at you with glassy eyes of complacency.
What the fuck just happened between you two… and why did he feel like he wanted to do it all over again?
᧔♡᧓
‘You still really not gonna pay for any of the scrapes you gave my car huh?’ You speak up into the awkward silence as Chris shuts the back door of his Nissan, leaving the smell of sex to permeate within his car.
He lights one of his cigarettes and snorts, trudging his way around to the front of his car before yanking the door open, your bra and panties still resting on the dashboard and yourself still very much naked underneath your regular clothes.
‘In your dreams sugar’.
There’s another silence as the two of you just look at each other, not knowing if whether or not you’ll ever see each other in that kind of vulnerable light again.
One thing is for sure though, no one can ever know about what happened here tonight.
Chris looks almost hesitant to go with his face softening and smoke tumbling from out of the red cherry of his cigarette. He blinks to snap himself out of it though.
‘Cya at the next race baby…’
He tips his head and then slides down into his car as you look at him wantonly.
‘Yeah… cya’.
᧔♡᧓
Author’s notes p.2: hot. RIVAL RACERS AND ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE OH YEAHHH. This is defintely the longest fucking thing I’ve done so I apologise for that lol. And I’m also equally sorry for the ridiculously long wait omg, I’ve been hyping this up too much so I’m sorry if it’s not that great bc most of it was written on major sleep deprivation haha. Also guysss exciting stuff is happening as I’m almost at 2,000 followers and me and @luv4kozume have got something really fun planned for us both hitting 2k!!
Taglist: @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @stursweet @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @thesturniolos @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @nicksmainbitch @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattswifey00 @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @mattestrella @hearts4chriss @orangeypepsi
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris x reader
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The Wary Weretiger
It doesn't exactly take a Ranpo for the Agency to know Atsushi is struggling. Not for nothing but Atsushi is a homeless teenager in Yokohama.
No one knows where he stays. No one knows how he's managed to fend for himself or how long he's been on the streets.
They do know the money Atsushi has, he stole. Atsushi had just looked at them coldly and asked if they'd arrest him for it.
Dazai had laughed and said if that was the case Kunikida would arrest him for however many times he's stolen his wallet. Which did lighten the mood again.
The Agency did want to help Atsushi. He had unknowingly wormed his way into everyone's hearts.
But the thing is, Atsushi was stubborn. He not accept help nor ask for it. The teen really was the embodiment of a stray cat.
Atsushi hid his hunger pains and the way his cash was depleting. And if they weren't detectives, they might've fallen for it.
Atsushi himself didn't seem concerned by it. Kenji, bless his heart was the only one who could really mention it. Atsushi had shrugged "tigers can go 2 weeks without food, don't worry about it."
No one really wanted to know how he knew that applied to him.
So, everyone was very excited when Kenji burst into the office one day. Quite literally, the door came straight off it's hinges, yelling "Atsushi got the job!"
Dazai grinned "that's great, what did he get?" Atsushi had been quietly job hunting on his own. Though they'd all known, they stayed quiet about it.
"Oh its a lovely little cat cafe." Smiled Kenji, telling them all about it. Dazai's smile wavered because he knew that cafe. Kunikida noticed his change in attitude and looked at him pointedly.
"I might be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that cafes a front company for the Port Mafia."
"What?!" Yelled Kunikida. Ranpo nodded "no yeah you're right on that."
Atsushi took the news well. And by well, he flopped onto the sofa. And screamed out whole bunch of swears that even had Dazai taken aback.... Before writing them down.
Kenji frowned, patting Atsushi's head like one would a distressed kitten. Atsushi sighed, allowing it for a moment before getting up. "So I finally get a job and I have to quit."
"Not necessarily" Said Dazai, getting everyone's attention. "Unlike most front companies, this one is still a legitimate cafe. It just so happens that the owners are running a successful cafe, while money laundering to the Port Mafia."
Atsushi frowned "well that's great and all. But last I checked I was being hunted by the Port Mafia. Wouldn't this just be me walking into a trap?"
Dazai shook his head "see because the Port Mafia don't own the place, they've given the workers and the business protection from all other criminals. Including the Port Mafia themselves."
Ranpo nodded "you're bounty has to mention of you, simply a white tiger. You're ability isn't registed and as long as you don't use it at work, they won't know otherwise.
Atsushi thinks about it for a bit before nodding, slowly. "Alright... I'll stick with it for now. Should've known it was suspicious that the pay was so good."
He doesn't mention how desperately he needed this job. Nor how relieved he is to keep this one.
Dazai smiles kindly "well congrats Atsushi" he said before jumping up excitedly. "And now we can all eat the celebration cake." Atsushi looks at him, confused "cake?" Ranpo jumps out of his chair "finally! Bring it in Kenji!"
Kenji lights up, hurrying off and returning with a delicious looking chocolate cake with "congratulations" in rainbow coloured icing.
"We got the cake from the cafe but me and Kyouka did the icing." Smiled Kenji, Kyouka nodded with a small smile. Atsushi looked at the cake, overwhelmed and disbelief. "You... You did this, for me?" He asked quietly.
And oh the sheer shock on his face made everyone want to hug this poor kid. But they refrained, knowing that wouldn't go well at all. "Of course we did" said Kyouka, before handing him the first slice.
Atsushi took it, and for the first time since they'd all met him, he put down his rucksack. The rucksack that Atsushi guarded like his life depended on it. That held all his valuables and possessions.
He put it down, and moved to sit with Kenji and Kyouka to eat cake. Everyone subtly exchanged smiles, using all their training not to react and dug into the cake together.
#The Wary Weretiger#atsushi nakajima#bsd atsushi#bsd#bsd ranpo#bsd dazai#bsd kenji#bungou stray dogs
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Fearless -O.P⁸¹
Not edited or proofread
This took forever and I apologise
Warnings: overuse of words cause I cba to find synonyms , I took lyrics out so its choppy at some parts
I want to thank @rinna0017 for telling me Oscar is fearless by Taylor swift coded because yes he is
Wc:1.5k
There's something about the way
The street looks when it's just rained
Oscar and Y/n were enjoying day three of seven in Portugal , the weather had been great the whole time they'd been there . Well that was until they planned to actually go somewhere and then it rained cats and dogs , but when you're a young couple in love nothing can put you in a bad mood
The pair couldn't stop giggling as they tried to either find some tree to hide under or a hideaway to duck under until the rain stopped
There's a glow off the pavement
Any oil that had leaked onto the pavements before the northern downpour were displaying all the colours of the rainbow as it mixed with the rain water , which made for a pretty sight
You walk me to the car
Oscar was in more of a rush to get to the rental car , probably due to his expensive clothing, practically dragging her
"C'mon baby we're gonna get soaked if you don't hurry up" he basically pleaded as he turned to look back at her
"It's only rain oscar, it's not going to kill you" she said with a laugh
As they approached the quaint Mini Cooper they had rented opting for a car that wouldn't stand out unlike the McLaren's he was used to
And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there
In the middle of the parking lot, yeah
Oscar was confused at first when he opened the passenger door for his girlfriend to get in , but she just put her stuff on the seat and closed the door . As he caught her eyes to question her he saw her stood like the confused emoji(🤷🏻♀️) hands up and a head tilt, of course he knew what this meant as he'd been in this situation before
"We're not dancing in the rain again"
"It was fun last time don't lie , you just want to go back to the hotel and watch Ozark" she accused
"Okay maybe I do , but don't act like Jason Bateman isn't your celebrity crush" he retorted as she laughed knowing it was true
We're drivin' down the road, I wonder if you know
I'm trying so hard not to get caught up now
Y/n will admit that she was one hundred percent ogling/admiring her boyfriend from the passenger seat , but who wouldn't that white shirt was doing wonders for him
"It's a good thing I don't ever let you drive , you'd crash 'cause you're too busy looking at me" he laughed feeling her eyes bore a hole in the side of his head
"Some people take it as a compliment y'know having their girlfriend think they're hot" she tried to sound serious/annoyed, but couldn't help but crack a smile
"You think I'm hot?" He questioned turning to her with a classic "I hate you" with a shake of the head and a grin
But you're just so cool, run your hands through your hair
Absentmindedly makin' me want you
Everyone knows that one of the hottest things a guy can do is run his hand through his hair subconsciously, so when he did it before putting his hand on the back of her headrest her heart nearly stopped due to how hot those two actions were together
Truth be told if she was in that drivers seat they would be parked far enough away from anyone walking by and if anyone from the authorities questioned them they'd claim they didn't know the laws in Portugal
And I don't know how it gets better than this
How could life possibly get any better than driving down some country road wind in her hair , sun shining , her boyfriend beside her , and some Taylor Swift love song playing on the radio as they sang along
"Are you sure we can't just stay here forever?" She asked looking over at him
"I wish, but we both know you'd get bored in a week" he said with a smile and a playful shove in her direction
"Depends if you talk to me about cricket or not "
That statement earned her a scoff and a " don't lie you love it " from the man next to her as she laughed along . She didn't mean it in a mean way , everyone has one subject that they can and will talk about with someone even if they don't care or like it
You take my hand and drag me
headfirst, fearless
The car came to an abrupt stop and
Y/n was confused as to why he'd stopped and where they were , well that was until she looked around and out of the window as he was getting out that she realised they were at a beach that they'd seen what they assumed were other tourists on the first day who looked like they were having the times of their lives dancing a long to music and chatting or sunbathing and taking it all in
"When you said we were going to come back to this beach, I'd assumed it was going to be when the weather was nice"
"Don't act like you don't want to have a fearless moment right now" he beamed at her as he lead her out of the car and down the boardwalk
"You know me so well" she said basically running behind as he dragged her
And I don't know why but with you I'd dance
In a storm in my best dress, fearless
As they swayed in the heavy rain and powerful wind Y/n realised that she wouldn't want to dance in her best most favourite dress with anyone else , he is also the only person she'd run through an airport for but that's a different conversation
It was a stupid thing to do and both parties knew it would probably lead to a cold in the following days , but they couldn't have cared less in the moment , cause when life starts to feel like a Taylor Swift song suddenly nothing else matters , and even if they did get sick Oscar had been meaning to catch up on some Netflix show anyway so it was a win win situation
After about 2 and a half minutes when the giggles and adrenaline had wore off and the cold and wind were starting to affect them , they made a run for the rental as they tried not to slip and tumble over curbs on the way
So baby drive slow 'til we run out of road
In this one-horse town, I wanna stay right here
Back roads had quickly became on of their favourite places and today was no different , they had to drive slower than usual due to the rain (top tips) but they didn't have anywhere to be so they could easily spend all day driving in circles round and round just basking in each others company
"Are you sure they can't just let you race exclusively in Portugal forever?" Y/n said looking out the window at the beautiful scenery
"You say this to every place we visit" he chuckled " we can always come back for summer break" he tried to bargain
"I will be holding you to that Piastri"
She said pointing an accusing finger at him
In this passenger seat, you put your eyes on me
In this moment, now capture it, remember it
The sight of him looking at her with the utmost adoration, as they made their way back to the hotel because it was getting late , she knew she had to capture it and probably post it on her Instagram account later or just keep it to herself until his birthday or he did something worth celebrating either way she knew she needed to have a photograph of it
"No paparazzi" he said covering the lenses with his palm with the biggest grin on his face knowing it was such a bad joke but he said it everytime his girlfriend would try to take a video or photo of him
Well, you stood there with me in the doorway
My hands shake, I'm not usually this way
After a long day of being fools in love they arrived back at the hotel they had called home for the last few days . Y/n couldn't help but stare at the button up he was wearing and how he had the sleeves rolled up and the top couple buttons undone (an almost deathly combination to any woman)
"You know you don't have to stare at me until I make the first move ? You can just kiss me whenever" he half joked
But you pull me in and I'm a little more brave
Despite him saying that he was the first to make a move , but she was definitely the more eager of the two and desperately wanted out of those wet clothes one way or another
It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really somethin'
It wasn't the first kiss they shared or even the first of the day, probably the first in half an hour , but that didn't make it any less special and exciting as they stepped into the elevator and headed to their room
#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fluff#y/n#oscar piastri x reader#female#f1 x reader#f1#f1 fanfic#taylor swift#fearless taylor’s version
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KISS PROOOOMPTS
For any pairing, may I have either "i think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me" or “lifting your lover up”?
KISS PROMPT FOR YOU MY LOVE
Thank you so much for asking 🥰 i love you!!
Here's a little Landoscar snack for you!!
Somewhere in the distance, a blend of old classics and current electro-pop mingled into one echoing pulse, married together with the laughter and chatter of people eating, drinking, and enjoying their evening. The evening was warm. The sky was completely dark, but the lights of the Italian town cast a warm and inviting glow over the cobbled streets. Despite the late hour, divine smells of cooking blended in a burst of sweetened tomatoes and sugary cinnamon.
Two young men, one tall and pale, one a little shorter, with an unruly mop of brown curls, made their way slowly along the street. Like most of the other people in the town, they were enjoying the relative chill of the evening. The day had been almost unbearably hot, and the heat still radiated from the stone walls around them. A light mist of rain surrounded them, but it brought nothing but cool relief.
As the two came to the centre of the stone bridge, coated in lichen and years of built up dirt, a distinctive pop snapped their attention to somewhere over the water. A shower of golden sparks descended over the river. Another pop, and a multicoloured supernova materialised in the sky, only for a second.
The slightly taller of the two, Oscar, stopped and turned his whole body to face the direction of the fireworks.
“It’s like one of my sisters’ rom-coms.” Oscar said with a hushed chuckle.
Lando snorted.
“Yeah? With the rain and all?”
“Yeah, the fireworks, the music. You know.” Oscar looked dreamily out over the water, watching the sparkling explosions.
“Well, if this is a rom-com, I think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me.” Lando said with a casual shrug.
If Oscar had been looking more closely, or paying more attention to anything other than Lando’s mouth, he would have noticed the way Lando fidgeted with his sleeve cuffs to disguise the shaking of his hands. He would have noticed the barely-noticeable flush of Lando’s cheeks, and the way he refused to meet Oscar’s eyes. Perhaps he might even have noticed the way Lando looked down at his feet, shy, and wet his lips to a shine with the tip of his tongue.
As it was, Oscar really wasn’t paying much attention at all to what Lando was doing. He was rather preoccupied with the white noise and static that had washed over his brain.
Lando cleared his throat softly and looked up at Oscar with a half-squint. Oscar seemed to register this, and his brain reconnected to the rest of his body. He took just one step towards Lando, tentative.
At that very moment, three things happened in unison.
First, the light drizzle morphed with a vengeance into a heavy, summer shower. Squeals of pedestrians caught in the downpour echoed around the street, but neither Lando nor Oscar noticed. It was mere seconds before they were the only people left out in the rain, with everyone else having scurried to shelter.
Second, the firework display seemed to enter its finale, with a cacophony of bangs and booms, and a never-ending flurry of sparks in every colour of the rainbow. Accompanied by music, the chatter of the busy street, and the sound of the rain, the fireworks display was vibrant and chaotic and Lando and Oscar were missing it completely.
Lando and Oscar were entirely wrapped up in each other. Lando had backed himself against the waist-high wall of the bridge, and Oscar pinned him there, arms encircling his waist. Oscar, in an unprecedented burst of confidence, had wiggled his knee in between Lando’s thighs, and had his hands firmly planted on Lando’s hips. He had gazed at Lando for just a moment, watched as his pupils dilated to swallow up much of the lightness of his iris, before leaning in to gently take Lando’s lips between his own.
Lando sighed into the kiss, and licked insistently at Oscar’s lower lip. Oscar’s lips parted, and Lando took to biting on his swollen lower lip, never quite letting him breathe fully. Just as Oscar seemed to have coached Lando into a bit of a rhythm, Lando pulled away and leaned back.
“I’ve been waiting for this.” He said with a cheeky, impish grin.
“You could’ve said.” Oscar rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, could’ve.” Lando shrugged. “This was more fun though.”
Lando hopped backwards, so he was sitting on the wall, giving him just a little bit more height. He draped his arms around Oscar’s neck, pulling him close again. His fingers ventured further afield, winding themselves tightly into the longer hair at the base of Oscar’s neck, eliciting a sigh of pleasure. He gave an experimental tug, forcing Oscar’s head back a little, exposing his neck.
Lando took the opportunity to kiss along Oscar’s jaw and down his neck, nibbling gently to leave little pink blooms where a mark would show itself later. Oscar dug his fingers deeper into the flesh of Lando’s hips with a groan, doing his damnedest to pull Lando ever closer. Lando released his grip on Oscar’s hair, instead letting his hands wander along Oscar’s neck and jaw.
The fireworks ended with one final flourish, and the rain seemed to have worn itself out. Lando and Oscar pulled apart and stared at each other, giggling. Oscar’s hair was plastered flat against his forehead, and Lando’s curls threatened to be weighed down into some semblance of a bowl cut.
With a final wet kiss on Oscar’s unsuspecting mouth, Lando jumped back down off the wall, and steered Oscar away with an arm around his waist. Their hotel rooms - and the promise of dry clothes - awaited.
#thank you for sending me this!!#i hope you enjoy!!#it's a bit weird and ambient and over-descriptive i fear#but shhhh#it is done and it is yours#i love you!#liquid tag#cha#cha writes#landoscar#landoscar fic
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Welcome back to Woodstone B&B where stunning sunrises welcome you each day!
As well as stunning surprises I guess, because as I discovered after last entry, the Lady of the Manor and the ghost that has no pants have a...thing going on.
Flower: Oh yeah, they're all over each other like jellyfish!
Uh...huh...
The Woodstone property is pretty massive and one of the nicest spots is our very own lake!
Thor: Thor is jealous of pixel self, it has been half a century since Thor was able to fish for that greatest of all foods...cod.
Alberta: Oh lord, don't get him started.
Trevor: Can we fish in the lake in real life, Jay?
Ahem...unfortunately after consultation with the EPA, we've been advised that the level of heavy metals in the water is slightly too high so in the interests of our guests, fishing is off limits.
Now here's something of interest, here at Woodstone we have a secret underground vault! It was constructed in the 1890s by Elias Woodstone, no doubt to hold all the Woodstone family riches.
Hetty: Which he didn't get the chance to use, instead he ended up locked inside it by the builder. Which is where cuckolding will get you, so take note.
I assure all prospective guests that the skeleton in the ACTUAL basement is fake, I mean, obviously we wouldn't leave a real skeleton on the premises!
Er, Pete, what the Hell are you doing?
Pete: I appreciate worksmanship, and this is fine workmanship! It looks almost real!
Yep, definitely a fake skeleton.
Thor: Why would there be rain in this mythical space? Thor cannot fish in such weather! The cod I could be catching -
Alberta: I told you not to get him started.
In the meantime, rain and even a lack of pants doesn't deter some of the ghosts.
Trevor: A fudgiscle! Man, what I wouldn't give for one of those...
Sass: This game is making me hungry....hey, Sam, can we have a pizza to smell tonight?
Thor: Seems game is not always correct...Trevor never wins 'Rock, Paper, Scissors' in real life.
Trevor: I swear, it makes no damn sense. How do you always know.
Thor: That is secret.
Is this more accurate?
Thor: Hahaha, small man would never dare such move against Thor.
Um, Alberta? That's uh...not safe.
Alberta: This ain't real, Jay, and these microwaves...damn, you modern people don't know how good you got it!
Alberta: I mean, look at this convenience! In my time it would have taken like half a day to get a dinner like this!
Well, I'll pass on your compliments to Swanson's.
Oh God, what are you planning now, No Pants?
Trevor: Wouldn't you like to know?
I don't think I do, to be honest...
Flower: Eee buttefly chasing! My favourite thing!!
Thor: And Flower doesn't even need to worry about boundary now.
Flower: I'm supposed to worry about a boundary?
Thor *groan*
Trevor: Cool, horses!
Looks like the feeling isn't mutual.
Trevor: Wow, you've been fishing all day, Big Guy?
Thor: A whole day is nothing to Thor, Thor once spent two days fishing for a much spoken of and legendary cod, it is all colours of the rainbow and is longer than -
Alberta: Just walk away, Jay and come back in an hour or two...he should be finished by then.
Trevor: Broooooo!
Thor: Broooooo!
Well, that's something you don't see every day...a Viking and a Wall Street broker doing shakkas at each other.
Alberta: Jay, you nailed it! Here I am lookin' ready to paint the town red! Starting with a drink at this speakeasy!
Isaac: sigh I am feeling isolated and unfulfilled, there's no Samantha in this game to write my story.
Well, you know, you can write your own story in this.
Isaac: What? Why didn't you say so?! Fetch me a quill and all the parchment you can afford!
Yeah, that's really not necessary, you just need a typewriter or a computer.
Isaac: Right! Lead me to it!
Trevor: Hey nothing to see here..
Isaac: What are you talking about, you've got one of those typewriters!
Trevor: Yeah, but...this is a secret room....which you guys don't know about.
Isaac: I have never actually seen that room before, what do you do in there?
Hetty: Never you mind.
Here's an interesting development, Sass's simself rolled a want to be a sculptor so here we go.
Sass: You know, I wanted to be a storyteller...but being able to create art that will last for eons...sounds good to me!
Thor: Meanwhile, Thor has decided to keep cod and other fish to admire. Also eat if famine occur.
Righty-oh, good thinking.
On that note, we'll leave our ghostly pals for now. What hijinks will they get up to next time? Stay tuned!
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Soothing Darkness - Azriel X reader fanfic
Chapter 4
Summery: The dreaded shopping trip has arrived. Y/N and the others pick out the right dresses to wear to to the ball and the start of the ball begins.
Warnings: none
AN: eeeekkk I love how this chapter ends. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing. Please let me know your thoughts! ❤️
Chapter 1
---
You sat in the warm water, letting it soak into your bones. Training had been intense that morning and you swore you had never sweated so much in your entire life. You seemed to catch the hint of amusement in Azriel’s eyes as you tried desperately to catch your breath after every exercise. You mentally scowled at him and carried on.
You had half an hour before 2pm. Half an hour before your shopping trip with Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn. You tried to get out of it when you saw them at training that morning.
“Did you get my note?” Gwyn had asked when you landed at the training rings.
“Yes, I don’t think I can make it” you made your best fake upset face. “I can’t close the shop and….”.
“Of course you can” Nesta cut you off. “I will compensate you for any losses made for shutting for the day” she offered you a devilish smile. You weren’t sure if Nesta could read minds but she certainly knew your game.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that” you had stated.
“You’re not asking. I’m telling” was all Nesta said. “We will be at yours for 2pm” she waved you off with her hand. That was the end of that.
You stared at the clock in the room. Twenty minutes until you had to go. The bath was beginning to turn cold so you heaved yourself out and began to get ready. It was the beginning of winter so you opted for a thick jumper and dark, skin tight trousers. You let your hair flow loosely down your back and grabbed a woollen hat and scarf to keep you warm.
You grabbed the small pile of money you had put to on top of your dresser last night. Telling yourself that this is going to be worth it as you placed it in your purse. Just as you began pulling your boots on, there was a knock at the door. The three females were huddled together on your doorstep as you opened the door. They all wore their coats with hats and scarves but the cold day had made their cheeks and noses rosey red.
“I told you she wouldn’t make another excuse not to come” Nesta said as she looked you up and down. Taking in your winter attire. You blushed slightly at the comment. Was it that obvious that you didn’t want to go?
“I made you guys these for the trip” you brushed off the comment and handed them each a small paper bag with a cinnamon swirl in.
“Oh they are still warm, thank you” Gwyn straight away tucked into hers. Humming with delight as she ate.
The four of you made your way through the town of Velaris. The city was full of life as people already began decorating their, shops, houses and even the streets with winter solstice decorations. Lights shone brightly over each building, making the rainbow come alive with even more colour. If that was even possible.
“In here” Nesta brought you all to a large shop in the city centre. It had a beautifully decorated shop window. With gowns and suites of all shapes and sizes. She entered the shop, setting off the small bell over the top of the door. You followed inside and gathered in the front room, basking in the heat of the shop.
Looking around you could see dresses made in what seemed like every colour for every occasion. A small desk situated at the back of the front room had a small fae female stood behind. She peered over the desk and spotted Nesta. She was only small, standing at just under 5ft.
“Hello Nesta” she purred. “I have a room ready in the back for you girls. You are just on time” the small female took the four of us through to a back room where a large mirror stood, white sofas were situated around it. There were smaller changing rooms attached to the large back room. You drank in the whole space.
“Who will be going first?” the small fae shopkeeper asked. “Whatever you need, you will find it here. Even with those wings” she nodded to Emerie who smiled from ear to ear.
Everyone took it in turns to find the right outfit for the ball. Nesta went first. Trying on at least a dozen different dresses. All of which looked absolutely stunning on her. The fae female was happy to comply as she pulled out more and more dresses that she deemed would suit their figures.
Nesta decided to go with a black floor-length dress with long sleeves and a very low v-neckline. It dropped almost to her navel. The dress shimmered against the bright lights in the room. Gwyn went next, only trying on two dresses and decided to go with the first. It was a light blue to match her usual priestess’s cloak. It was classy and elegant, hugging all her features without showing off too much skin.
Emerie tried on a handful of dresses and decided to go with the emerald green, lace cut dress. It fit round her wings perfectly with a slight slit up the dress to show off her long smooth legs. You had sat contently, watching as each of them tried on the array of dresses. Giving your opinions when asked and sipping on the coffee the fae had provided.
“Last but not least” the female turned to you with her unblinking gaze. You sunk deeper into the sofa, wishing it would swallow you whole.
“Go on Y/N” Nesta elbowed you hard in the ribs. You scowled at her, but she narrowed her eyes at you. Daring you to not do as you were told. You felt like a child in trouble, so you pushed yourself out of the sofa and followed the fae to the changing rooms.
She had brought an array of dresses through that she thought would complement your figure. Each more extravagant than the last. You picked through them and tried them on but none of them seemed to look good on you. The others had looked so stunning in each of their dresses, but you couldn’t help feeling like the ugly duckling.
One made you look lumpy. The others colour drowned you out and the bright yellow one, was not even worth mentioning.
“Don’t worry. I am determined to find you the right dress” the little female went on a hunt through the many rooms which seemed to store hundreds of dresses. You slumped back into your previous position on the sofa, feeling slightly deflated. Even if you found the right dress, you wouldn’t be able to afford it from somewhere like this. It was all pointless.
“The second one wasn’t too bad” Emerie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. But the half hearted smile she gave you, told you otherwise.
“I found it” the small female shouted from another room. “Come through deary” you heaved yourself off the sofa once again and made your way into the changing room.
As soon as you were in the changing room she held the dress out for you to look at. Just like the others it looked beautiful, like something from a fairy tale book you had once read. It was cobalt blue and twinkled like starlight, over its smooth fabric. You stepped into the dress and the female helped you button the back.
Tentatively, you stepped out into the large room where the others were waiting for the eighteenth time today. Your shoulders were slumped as you made your way over to look at yourself in the large mirror. Gwyn and Emerie gasped as you walked out. It couldn’t possibly be that bad, could it?
You dared to look in the mirror and almost replicated their reaction. The dress hugged your figure perfectly. It had a love heart neckline, which accentuated your breasts and shaped them. It’s off the shoulder sleeves fell lightly on your upper arms, allowing for your chest and neck to be bare. It hung close to your upper body, framing your figure over your waist and hips. Falling loosely from your hips to the floor. It’s colour and the way it sparkled in the bright lights, brought out the colour in your eyes and complimented your complexion perfectly.
You gawked at the way this dress made you look. There wasn’t a time in your life where you had worn something that made you look beautiful. It was a change from your usual training clothes or flour covered apron. You stood taller, straightening your spine and raised your chin. It was like looking at a different person. You took in the full image, the newness of your toned body, thanks to the training.
“She will take it” Nesta walked around you with a smug smile on her face. Suddenly your heard stopped dead in your chest.
“Nesta, there is no way I can afford this dress” your voice barley above a whisper as you looked at the others in the room, hoping they hadn’t overheard you. Eyes pleading with Nesta no to make you buy it.
“You didn’t expect me to force you into shopping and then make you pay, did you?” the question hung in the air. You furrowed your brows in confusion which only made Nesta smirk. “The dress is on me and don’t even attempt to argue with me. You won’t win” she shrugged but her voice was laced with grit.
“Thank you” you smiled. Your heart melted slightly at the gesture and you glanced back at the mirror once again.
“You look stunning” Nesta said, looking at you through the mirror. You beamed from ear to ear, feeling tears sting your eyes but you swallowed them down.
You left the shop after Nesta had paid for all four dresses. The cold hitting you like an ice blast after the warm heated shop. You couldn’t thank Nesta enough for the dress as you walked through the busy city centre. There were still another couple of shops they informed you, that you would be visiting before returning home.
“You need shoes at least” Nesta crossed her arms over her chest as you exited the third jewellery shop. You had point blank refused to let her buy you anything else. Never mind the diamond necklace and matching earing set, which she tried to convince you would go perfectly with the dress.
“I have shoes” you rolled your eyes.
“Not ones that would go with that dress” she blew out a hot breath.
“You don’t know that” you shook your head.
“I –“ she paused, you could see her mind working to try find a comeback. “I don’t care, I’m buying you shoes” she pulled the three of you into a little shoe shop and picked out pairs for each of you. You knew she wouldn’t let you go home until she had at least bought you shoes to match the dress.
Once you had a beautiful pair of black stilettoes to go with your dress and the others had all they needed, you returned home. You plied each of them with a couple more pastries before they waved you farewell.
You hung the dress up and stared at it, placing the black shoes below it and imagining what you would look like once you were ready for the ball. The dread you had felt before was changed into excitement as you felt the fabric between your fingers. After you got your fill of staring at the beautiful gown you grabbed the money from your purse and stashed it back into your safe.
It turned out that you had really enjoyed the shopping trip. Not just because you came away with the outfit but because you hadn’t felt lonely. The day had been spent chatting, laughing and being in the company of people you might dare to call friends. How your life has changed in the last month.
~~
The rest of the week seemed to go by painfully slow. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this excited for something and time seemed to drag as you approached the day of the ball.
Training took your mind off it for a while, you were only able to concentrate on your exercises. Each time your mind wondered slightly you found your ass back in the dirt. Gaining a stern glance from Azriel in return. Nesta invited you to have lunch with them each day after training. You spoke about how you were going to wear your hair or what preparations you would make for the day. Cassian would moan and take his dinner to eat elsewhere while we all ‘gossed’ as he called it.
The afternoons were painfully long. Especially when you have spent the best part of an hour sat talking with your friends. The shop was still quiet as usual, so you sat on your stool, reading whatever books Nesta or Emerie had loaned you. Occasionally helping a customer.
Each night you would sit in bed staring at the dress hung up at the other end of your room, you had only tried it on once more since you had brought it home. It took your breath away, just as it had done the first time. It was the night before the ball, you had decided that day how you were going to ware your hair. You pieced the image together and smiled at the thought before forcing your body and mind to rest.
~~
It was 3pm and you sat in your shop counting down the minutes till closing. Nesta had told you to be ready to be picked up at 7pm. That gave you four hours to wait. Your usual customers had already been in for the day, so you sat tapping your fingers on the counter in front of you. Even your book didn’t distract you from the ticking clock on the wall.
You watched as the clock slowly ticked by until it reached half past. The street outside was quiet as you paced around the shop. Trying to find something to busy yourself with. You had already cleaned three times but you couldn’t sit still.
“That’s it” you tutted. There weren’t any signs of more customers coming so you decided shutting the shop an hour early wouldn’t harm anyone. You locked the front door and shut the blinds before making your way up the stairs to your apartment.
You set a hot bath running as you ate a small plate of food. Nesta informed you that there would be small bites to eat but to eat at the party but to eat a full meal beforehand. You finished the last of your food before submerging in the warm water. Steam rose from the small bathtub as you scrubbed yourself clean and washed your hair.
You didn’t sit and relax for long before you stepped out into the cold air and wrapped yourself in a towel. You combed through your now washed and silky hair and left it to dry as you applied small amounts of makeup to your face.
Once your hair had dried. You tied it in a half up half down hair style that Nesta had taught you. She said that it was the one that suited you the most with your neckline. It took you a couple of attempts to get it right but once you did, it sat neatly on top of your head as the rest of your hair fell in loose curls down your back.
It was 6:15 once you had finished with your hair. You poured yourself a glass of wine and sipped from the glass as you once again found yourself staring at the gown hung up in your room. You willed your body to calm down. A mix of emotions now leaving you tense. You were excited, finally able to show the dress off but nervous. There was going to be a lot of people at the party, and you only knew a handful of them. You took a large gulp of wine, seeking the liquid courage it may offer you.
At quarter to seven, you finally stepped into the gown. It fit like a glove as its soft fabric hugged your skin. You placed the black heels on before stepping in front of your small mirror. Taking deep breaths, you gazed at the image of you in the mirror and smiled. Actually smiled. You looked out of your window and up to the stars that graced the black sky above.
“I can feel you with me” you whispered to the stars. Hoping that your mother, wherever she was could hear you. You grabbed a small velvet box from your draws. Inside were a pair of your mother’s favourite silver earrings. You carefully placed one in each of your ears as a knock sounded loudly at the front door.
Cassian was never one for hanging about which made you chuckle slightly. You glanced one last time in the mirror, nodding your approval before heading downstairs and towards the front door. The winged silhouette dominated the small doorframe behind the frosted glass. You opened the door to find that Cassian wasn’t behind it.
His hazel eyes met yours as your breath hitched in your throat. He wore a black fitted suit that incorporated his membranous wings that were now held tensely behind him. His siphons still sat upon each hand and his shadows curled around his neck. It took you a second to drink him in, he was the picture of pure beauty.
“You look….” He let his eyes wonder over you. Heat rose throughout your body at the path his eyes travelled up and down you. His eyes roamed down to the dress that hugged your figure, lingering slightly at your bare neck before looking back into your eyes. His throat bobbed slightly before he said “stunning”. Azriel held eye contact with you as your stomach flipped and cheeks blushed.
“You too” you stumbled for words, and they came out in a timid squeak after realising you hadn’t said anything.
Idiot. You mentally scolded yourself.
His mouth twitched upwards as he pulled out a small box from the shadows curling around his hand. “I was instructed to give you this” he held it out for you to take. You carefully took the box and opened it.
“Nesta” you gasped. The box held the diamond necklace that you had forbidden Nesta from buying you at the beginning of the week. It shone like a thousand stars in the moonlight as you stared at it open mouthed.
“I was told, rather specifically, to say that you have to wear it tonight” you opened your mouth to speak but Azriel raised his hand to silence you. “No excuses” he smirked and you smiled back at him. Carefully, you took the necklace out of the box and held it up to inspect it closer. It had a very small clasp that you knew would take you a while to work.
“Do you mind?” you held out the necklace to Azriel. He hesitated before taking the necklace gently from your hand.
You turned around and swept your hair out of the way so he could access you neck easier. The cold night on your bare skin sent a small shiver down your spine. You felt Azriel approach your back, his body radiating heat onto yours as he was barley an inch away. You swallowed hard as he slowly placed the necklace around your neck. His warm, soft hands brushed against your skin as he fastened the clasp.
You swallowed hard as you felt the caress of his hot breath just below your ear. You told yourself you were imagining it but you felt his breathing stammer slightly as he worked the clasp at the back of your neck. He finished with the clasp, but his fingers lingered slightly causing your skin to heat up. Your heart was pounding hard as he seemed to wait for you to move away first, but your feet were locked in place. There was no doubt in your mind, that he couldn’t hear the roaring in your chest at the close proximity of his body to yours. The touch of his hand on your skin. Even his shadows seemed to circle around you, pulling you into their warm darkness.
Time seemed to slow down as the two of you remained in place, waiting for the other to make the next move. A males voice suddenly shook you back to reality. He had just stumbled out of a bar and was singing a merry tune as he wondered down the cobbled street. You cleared your throat, finding your legs now had movement in them as you took a step from Azriel. Turning on the spot and instantly missing his warmth.
“What do you think?” you gestured to the necklace that now laced your neck delicately. His face was unreadable when you finally braved to look at him. His shadows returned to him swiftly as he held your gaze. It took him a couple seconds to think before he said in his soft deep voice.
“Almost as beautiful as the wearer” he bowed his head to you. Your knees nearly buckled at the compliment. “Are you ready?” he asked, holding his had for you to take.
You nodded, taking his scared hand in yours. His shadows began to circle around you until there was nothing but darkness.
Chapter 5
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at this point I’m not above begging the old gods for a tbhtbh update and I’m sure as hell not above begging you so please please-
(At least a snippet???)
okay so there’s a whole bunch of asks in my inbox asking for a snippet and I keep putting it off to answer them, because surely I should answer them when I actually have written on? And surely that’s gonna be soon, right?? Right????? But now it’s been months and I’m haunted by all the nice words and funny jokes and cool asks that I never answered because UGH my brain hAS NOT DELIVERED and I didn’t want to show up empty handed, u know? my anxiety is building and my time to write is shrinking and I am A Mess, BUT!!! I’ve also decided to say fuck it and just throw out the stuff I’ve ignored for a good few weeks. So at everyone whose asks I’ve ignored, please know that I am tormented by shame and adhd in equal measures, a never-ending cycle of horror and procrastination.
Anyway. Magix City my beloved!!!
His roar of fury follows her into the hallway, but she doesn’t slow down. Her one chance, her final chance, is now. She knows from Darcy herself that the witch isn’t scrying for her when she’s with Valtor, and she knows from Stormy that the handcuffs’ lifetime is dependent on how strong the captive is. Right now, Valtor is much, much more powerful than her.
She’s paced these corridors for days, weeks. She has gotten lost, confused, and distracted in these hallways, but she has also grown familiar. And now, tonight, it all pays off.
She finds the way. Finds the portal. Far behind her she can hear Valtor call her name, can feel the bond surging with regained magic as he gives chase, and she knows that her window is closing.
Those last few meters feel like eternity. Any moment his hand will close around her shirt, her arm, her neck; any moment she will be torn back and everything will be over. She thinks of Stella, of Flora, of all her friends and how they’d laughed at Alfea, strolled through the city. I’m coming, she thinks. I promise.
She can feel the building heat of a spell behind her.
But it’s too late.
She sets foot into the thin, glowing circle of the portal, and then there’s the blinding light of teleportation.
Just like that, she’s through. She’s out.
The brilliant magic of the portal plucks her from the cold, pale sphere that is Domino, catapults her through thousands of lightyears of space, and spits her out on black asphalt.
She fails to catch her fall, her momentum causing her to roll over her shoulder and bruise her knees on the rough ground. When she comes to a stop, her palms are scratched open and there’s a little bit of blood running down her shins. She hisses in pain and tears her hair back, looking around, preparing to fight off whoever comes through after her.
But he doesn’t appear.
There’s only the dark, rain-wet street before her. Reflecting the colourful lights of the skyscrapers lining it, the streetlamps, the tail-lights of hovering cars zooming by. A rainbow of vibrant blues and purples and yellows, of red and pink and so, so many others. Neon signs and brightened windows cutting through the cloudy night sky, still roiling with the promise of rain.
Magix City. She’s in Magix City.
She’s home.
A wave of sound crashes down on her and she falls right back onto her scraped knees, too stunned to cover her ears. After the long, unnatural silence of Domino, everything is so loud. Angry, beeping horns of cars in the distance, engines whining and roaring, the pitter-patter of a million steps as people mill about on the sidewalks, heeled shoes against wet stone. A prism full of colors in just their clothes, their hair, their faces as they stream by.
Even at night Magix is a bustling metropolis, full of life and noise and light.
She’s assaulted by so many impressions all at once she feels like she might go blind and deaf from it, and still she can’t look away. Three years she hasn’t been here. Almost four, now.
It’s so, so beautiful. In that shrill, dazzling, vibrant way only Magix can be. She feels just like she did then, when she’d first set foot into its labyrinthine, multilayered streets. Like she is on the cusp of something new, something chaotic and magical. Limitless and never-ending, never-resting.
Freedom. She’s free.
A blaring horn snaps her back to the present, and she whirls around only to shield her eyes from the blinding headlights of a car. Someone’s yelling for her to get up, get off the street, are you insane? She jumps to her feet and realizes that she’s in the middle of the road, in her pajamas, and cars have had to hit the brakes or they would have run her over.
Adrenaline hot in her veins, she stumbles back towards the sidewalk, looking around. People have stopped walking and are pointing at her, some talking to each other behind raised hands. Some look worried, some are snickering, and some look alarmed. Shocked.
She remembers that her picture had been plastered across screens and billboards for years, combined with a shady excuse and a bounty that no sane person could have spent in their entire lifetime.
And that Magix is crawling with Valtor’s marks.
No sooner had she finished the thought than she feels the gaze of dozens of eyes snap to her, all at once. Faces in the crowd turning towards her as if magnetized, their eerie synchrony sending goosebumps down her spine.
There’s no life in their stare. Because they’re not the ones looking.
She doesn’t wait for them to come any closer. She ducks her head and starts sprinting, slipping through the gaps in the crowd like a fish against the current. From the corners of her eyes she can see them start to move, to follow her, and her thundering heartbeat seems to choke her in her throat. She hasn’t thought this through at all, there’s a reason she never returned here with Stella. But the only thing on her mind when she’d stepped through that portal had been her friends, how happy they’d been, and the magical gateway had dropped her at the closest match to that nebulous feeling it could find. In the middle of a street, at the heart of this city they had loved.
And now Valtor knows she’s here.
A hand snatches her wrist, and another grabs her hair, marks swarming towards her from all corners of the city. She cries out in pain and hears people start to shout in confusion, but even if they wanted to risk helping her, they wouldn’t have the power to get through the mind-controlled puppets.
But she does, she remembers as the marks try to pull her back, push her down.
A blaze of light and she is bursting free, fluttering wings carrying her up above them and the crowd. Glittering cyan settling on her skin, golden tiara flashing in her hair, and if there had been any doubts in anyone as to who she is, they are now shown irrefutable proof.
#i have so many feelings about magix city and im frankly underutilizing it in every fic i write#asks#fic: to be hunted to be haunted#the copy pasting from my notes app has sadly robbed it of its italics#but whatever#winx club#maybe now I’ll be able to answer all the other asks without cringing with embarrassment for my procrastination#I’m pretty busy with the internship until autumn but I hope I’ll get some writing done until then
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To Fly Once More
HI GUYS!!! LOOK AT ME!!! TWO FICS WITHIN THE SAME WEEK?! HELLO!?
So super super short one and definitely not with characters you thought you’d be reading about today so WOOOO FOR SURPRISES! Literally just wanted to write this even if its a bit generic so hope you all enjoy!!!
cw: past trauma, minor gore details (ripped wing), fluff, minor romance, happy endings. She’s just fluff peeps. Just fluff :3
wc: 1391
Phil hasn't been able to fly for a long time.
His wing was badly injured to the point it was beyond repair. Trying to adjust for survival had been the worst experience of his life. As they say:
A downed bird is a dead bird.
But Phil was more than just his avian roots.
He'd survive.
Even if it meant stealing from humans, he'd make it.
Humans were terrifying. They were greedy, selfish but above all unpredictable; but when he’d had his wings, the adrenaline rush of living so close to them had been thrilling. While he’d had his wings, he’d flown from his humble forest abode, to the small neighbourhood of Essempi street, watching and getting to know its residents.
There were these 3 roommates at the east end of Essempi that would always be rough housing whenever given the chance at one end, with a boy who loved to dress in a flourish of rainbow colours and hoodies that hung out with the fiery one a lot next door. Across the street, a man known for his expertise in gambling and iconic blue beanie. He liked to pinch whatever shiny items he could when they did outdoor poker night. Which was funny when they’d get accused for cheating (because they had been, just not with the shinies :)
At the opposite end, a pink haired girl and a white haired one lived together, their home always emitting heavenly smells of home baked goods. And across the street from them, a man who wore blue and red shades that would often be around stealing taste testing the pies. Phil tried to only ever take what he would need from them, but sometimes he couldn’t help but take a whole cupcake.
And then of course there was the middle of the street, which homed 3 rather loud occupants and their mother.
The brunette was the most talented musician he’d ever heard, the pinkette skilled in the art of the sword in a way that he himself would never match with his needle, and the youngest of the 3 was wild blonde child, who's energy and clingy nature made him endearing despite their loudness.
But his favourite was the mother.
Hair a dark brown and looked as soft as clouds, dressed in purples that accentuated her warm hazel eyes and a kindness that could rival no other, Phil loved her. Unlike her 3 sons, she was gentle and cared for those around her with such grace. Out of every human on the street of Essempi, Kristen was the only one he would ever feel at ease with.
And the only human that knew of his existence.
While the rest of the street of Essempi were aware of ‘something’ that would take their belongings, Kristen was the only one who knew what it was that had; the human happening to catch a glance at him in her garden one day.
She’d never chased him, or demanded he show himself, simply talked and offered him a bite to eat before he went on his way. And Phil had accepted the offer. Albeit it from a distance, but Kristen met her little black bird, and Phil his human giant.
It became routine.
Every Tuesday, in the mid morning sun, Kristen would go out to her garden with a small plate and set it on one of the lower branches of the tree for Phil to perch. With her 3 boys at school, the two would chat and bask in each other's company, speaking of whatever came to mind. Kristen sharing of her work and boys, and Phil sharing of his day to day life in the forest and around Essempi street.
Or they had, until that fateful day.
He’d been attacked by a falcon and in his attempt to break free, had his right wing in shred in half, leaving feathers askew, bones exposed and blood gushing as he plummeted down to earth for his demise.
Somehow he’d managed to survive, his memory from being in the air and between just immense pain was all but a blur, but he had lived.
But to continue living? How would that be so?
He came to Essempi Street for supplies and the rush to not get caught, but he lived far off in the forest, through dense foliage and over rivers. And he had nose dived into a ditch, on the outskirts where the forest met the quaint street.
To journey home in his current state would spell imminent death.
So he took his only option, and moved into the garden of his favourite residents.
That first week had been agonisingly painful. Adjusting to not only getting around on foot, but coming to the realisation he would never fly again. It had been his whole life, his freedom, and now what was left of his wings was but a heavy reminder of the life he’d led. Getting food became even harder, resulting in him taking far more than he would normally from the humans’ garden just to avoid over exerting energy to get there.
He was in so much pain, it wouldn’t be long before he either died from the poor job at patching his wing, or from some wild animal getting themselves a free meal. He was sure he was done for.
Until Kristin had found him.
The human had been worried about him when he’d missed their usual catch up, but figured he may have been busy. That was until she found the small scattered feathers and trails of dried blood a few days later, leading to a hole inside the garden shed where she had inevitably found the small avian, curled up in a sorry excuse for a nest in his broken state.
She was the one who had taken him into her home and patched him up.
She was the one who gave him a new chance at life.
And she was the one giving him the chance to fly again.
“Are you sure this will be okay?” He’d asked hesitantly.
It had been almost a year since that fateful day and Phil now knew the Crafts through and through. Wilbur, Technoblade and Tommy had been infatuated with the small avian and quickly he and the 3 boys were acting as if they’d known him their whole life.
And Kristin? The two had fallen for each other, and their relationship had only blossomed. She was the first human he had ever fully willingly gone to and been touched by. The first he ever allowed to get so close and know about his whole world. A world that had become the entire human womans being. A bond formed of love and trust. Which led to now, an act of kindness that the love of his life had been planning for months.
He was going to fly again.
Though this was his deepest desire, the phantom feeling of talons ripping his wings to have him falling to his doom ached at his back.
“I’ve been designing this and practicing for months Phil.” Kristen spoke softly. “I promise it will be fine and even if it's not, I’ll be here to catch you.”
Phil smiled up at the human from where he sat in her cupped hand. Kristen would never let him fall.
“Are you ready my love?”
Phil took a deep breath and nodded, a strong conviction in his gaze.
“Let's do this.”
Kristen slowly maneuvered Phil into the small seat and placed the little harness over himself. Kristen gently placed the carrier down and walked forward and away from Phil holding a thin piece of string.
“Hold on tight.”
As Kristen ran forward, Phil gripped the carrier, eyes squeezed tightly shut, as he felt the whole thing lift up and into the air. Air rushed around him and he could feel the shift as he went up higher and higher.
“YOU DID IT PHIL! YOU DID IT!!” Kristen called from somewhere down below.
Hesitantly, he peaked an eye open before opening both wide in awe.
He was high above the ground, clouds almost in reach as he glided across the sky in his carrier kite.
He laughed, joyful tears beginning to slowly trail down his face as he slowly lifted his arms from the carrier to spread them out wide in delight.
He was flying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And bada bing bada boom! All done! See? Fluffy!!!
Thanks for reading to the end and I hope you enjoyed! Really liked writing this one and I can’t believe I wrote this at work. Like seriously, I love this job so much already and its only been 3 days!!!
Not sure when the next fic will be out but if you’ve seen my blog, you may have seen the an announcement about a fic on the way. What could it be? Who knows... 👀
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Tag list: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker
Love all my tagged so much 🍭❤️🍭❤️🍭❤️
Don’t want to miss the next story? Comment on the Tag list here
#beckyu writes#beckyu but on ao3#my writing#My fic#avian!philza#tiny!philza#tiny avian!philza#human!kristin#giant!kristin#t!philza#g!kristin#mcyt gt#mcyt g/t#dsmp gt#dsmp g/t#mcyt gt community#mcyt g/t community#giant tiny#gt#g/t#gt writing#g/t writing#just a fun fluffy one <3#I love it so much and to just break away from crime boys of sbi content briefly was refreshing#Hope you like it as much as I do <3
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for the ask thingy: 🥰 and 📝?
🥰 a piece i’m really proud of and why
Another that I'm really proud of is Beautiful, Strange and New! I'd never written a single thing that long or that complex before, with a single narrative thread throughout, so it was such an amazing feeling when it was done.
📝 a line or paragraph i’m really happy with
I really liked the description of the neon signs reflecting off of puddles in Bloodhound!
This late, and with the rain this bad, there's almost no one else out. London is a cat all curled up before the hearth, tail twitching, banked motion. All it would take is one thing – a fire, a robbery, a thunderstorm – and it would leap to life again, but for now it sleeps. Neon flickers in the puddles on the pavement, rainbow fish streaking in and out of view, interrupted by the thud of Hob's shoe and sending the colours scattering. He stops, swaying, hypnotised by the leap of red, the spit and fizz of the rain on the gas-discharge tubes. He remembers when neon signs became a thing. He remembers when electric lights were installed on Mosley Street. He'd taken the train out to Newcastle-on-Tyne just to see them lay the wires, and again when they'd turned the whole mess on. Let there be light, he'd thought. Not an original thought, but he'd had it, and he reckons if anyone has the right to have it, it would've been him.
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What Each G3 Pony Thinks of Scarecrow
Scootaloo: HES THE BEST!! He’s super scary, super smart, super cool and just SUPER EVERYTHING! I was the only pony out of my friends who liked scary stuff so I’m so psyched to have a friend I have something in common with! And to think this all started from me making a wish for a live scarecrow. We both try to scare people on the street which is really easy for me cos for some reason, I scare everyone in Gotham. Mr Crane says it’s because they can’t comprehend talking ponies. Weird. Anyway, Mr Crane may be a grump, but I bet having seven ponies to look after must be pretty hard. He always makes time for me though! He says I’m his no 1 henchpony and calls me Ragnarök! Which means natural disasters or something. Either way it’s cool! He’s the best boss ever and I hope he likes this new butterfly bomb I came up with!
Cheerilee: I thought he was a stinky old man at first, but we’ve got a lot more in common than I thought! For a scarecrow, he’s actually very smart! Which is strange, cos I thought scarecrows have no brains. Well, that shows what I know! Mr Crane has taught me loads of subjects like psychology, complex math and biology. Ponyville’s library doesn’t have any knowledge like this. It is a little hard to wrap my head around at times but it is worth it to rub it in Scoot’s face hehe. Mr Crane would make a very good teacher, if he didn’t look like a stitched up skeleton
Rainbow Dash: I know he doesn’t get my love of fashion and that’s totes understandable. He’s old. I mean have you SEEN that cloak?! Major frump alert! And pee-uw! does his breath stink! But he’s cool, as long as you don’t put him in a bad mood. But that won’t stop me from putting him in a dress! He is long overdue for a makeover!
Pinkie Pie: I don’t know if he’s our boss or our dad but either way, it’s nice to have someone to look up to. I may be the leader of my friends, but Im still a pony. So I can always rely on Mr Crane for advice. But he has a very weird sense of what’s right and wrong and I’m gonna criticise the heck out of that! I’ve never seen Mr Crane laugh, but when he does, it’s nice to see! But he’s never happy regularly when he’s around us. Sometimes I don’t know if he likes us very much… I try to cheer him up with a surprise party, but Mr Crane doesn’t like parties. Says they’re too loud. Doesn’t like the colour pink either. He does save us from Riddler’s bullying and protects us from people in Gotham throwing stuff at us, he’s very polite and says he “likes” us. So thats good!
Sweetie Belle: He can be a bit mean and grumpy but I think he’s very nice deep down. After all, he gives us toys, trips to the funfair and ice cream if we’re good! He also gave us such funny nicknames! I’m Pesticide! It’s also funny how he struggles to say our normal names without making a grumpy face! Haha Mr Crane is the funniest boss ever! Although I don’t get his whole scaring people thing with fear. I’m pretty sure he can scare people with how he looks already
Toola Roola: Its amazing how a scarecrow can be both magic and be really smart! He looks very scary but I guess that’s his job, isn’t it? And it kinda makes sense where he comes from. Gotham is a very gloomy place. Aw, I bet he misses it a little after being in Ponyville for so long. Maybe I’ll paint him a nice graveyard with lots of crows on it. That’ll cheer him up!
Starsong: You can tell he’s an old man cos he doesn’t know what TikTok is. Although it is so worth it cos his dancing is so silly, heehee! Good thing our babysitter whenever we visit Gotham, Barbara Gordon, knows all about TikTok and loves our dances! She has a beautiful singing voice! Oh yeah, we were talking about Mr Crane. Well, the only dancing he likes is the St Vitus’ dance. Why would a dance be named after a saint? That doesn’t sound very groovy…Mr Crane’s really weird.
Here is part 1.
#batman#crossover#g3 mlp#mlp g3.5#starsong#g3 rainbow dash#g3 scootaloo#g3 pinkie pie#toola roola#g3 cheerilee#cheerilee#g3 sweetie belle#sweetie belle#arkham scarecrow#arkham knight#niche crossover#midnight ramblings#stuff I literally just wrote now and I’m tired#jonathan crane#the scarecrow
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The Crows at a birthday party 🎂
because its my birthday so let me pretend im the “birthday kid” and the crows came to my birthday party yes ik im stuck in my fantasies shush
Kaz:
“I have better things to do” omg kaz brekker came
He’s just standing there like 🧍♂️ and someone even thought he went to the wrong party “sir- excuse me but i think the goth party is down the street.” and he just glares.
I mean if it were a dark emo themed birthday party filled with edgy teens he’d fit right in because he just stands in the corner and watches. BUT IT’S A COLOURFUL FUN HAPPY THEMED FILLED WITH RAINBOWS AND MAGIC SO HE DEFINITELY DOESN’T LOOK LIKE HE B-
“Kaz you look like you’re attending a funeral. This is a birthday party.”
“What, you want me to dress up as a magician and pull a rabbit out of my hat??”
So that’s how Kaz Brekker ends up in a magician’s outfit in front of all the children. Because Inej so ever lovingly asked him to. We all love Inej.
Just imagine a frown on Kaz while he says “abracadabra.” Just imagine the look on the children’s face like :
Inej:
It reminds her of her childhood birthday parties where everyone was invited to her birthday. She’ll admit it causes her to be slightly emotional.
She gives the birthday kid a present with the warmest smile. Which is obviously deceiving because if someone gave me a present with the warmest smile ever causing me to melt, I’d think it would be a cute doll she gave me that she made herself and not a sharp dagger ENCRUSTED WITH RUBIES.
“Make sure to name it” she says as she winks at the kid. FVHDYDYCUBJBUCDFXGXUCU
She spends the rest of the time with all the children, playing with them. She is the reason the party feels so warm and friendly and happy. Ignore Kaz Brekker shhh we don’t talk about the iceberg in the Sahara desert.
Jesper:
“DID SOMEONE SAY PARTYYYYYY”
*brings alcohol*
“JESPER THIS IS A CHILD’S BIRTHDAY PARTY”
“oh”
I feel like he’d do random tricks with his gun due to boredom which would then intrigue the guests . Like- he’d get into the whole showman mood and stuff
*dramatic bowing*
Jesper even ends up stealing the spotlight from the birthday kid themselves LMAO. “It’s not my fault I’m good looking, dressed better AND eye-catching”
To be fair he dresses colorfully too. Perhaps it was intentional after all.
Jesper’s gift to the child would be nerf guns no shit
He’d shoot down the piñata too before anyone could hit it lmao-
Nina:
Waffle hoarder istg. Where is Nina? Oh she’ds just been chilling by the waffle stand for the past..2 hours from when the party started.
*Walks pass someone eating waffles* “Are you gonna finish that???”
Before this whole celebration started she already planned her outfit, wanting to be the best dressed. “Nina, this isn’t your party!” “AND???? YOU DON’T KNOW WHO YOU MIGHT MEET THERE!!!!” Nina hun, you look stunning.
In fact, she is dressed so well that someone thought it was a costume and asked her join the other cosplayers. “WH- I’M A GUEST NOT A WORKER”
Wylan:
The second he sees screaming children running around - “Why am I here?”
He’s also just standing there like 🧍♂️all confused. Ah like father like son except unlike Kaz just not emo dark intimidating looking
He’s never been to a birthday party so bear with him this is his first invite. I bet he asks a lot of questions - “You get cake for your birthday???” “TOYSSS AS PRESENTS???”
Yea sure he’s slightly jealous about the fact that he never experienced this during his childhood but it’s okay because he’s still having a good time. And also the Crows will throw him a big party for his birthday <3
Matthias:
Matthias would try his best. To not be a jerk. By judging everything. Because Little Red Bird said not to. Although he does at some point.
“In Fjerda….”
“When I was a child….”
Someone even thought Matthias one of the child’s parent. BECAUSE HE’S JUST STANDING THERE BLENDING IN WITH THE PARENTS JUDGING EVERYONE unlike Kaz because Kaz is judging everyone *FROM THE DARK CORNER*
“So which one is your child?” “I’m not a parent-“
Nina brings him cake and he directly questions it lol. “What is this..spongy texture?” “Relax druskelle!! I’m not trying to kill you.”
#grishaverse#leigh bardugo#six of crows#crooked kingdom#soc#ketterdam#ck#kaz brekker#freddy carter#inej ghafa#amita suman#kanej#matthias helvar#nina zenik#calahan skogman#danielle galligan#jesper fahey#wylan van eck#jack wolfe#kit young#incorrect quotes
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For the @stevetonygames 2023
Team Past
Square "Disguise"
Fairy Godmother fic for @oluka!
The prompt I used was: "Steve and Tony, on a day off, run into each other at a gay bar. Oops."
~~~
Among The People
~1.5k words
Summary:
It was Pride Month and it was his first one since he was thawed. Pride hadn’t even existed back in the 40’s, but he had heard about it on the news the other day and was immediately intrigued. Without the shield and suit, he was just a guy anyway. A gay guy.
You can read the story under the cut or on AO3. :)
Steve pulled his cowboy hat deeper as he moved through the crowd. He was also wearing a rainbow-coloured feather boa a guy had given him when he had entered the bar. Steve had never felt more out of place yet so part of a group as he looked around the room.
It was Pride Month and it was his first one since he was thawed. Pride hadn’t even existed back in the 40’s, but he had heard about it on the news the other day and was immediately intrigued. Without the shield and suit, he was just a guy anyway. A gay guy.
Steve had learnt not everything was rainbows and flowers for people like him now, but at least you wouldn’t have to deal with terrible consequences if someone saw you kissing a guy on the street. Especially in New York.
Steve was sitting at the bar, sipping a beer, and just took the whole – beautiful yet strange – situation in. People were drinking, playing pool or darts, and some were even dancing. Steve noticed how close everyone seemed with whoever they were spending their time with. How ordinary touches seemed.
“I saw you looking all hot and lonely over here. Wanna dance?” someone suddenly asked Steve and when he looked to the right he saw a black man in a rainbow-coloured tank top that hardly covered his chest next to him. He smiled brightly and offered his hand to Steve, not to shake it, but to take him to the dance floor.
With a quick glance around, Steve made a decision. He took the man’s hand, turned it around and gave it a quick kiss. The man laughed in surprise and Steve hoped he wouldn’t take his words personally when he finally said, “I don’t dance and I quite like my solitude right now, but I do appreciate the sentiment.”
“That’s alright, cowboy. I hope you’ll find whoever you’re looking for.”
“I’m not looking–“
“It’s Pride. Nobody should go home alone,” he said with a smile and patted Steve’s shoulder as he left.
Steve sighed and turned back to see the bartender sliding a clear drink towards him.
“I didn’t order that,” he said in confusion.
“It’s on the house. You look like you need something stronger than a beer,” the bartender said and winked at him.
“Thanks,” Steve said and held up his glass in salute before emptying it in one go. Vodka, his mind provided. It was sharp and minty and would not get him drunk like anything else he could order here.
“Can you give me another one of these, please?” he asked.
“Anything you want,” the bartender said and handed Steve another vodka.
He left it on the counter for later and watched the bartender for a while. It was mesmerizing seeing him mix cocktails while he talked to people.
“Hey handsome, would you mind company?” a man asked Steve from behind and then sat down next to him without waiting for an answer.
Then the man turned to him and while Steve couldn’t see his eyes through the colourful sunglasses, he could see how his eyebrows shot up in an instant.
“Steve?!”
“Hey Tony,” Steve said with a smile. “Surprised to see me here?”
“More surprised I didn’t recognize you from behind.”
“Have you been checking out my ass?” Steve asked and wanted to bite his tongue after. Did he really want to know the answer to that?
“All the time,” Tony said with a grin.
Steve rolled his eyes in amusement and then slid his vodka to Tony as a peace offering. Or maybe he just wanted Tony to stop talking about his butt. Tony took the vodka without a word and drank it.
Tony was sitting close to him and it made Steve feel more comfortable. He didn’t want them to be distanced from each other. He watched Tony move his sunglasses up into his hair and Steve was glad he could see his eyes. It was a lot easier for him to understand people like that. He also knew Tony liked to shield himself with his glasses.
“Happy Pride, by the way. How’s your first one going?” Tony asked and Steve could tell he was actually concerned about Steve not having a good time.
“It’s… nice. Really nice. Overwhelming and confusing, but yeah. Everyone seems so at ease with themselves, it helps me to keep calm.”
“I’m glad,” Tony said. “Would be a shame if your first impression was a bad one.”
“And yet your friend refused the offer to dance from a really handsome guy,” the bartender suddenly chimed in.
Steve glared at him and Tony laughed, “Yeah, he’s not the biggest fan of dancing.”
There was a gleam in his eyes Steve couldn’t place until Tony leaned so close to him, Steve could almost feel his breath on his cheek. He swallowed.
Then Tony asked, “Would you… not dance with me, but sway a little to the music? Very low pressure and commitment.”
And all Steve could do was nod.
“Perfect,” Tony said and it almost sounded like a purr.
He offered Steve his hand and this time, he took it and let Tony lead him to the middle of the room where a few other people were dancing already.
Steve and Tony didn’t dance. They simply swayed to the slow music, stayed close to each other and let their hands travel a little. Steve felt the sudden urge to kiss him, but held back. Not because he thought somebody would judge them, but because he didn’t want to share it with others. It was supposed to be a private moment.
Tony also seemed comfortable with the way they moved and what they were doing. Steve briefly wondered if Tony would care if someone recognized him. The answer was probably no, because he was a celebrity and used to that. As long as people still minded their own business, it was probably fine.
After a while, they went back to the bar and ordered a cocktail. They sat next to each other and one of Tony’s hands landed on Steve’s thigh. It was just a solid presence for a bit, but then Tony started stroking his hand slowly up and down, and Steve sighed, content. He truly enjoyed this.
They talked while drinking and Steve couldn’t imagine a better way to spend this night. Tony was a genius, superhero, and billionaire, but in this moment he was just a guy in a gay bar – Like everyone else in the room.
“Is there anything else you want from tonight?” Tony asked at some point and Steve swallowed. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to voice his wishes, but Tony made it very easy for him when he said, “I can only speak for myself, but I would love to take you home tonight.”
There was a foolish part of Steve that wanted to say We live together, but obviously that wasn’t what Tony had just put on the table. It was new and exciting and Steve wanted to keep this feeling for as long as he could.
“I want to kiss you,” Steve finally confessed and Tony immediately leaned in until Steve touched his chest and gently pushed him away. “But not here. Somewhere private. I don’t wanna share this with a bunch of random people.”
“Fine with me,” Tony said with a smile. “Then how about we go home now?”
“Sounds perfect,” Steve said and put a few bills on the counter to pay for the drinks. Tony did the same and Steve knew he was tipping the bartender really well, probably for telling him about Steve’s night without being asked.
On the way out, Steve spotted the guy from earlier who had asked him for a dance. The man winked at Steve and gave him an approving thumbs-up. Steve smiled at him and nodded, and noticed that the man had his arm slung around someone’s waist in a more than casual way. Nobody should go home alone, he remembered the man’s words.
They got into a cab and Tony gave the driver the address. Then he handed him a bunch of bills and said, “I’ll pay you again when we arrive if you leave us alone during the drive”. A nod was all Tony got before the driver started typing in the address.
A moment later, Steve had Tony’s entire attention again and the smile on his face made Steve’s heart beat a lot faster.
“I think you owe me a kiss,” Tony said, grinning.
“I think you’re right,” Steve grinned back.
Then Tony grabbed Steve by the feather boa around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t hesitate a single second before licking at Steve’s lips, coaxing him to open up for him. Steve happily complied and knew it would be a great ride home. Pride was truly a special occasion.
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Forgive and (not) Forget
[Jamison "Stena" Harmonics, Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda, & Emil "Fenrir" Svensson]
Summary: News of Fenrir's arrival after Brava's mission reached a certain bedridden Russian, and Kapkan invited the Swede to meet him coincidentally.
A/N: It took me several writer's blocks to finish this fic btw.
It’s been a few days since Fenrir was found during Brava’s mission.
Although he couldn’t see the whole interrogation of the Swedish chemist due to his bedridden state, Jamie managed to get Grace to hack a couple of CCTVs inside the interrogation room to check the situation without having to get up. The fee was enough to drain his wallet, but anything for his personal gain.
The first thing that he noticed was the pale skin, complemented by his long, messy hair, a colour as dark as charcoal, slicked back to make use of his eyesight. Dark bags under his clear blue eyes, slightly darker colour than Elias’ baby blue ones. Unfortunately, the bulky, tech-like upper suit that he’d been wearing hid most of his physique. He could’ve judged the overall mass of his body.
Harmless, that was his quick conclusion about this “Fenrir” guy. Just a guy who made some irreversible mistakes and is trying to redeem himself.
[He’s bad at judging people, but mistrust is costly, and he wouldn’t be able to extract the information himself if he kept his doubt at the moment. Well, as soon as he’s no longer in this stupid white cot, anyway.]
Maxim was kind enough to visit him daily, reporting to him about today’s training outcomes or gossiping about things that happened in the base. Sometimes, he sneaked in alcohol and got themselves drunk until the older Russian got chased out by one of Rainbow’s medical personnel, and he laughed it all out loud, definitely not sober.
[One time, he came into the room with blood draining from a large cut on the side of his head and claimed that a stray metal debris flew during a breaching simulation, and he wasn’t careful enough to avoid the shrapnel. When the older Russian saw how worried Jamie became, the stoic face softened and ruffled his hair. “I’ll be alright, Братан. Worry about your shattered legs first, okay?”]
Today, Maxim came a bit later than usual, still in his combat uniform. His face was still as stoic and unreadable as usual, but Jamie could feel slight tension coming from the older man. Should he probe him?
“It’s about Fenrir.” Maxim's rough voice almost startled him. “The American let him join Redhammer. Not little people like the decision.”
Fenrir. Right. The ex-Keres Legion. “Who? How much?”
The other took his seat at the usual place, a plastic armchair. The one that would break if you move too much. “The Arabics, minus the giant. The Italian girl as well.” He hummed. “I think that one too. What’s his name again? Jacky or something.”
“Jackal? Hell, even Ryad??” The Spaniard man was not the nicest around and could be quite snappy during trying times, but he was one of the people who helped him integrate into Rainbow. He’d seen that man talking to a body double of a mannequin while sipping his God-knows-how-much coffee at three in the morning, though.
Maxim leaned back, gaze hidden under his hood, intent well hidden. “I do not mind Fenrir. He’s a great soldier and an important informant for us.” He started, “Jordan asked me to watch over him around the base and for him to get to know the people. Everyone had been staring at us. At him.”
“I thought he would not mind. But I can see it on his face.” The hardened face softened. “His regret, his panic. It came out so sudden. It was… something. I had to put him close to me for most of time. ”
This was one of the rare times Maxim actually sympathized with someone outside of the Russian circle. A surprising outcome, but good.
“You like him?”
“A little bit.” A small shrug. “He reminds me of a puppy. The kind that would run around the streets and hide to avoid animal control. He’s scared of strangers with ill intention and wary of people that wanted to help him.”
One more thing that he knows about Maxim is that he’s a hunter. Observing wildlife and animals to read their body language is a part of his skill set. His calm nature and stoic expression are the marks of the experience he had both in the cold mountains and harsh city life during his undercover time. Jamie trusted his animal metaphors a lot.
“Poor guy.” Jamie straightened up his back, frowning a bit. He forgot he couldn’t wiggle his toes for the time being. “Now that you’re here, where is he?”
“He–”
The clinic door slid open, and hot air blew inside the cooler room, carrying the scent of rusted metal. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the familiar tech-like upper suit peeking from the gap, then the messy mop of jet-black hair.
Fenrir. In the flesh.
“Emil, good to know you can find your way here.” Maxim shifted his sitting position, leaning closer to Jamie. “Meet my friend. This is Stena. You can call him Jamie.”
The closer he looked at the clearly sleep-deprived man, the more he could see him in more detail. The thick bags under his eyes were bigger than the time he saw him on cams. Tired, half-lidded eyes cautiously scanned his surroundings. Slicked-back bangs that made the hair look puffier, like a maned wolf’s coat. There’s a trace of shaved facial hair on his chin, all the way to the top of his lips. Is the hard piece part of his uniform detachable? What’s the meaning of the three crowns engraved on the hard armor piece?
“–and that’s why he’s been staying here. It’s a common thing.” Maxim’s barks of laughter brought the young Russian back to reality. Fenrir had sat beside his senior, taking a noticeable distance from his cot. “He has a reckless spirit. Too bad I need to watch over his ass, or this would happen again.”
“It’s nothing, really!” Jamie exclaimed. “I’m glad Jordan and Ash didn’t get too much damage. They’re the core of Redhammer, after all.”
Maxim frowned. It’s not the good kind. “Ah. With that attitude, you would not be able to protect the little jackrabbit, Братан.”
[The image of Reth’s bloodied, limp body burned into his mind like a curse. Burn scars littered half of her petite body. Small shrapnels dug their way deep into the flesh. He could still remember the sickening smell of burnt flesh and gunpowder. Her little smile peeked from the corner of her mouth, telling her older brother that she didn’t like seeing him getting all sappy in a soft, raspy voice.
Her hands were smaller than he’d expected. He never noticed it during their first time meeting after years of living separately on different continents. He squeezed her hand gently, and it didn’t squeeze back.]
It took all of his willpower not to retort back, biting his tongue in the process. “I trust her. I trust Ghosteyes’ medical workers and Sir Fisher’s promise to care for her.”
“I know, I know.” A gloved hand found its way on top of his head. It was warm. “Your sister is a stubborn jackrabbit. Cav and Zero know their stuff.”
“Jackrabbit?” Fenrir, or rather Emil, raised his hand slightly. “Who’s that?”
“He meant Operator Espion. She’s my little sister.” There was a slight sense of pride blooming inside of his chest when he heard Reth’s codename out of his own mouth. “We’re blood-related, and she’s the one that has my Pa’s brain. A smart kid. You’d get along with her when she recovered from her injuries.”
Emil hummed, nodding in understanding. “Now, how are your condition?”
“They’ll remove my casts tomorrow, and then I’ll undergo physiotherapy to strengthen my thighs again.” He wiggled his feet, wrapped in thick plaster. “When I saw the rontgen picture of my shattered legs, it was kinda life-changing.” He let out a small chuckle.
“Never thought your legs would be into pieces like paper shreds,” Maxim added.
Laughter echoed through the medical room, and it came from Jamie himself. “Dude, even Gustave scolded me not to jump into the explosion! He said I was lucky my legs were still salvageable enough that they didn’t need to put rods and plates for extra support.”
“Ah…” Emil’s expression soured, lowering his gaze. “I’m sorry about your injuries.”
“It’s all good, really!” There was a tinge of worry from himself towards the Swede, so he gave the other a small smile in an attempt to reassure him. “You didn’t cause the injury. I was just being a tad bit reckless during the mission.”
[“Goddamnit– James, don’t come here!” Reth screamed out, throwing her whole body weight to the side of the supposed shipment box and pushing it away from the entrance. “This whole thing is a trap, you’ll get caught–”
Jamie didn’t listen. He never listens. “I don’t care!!!” He put his shield behind him and pushed the box along with her. “I’m supposed to be the one protecting you. I’m your fucking brother.”
“Outside the field, we may be siblings.” She’s scared. He could hear her voice tremble. “But in here, we’re soldiers. We have higher risks of dying.” He wanted to comfort her. “One of us. At least one of us should survive. Polar needs her older siblings.”
He could hear it now. The timer’s soft beeps as it counts its seconds.
Ten seconds remaining. They won’t make it unscathed.
Everyone was out already, and only two of them still remained inside the warehouse. They should’ve gotten out as soon as they can before the chance of them surviving reaches absolute zero.
‘At least one of us should survive.’]
“Besides, I’m a Redhammer. Handling high-risk missions is my duty.” Jamie leaned back down onto his cot. “Just like you, I have the same qualifications and what it takes to be one.”
Emil nodded. “You’re a good operator.”
“And so are you, Emil.” Maxim chimed in, followed by Jamie’s nodding. “Do not let the past define you. Or people’s words. They can be very biased.”
Once again, the Swede averted his gaze. “I appreciate it, but I don’t need your comfort and pity.”
“Don’t need or don’t feel like you deserve them?” Maxim’s words seemed to hit their target, seeing how Emil flinched from his seat, grimacing. The older Russian knows how to hit anyone’s nerve in general, so Jamie wasn’t surprised. “You cannot please all people here. But remember that not all people hate you.”
Emil’s head hung down low. “I didn’t mean to undermine your care and attention at all.” His voice was softer than before.
Self-deprecation, averting eyes, and anxiety. Signs of guilt and regret.
They were the same signs that his Pa would make every time he came home from missions from Spetsnaz and Rainbow.
[“Pa? Are you okay?”
Jamie was too young to understand the reason for his dad’s odd behaviors. How he sometimes stared into nothingness, eyes filled with nothing. How his hands trembled slightly. The way he sprinted like hell towards him when the young child cried for help. There were many moments when he found out his dad was still wide awake in the darkness late at night, sobbing silently.
He didn’t want his dad to be sad, so he asked him the cause. Maybe he could help him.
The response that he got was his dad’s large hand on top of his head, gently ruffling his fluffy brunette hair.
“Papa’s alright, James.” The words were gentle, and so was his dad’s expression. “Papa did something bad. And God gave Papa his karma.”
“Karma?” Jamie wrapped his arms around his dad’s torso. “But you saved people!”
“I did, kiddo.” The child giggled loudly as his dad lifted him up and let him cling to his chest. “But sometimes, Papa makes mistakes. Mistakes that even Papa cannot remove.”
Mistakes that couldn’t be forgiven even by God.]
“Did you know about the discovery of gunpowder?” The Swede perked up. His deep blue eyes shined slightly. Like a puppy that got asked for a treat.
“It was a part of the four greatest inventions of China, no? One of the earliest recipes for it consists of saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur.” Jamie nodded. From what he’d seen while watching the hacked interrogation session, Emil’s knowledge as a chemist shouldn’t be underestimated.
Jamie grinned widely. “Correct. Humanity’s most impactful invention that helped people expand their knowledge in exchange for uncounted sacrifices of human lives. Conflicts develop demands for countries to advance technologies further, and competitions create a sense of urgency.”
“Beside the giant impact it left, however, nobody asked about the original intention of the founding. Why it was developed in the first place.” Jamie pointed at Emil, a confident smile plastered all over his face. “Gunpowder, just like your thingy, was made for the sake of helping humanity in mind. Gunpowder was an accidental discovery in an attempt to make an elixir to prolong a human’s already short lifespan.”
“Just because the things that you developed lost their original functions, doesn’t mean you can’t use them under their original intentions. Like how we at Rainbow use firearms to save civilians and keep the peace around the world, you can still use your thingy to assist you in your missions and keep the casualty numbers low.” The confidence smile shrunk down into an awkward one. “...Do you get what I’m saying?”
[“James? Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”
Reth’s words echoed throughout the silent workshop, eyes still fixated on tinkering her gadgets. Jamie was only supposed to watch her in the distance, but he couldn’t help but feel something familiar with this scenario.
He hummed a bit, grabbing a plastic chair near the entrance and taking a seat right beside her. “I do think that spec-ops might not be the holiest job in the world,” just like their late dad, who was burdened by the same job, “but if nobody’s going to do it, civilians would have more challenging times with handling armed men, like terrorists and the governments themselves.”
She put down her tool before swiveling around in her chair, frowning. “I know, but what if the people we’re fighting against have a reasonable motive to fight? What if we’re just mere pawns for corrupt governments?” She stopped moving around, folding her arms, nails digging into her shoulder blades. “People have their right to voice their opinions, but when nobody listened to them, they would resort to violence to get people’s attention.”
Guilt. Self-doubt.
The same guilt that clouded his late dad’s mind.
“Rainbow isn’t like that, no.” He put his hand on his sister’s head. “If they’re like that, they won’t hire people with zero-casualties policy like Gustave. He’s very strict about it, too. I’ve seen how he works.”
“But…”
She’s right to an extent. Rainbow, for him, is still shrouded in mystery. There wasn’t much info about it on the internet, and he couldn’t verify whether most of their missions’ hostile targets were rebellious groups that fought against dictators or actual terrorists. Every time he was in the field, a tinge of self-doubt often clouded his judgment, and Maxim would end up covering for him.
He could still remember his dad’s empty gaze and silent sobs in the darkness.
His mom, fortunately, had a way of easing up a small fraction of her husband’s guilt, in the form of a metaphor.
“Do you know about the history of gunpowder?”]
Silence settled in between the three of them, then cracked as soon as Maxim chuckled out loud. His face now has a small, warm smile nestled on his usual stoic expression. “Trying to be wise, are you? Aleksandr would lose his shit if he heard this.”
Jamie blinked. Red blush seeped out of his cheeks and ears almost immediately. “Well– people tend to forget that they’re humans, too. Mistakes were prone to happen, and accidental discoveries ended up being created, for better or for worse.” He glanced at Emil once again. “You too, don’t go too hard on yourself.”
“I…” There was a moment of hesitation in Emil’s words, feeling conflicted with himself. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because, Emil,” Jamie’s tone was gentle, similar to how he talked to his frustrated sister, “people deserve second chances at trying. Using what they have to do the right thing once again.”
“If you want to earn a permanent place in Rainbow, Fenrir, try and forgive yourself first.”
Just like what his dad would do.
#r6s#r6s oc#rainbow six siege#kapkan#r6s fenrir#r6s kapkan#emil svensson#maxim basuda#The beginning of the Redhammer defender trio eventually
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Come to Your Senses (Strange x Reader) - Chapter 2
Chapter 2 - A Million Dreams
Song Inspiration
Request?: YES (for @jamiethenerdymonster)
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.3k+
Warnings: MAJOR MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS!! Also infrequent language and Stephen being a major idiot in love (if that's even a warning)
Summary: Now stranded within a new universe, Stephen finds himself needing to be acting guardian for America Chavez while his anxieties about you are at an all-time high. Not only that, Stephen's past comes flying back him when he least expects it -- in more ways than one. (gif by doctorstrangegifsparadise)
Everything was different in this other world. Stephen still couldn’t get over it as he made his way through the streets, America at his side. On one hand, it looked like his New York. Yet there were still some incredibly noticeable differences. There was so much more life in this world. Greenery decorated every inch of the city streets and its buildings. Flowers bloomed in sporadic places on rooftops, in sidewalks, even within the streets themselves. Even the sky was different with its kaleidoscope of rainbow-colored clouds.
You would have loved this – the new adventure, this bold new world. If it were under better circumstances, Stephen would have, too. As he walked, he imagined what it would have been like to have him with you on the trip. Granted, you would probably be scolding him to take you back home at first, but later grow curious about your surroundings and the idea of seeing a whole other version of him.
As they neared a crosswalk, Stephen eyed the red traffic light and prepared to take a step forward when he just about came face-to-metal with a car. If it wasn’t for America yanking him back, he was pretty sure he’d be roadkill. “We go on red?!” he asked.
“Rule number one of Multiversal travel,” America explained as she nodded at him, “you don’t know anything.”
Stephen merely gave a nod of his own and glanced up at the traffic signal, which changed colour and symbols once again. “It’s…red,” he remarked as he continued walking. “So, what’s rule number two?”
He was met with silence. The lack of the young multiversal traveller’s presence sent a momentary fear throughout Stephen’s form. His blood turned to ice as he began to worry the separation would be close to permanent. They were in an entirely different version of his universe – how would he be able to get back? Logically, he knew that if he lost America, they would cross paths at this earth’s Sanctum. In the heat of the moment, though, it had become relatively easy to forget this factor. It was around that time he felt a tapping against his arm, which replaced the fear with sweet relief.
“Rule number two,” America explained as she held up a little red bowl of round cheesy balls of dough, “find food. Preferably pizza.”
“How did you pay for that?” Forgetting his momentary anger toward her disappearance, Stephen lifted a single eyebrow in question.
“It’s free. Food is free in most universes, actually.” She paused to take a bite. “It’s weird how you guys have to pay for stuff.”
“HEY!” a voice exclaimed while they passed by a food stand. Stephen gave a quick glance at the source – an older man with white hair and a very angry frown chiselled into his features. “You didn’t pay for that!!”
“Crap.” America swore under her breath. “Maybe things aren’t free here after all…should we run?”
“There are other ways to handle your problems other than running from them.” Stephen remarked to his young companion. He turned his attention back to the vendor before him. Before he could get another word in edgewise about America’s situation, the man grabbed onto the Cloak of Levitation.
“You took this suit from the Strange museum, didn’t you?” he accused.
Museum? Stephen knit his brow in confusion, stare intently locked on the man. “Strange museum? What are you-”
The vendor didn’t let him finish. “You’re a taker. Why don’t you take some mustard, huh?” He lifted a plastic condiment container up and was about to squeeze it when Stephen froze his grip in mid-air. Mere seconds later, the self-proclaimed Pizza Poppa had a fresh mustard facial and a few new bruises on his face as Stephen gestured for America to follow him through the streets.
“Come on,” he called behind him, “it’s not permanent.”
“Like he’ll stop in a few minutes?”
“About three weeks.” A smirk wormed its way onto Stephen’s face as he reached over to pluck a pizza ball from America’s bowl. He wasn’t usually much for greasy foods. You would always tease him about his preference of a salad or a steak to good old fashioned takeout, something that caused you to have a number of playful spats in the past. Maybe it was the change in universe that affected his taste buds, or the fact that his stomach was emptier than a black hole, but he had to admit that the taste was quite satisfactory.
“Hey!” America exclaimed, playfully swatting at his hand. “Those are mine!”
“Hasn’t anyone taught you how to share? Especially after the person who stole food from you just saved your life?” As though to prove his point, he reached over and plucked another doughy ball from the bowl. His nose wrinkled at the grease dripping down his throat. Stephen was just too hungry to care, though.
Look at you – expanding your horizons, your voice teased him in the back of his mind. Who are you and what have you done with Stephen Strange?
He couldn’t stop the small smile that flickered on his lips as he took another bite. Once again, he was wishing you were with him to explore this new world. He made a mental note to commit as much of the experience as he could to memory so he could share with you upon his return. You might not believe him at first. Although, given the many crazy experiences you’ve shared over the course of your friendship (including a genocidal maniac alien who caused Stephen to disappear for five years), it may take less convincing than he thought.
“Those universes we went through,” Stephen asked as they walked through the city’s streets. It was almost as if this world lived entirely in a greenhouse. The garden area was beautiful, Stephen had to admit, although it almost felt too colourful and cheery. “Were we paint in one of them?”
“Yeah.” America nodded her head and tossed the plastic bowl in a nearby trash can as she popped the last pizza ball in her mouth. “You don’t want to get stuck in there. It’s really hard to eat.”
Gee, this kid really likes her food, your voice echoed in his mind.
“How many universes have you been to?” Stephen asked, attempting to ignore your voice. It was just a stupid trick being played on him by his own mind and he hated it. If he wanted to get back home, the last thing he needed was you in his thoughts.
“Seventy…two? Seventy-three, counting this one.”
Stephen came to a halt to stare at the young girl. “That’s…that’s a whole lot.” As he opened his mouth to say more, Stephen was cut off by a ‘ding’ and a circle of light around his feet.
“Memory Lane,” an automated voice spoke from a nearby speaker. “Replay your significant memories, now at a discounted price. We remember so you don’t forget.”
To say it was like magic watching the scene around them change would be tacky for the ex-Sorcerer Supreme of his universe. Even still, Stephen couldn’t help but stare as he saw his past self standing by the Metro-General Hospital’s nurses’ station. It was his old life, one where he was still a surgeon; before he had his accident and lost the use of his hands for over a year. He was fidgeting as he paced back and forth, clearly waiting for something.
That was when he remembered the day. He wasn’t waiting for something.
He had been waiting for you.
The door to his right opened and past Stephen had straightened up almost immediately. Doctor Whitmore stepped out of the office and gave him a short nod before making his way to the back room with the printer. You came into view a moment later, causing Stephen’s breath to catch in his throat as he watched. God, the two of you looked so young then!
“Well?” Past Stephen asked with a hopeful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Your past self simply shrugged and reached up to ruffle your hair out of its slicked-back bun. This was the stage of dyed red hair and curlers for you. Stephen remembered it well. He would tease you that the 80’s wanted their hair back, but you would always wave him off.
“Don’t leave me in suspense here,” Past Stephen tried again. He reached over to poke you a few times in the arm and stomach, a playful attempt to get a rise out of you. “Come on, what did he say?!”
That’s all it took for you to crack a small smile. “I start Friday,” you had said with a confident giggle.
Stephen watched with a smile as his past self surged forward and lifted you up around the waist, spinning the two of you around in a circle. He remembered all of the happiness he had felt that day – the day you transferred into Metro General. The two of you were inseparable during his time there. You were the only other person who would put up with his attitude on a given day. You were also the only other person who had the right to call out his bullshit when he tried to be Mr. Jack-of-All-Trades.
As fast as it appeared, the scene changed again. Past Stephen was now standing in your shared apartment, fixing a bowtie in the mirror. “Hey,” his past self called, “is this straight?”
It was a few years later now, he could tell that much – before he had become a renowned neurosurgeon. After you had taken the position at the hospital, the two of you decided to go in on rent costs for an apartment. Seeing as you both were rarely home as it was, it made sense to just have a place to rest your heads at night.
If Stephen remembered right, this memory was of the night he had received his first award. He remembered the god-awful maroon suit he had managed to loan with the money he had saved. He hated that thing, but you had somehow convinced him he would be the most well dressed doctor in the building. His date would certainly be one lucky lady, you had assured.
There was the sound of heels clicking against the floor as you made your way over to where he was. Stephen bit the inside of his cheek when you came into view. You were wearing the dress you had saved for a special occasion. Usually meant for a friend’s wedding or a celebration, Stephen remembered feeling pleased that you saw his award as something special. If he closed his eyes, he could feel where your fingers had touched his collar and smell the light scent of perfume you loved so much.
You expertly twisted the piece of fabric around his neck into an elegant knot. “There we go,” you said with a small grin. “You know one of these days, you’re going to have to figure out how to do this on your own.”
“But I have you here now and you always know how to tie it right,” his past self said as he winked. “So I don’t need to worry about that right this second, do I?”
You sighed and shook your head. “Flattery won’t get you everything, Stephen Strange.”
“Hey, it got me a date with Christine, didn’t it?”
The entire mood of the room changed with that one phrase. Even now, Stephen wished he could have taken that back. A dark shadow flicked across your face for a moment before it was replaced with a thin smile. “That it did, Stephen. And Christine is one lucky lady.”
As the memory faded, so did Stephen’s good mood. “This is a waste of time,” he muttered aloud while he stepped off the glowing plate of concrete. The last thing he needed were thoughts of you floating around his head even more than they had been. He couldn’t think about where you were or what was happening to you. If he did, he would want nothing more than to run to your side and never leave. You were his friend and he would do anything to protect you or make you smile.
Then he heard the voice again. “Memory Lane. Replay your significant memories, now at a discounted price. We remember so you don’t forget.”
Stephen turned to see America staring intently at the scene before her. It was a beautiful lush valley. Even through the tinny speakers, he could hear the sound of bees buzzing and birds chirping within the nearby forest. There was a small child skipping through the field. Dressed in a blue and purple pantsuit, she had a wide smile on her face and dark hair that fell down to her stomach. Two figures walked the path beside her. The sound of giggling and sincere laughter bounced around as they took in the beauty of the day.
“Where is this?” Stephen asked.
America’s eyes didn’t leave the scene for a second. “Home.”
The two figures neared the young girl in the scene, who Stephen now presumed to be America as a child. It was two women, dressed in similar garb, but with more prominent bright white stars pinned against the right shoulders. They were watching small America pick flowers from a nearby bush.
“My moms.” America smiled. “¡Son mis madres!”
It was a wonderful moment. Seeing America with her parents caused a twinge to appear in Stephen’s stomach. Throughout his life, the ex-neurosurgeon never wanted children. His schedule was far too busy to have a life of his own, much less a spouse and family. Yet as he stood next to America and saw the unconditional love between parent and child, there was this…pull he couldn’t ignore.
Maybe he just hadn’t found the right person. As he let his mind wander, Stephen began to imagine what life would look like now with children – if it wasn’t too late for him to try. Or maybe that was it. Maybe he was just too old for changing diapers, midnight feedings, and first days of school. In his mind, he saw a little girl and little boy. Both had his blue-green eyes and their own contagious laughter. The boy had dark hair like his own, but the girl…she had locks similar to the colour of-
A scream jolted Stephen from his thoughts and he watched in horror as small America was terrified by a large bee. He stepped closer to the older version of the multiversal traveller, resulting in his arm being gripped rather tightly. There were tears in her eyes as they watched a star-shaped portal open behind her younger self and her mothers, sucking the three of them in before the memory ended. It was much like the one that had taken them from Kamar-Taj to this unknown world.
“You know, you were right,” America’s voice cracked as she spoke. Her chest was heaving from the shallow breaths that she attempted to take. “This was just a waste of time.”
“Hey, kid.” Stephen followed her as she attempted to compose herself and walk past. “That was the first time you opened a portal, right?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” he argued. “You lost your parents.”
“I didn’t lose them,” America’s voice grew strained. “I killed them.”
“No, no you did not. Don’t even think that.”
“Okay,” the young girl relented with a nod as she kept walking. “I opened a portal with the powers I can’t control and sent them to a random, probably deadly universe, with no way to escape.”
“Listen.” Stephen reached over and grabbed her arm. “If your moms are anything like their daughter, they survived.” He gave a small nod and sincere smile. “I’m sure you’ll meet them again someday.”
“Not bad,” America said after a while, a smile threatening to appear in the corners of her lips. “Almost like you’ve done this before.”
A chuckle escaped Stephen’s lips and he looked to the ground. “Thanks.”
As they resumed their journey to the Sanctum, America cleared her throat. “Hey,” she said. “That, uh. That woman in your memory bank thing. That’s the one you took to the hospital right?” Your name sounded foreign to him coming from her lips, but Stephen was grateful to hear it again.
“Yes,” he responded with a sigh, “that was her. How do you know her?”
“From Other You.”
“They knew each other?” In hindsight, Stephen knew he shouldn’t have been completely surprised by your connection through the multiverse. Even still, it was a bit of a comfort to know you were a constant in his life no matter what.
“Kind of,” America stumbled over her words a bit, “they were…together for a while.”
“Together?”
“Yeah, boyfriend-girlfriend together.” America shrugged. “I mean, until he completely blew it and pushed her away like an idiot.”
Stephen frowned. “Why did he do that?”
“Because she took the blow for him during his fight against Nightmare,” America explained. “The guy was trying to get to you- Other You, sorry- but she gave him a distraction. He messed with her mind for months. She didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. He told me that she refused to let him know what was going on. So when Other You found out…he got mad and told her to leave after they stopped Nightmare. Said it was for her safety.”
“Of course he did,” Stephen set his lip in a tight line and looked down at the ground.
“I, uh, I heard she died a few weeks before I showed up so he was pretty beat up about it.” She cleared her throat and shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. “So, uh, what about you? Are you two together in your universe?”
Stephen blinked and his step faltered for a moment. “Uh, no,” he admitted. “No, we’re uh, we’re not together. We’re just really good friends. Have been since graduate school.”
“Oh,” America frowned at the sky. “What is it with all of these versions of her taking a hit for you and dying?” That caused a harsh glare to be sent her way. “Oh! Uh, almost always dying. Sorry. Anyway, uh. Do you love her?”
Stephen almost froze again. Love. That was a pretty powerful word. Did he love you? As a friend, absolutely. No one else knew him any better. But as anything else? You made his life better. There was no doubt about it. He couldn’t picture his life without you or your smile. “It’s complicated,” he settled on for a response.
“More complicated than being chased by a witch through the multiverse?”
“Actually, yes. Yes it is.”
Before America could retort, they neared the familiar entrance of the Sanctum Sanctorum. Although, there was something off. Towering over them stood a pewter statue of…Stephen himself. Don’t go getting a big head now, your voice chided in his mind. Well, a bigger head than the statue’s.
This Stephen still had the Cloak of Levitation and robes. Unlike himself, however, the statue was clean shaven. As he drew closer, he noticed a plaque embedded within the pedestal. “Dr. Stephen Strange,” it read in golden lettering. “Gave his life defeating Thanos. We express eternal gratitude to Earth’s Mightiest Hero.”
“Gave his life defeating Thanos?” America read aloud.
“Yeah, see,” Stephen remarked, “not all bad.”
“Okay, but if Other You’s dead… who’s the Master of the Sanctum?”
As though in response, there was a loud creak as the Sanctum doors opened. Stephen stepped to the side to get a closer look and he felt his heart drop when a figure stepped out onto the street. Stephen’s eyes widened as he took in the sight before him, the person clutching a golden sword tightly in their grip.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered.
====================
Author's Note: And we're back!! So sorry this chapter was posted so late in the day. I didn't schedule anything for this week and almost forgot to do it manually because of life stuff. But here's the second chapter!! When I got this request from jamiethenerdymonster, I immediately pictured the memory bank scene. This was one scene I was ecstatic to write and was super proud of how it came out!
I'm make you guys a deal, though. If we can reach...say 50(?) notes by Monday night, I'll release the next chapter early. What do you say?! To make things a bit more enticing, the next chapter was one of my FAVORITES of this series that I've written so far... give you a few guesses as to why ;)
Until next time, my lovely little sparks!
#frostandflamesfanfic#stephen strange x reader#doctor strange#doctor strange x reader#benedict cumberbatch#marvel mcu#doctor strange fanfiction#stephen strange fanfiction#fluff and angst#come to your senses#come to your senses strange#ctys stephen#doctor strange imagine#doctor strange fluff#dr strange gifs#mcu imagine#stephen strange imagine#doctor strange multiverse of madness#dr strange in the multiverse of madness#multiverse of madness#elowynsmultiversialspoilers
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sk8 au where everything’s the exact same except reki and langa are mildly tiktok famous
langa:
was a really popular snowboarding account
mostly posted vids of him doing various tricks wth the occasional fail/goof compilation
he also made some tiktoks abt being mixed and asian in canada which blew up from time to time
didnt post anything for ages after oliver died
got back into tiktoking after moving to jpn, meeting reki, picking up skateboarding etc
mostly still posts trick vids but does the odd trend now thanks to reki and miya’s influence
has a whole mini series of tiktoks that are basically just him going ‘weebs say they wanna live in japan but they have no idea what it’s really like *a minuet and a half of ranting about [x] japanese thing*’
reacts to ‘where’d you get your board/how’d you learn to skate comments’ by gushing about reki
langa voice: please stop asking me to do more tiktoks in japanese i can barely think of what to say in english
he’s also on gaytok
to this date one his popular vids is him just walking around his house saying ‘you guys think being gay means wearing rainbows or drinking iced coffee. to ME, being gay means picking up a whole new extreme sports hobby because a cute boy suggested it to me’
he takes sneakshot videos of reki pulling off tricks and uploads them to hype him up
reki:
his account’s a lil bit of everything
i feel like reki does a lot of dance trends/challenges, esp standing on top of his board lmao
he does instructional videos like ‘how to land an ollie!’ or ‘best way to pick out a skateboard as a beginner’, those vids get pretty popular since he’s such a good teacher
he posts a loooooot of timelapse vids of him making skateboards, he sometimes lets his followers choose what he’s going to paint/what colour palatte to use
reki has an addiction to those ‘put a finger down’ audios
he also posts trick vids!! since he’s more of a streetboarder (as opposed to langa’s vert style) a lot of his tiktoks are shot in like,, parking lots or public parks or quiet streets
reki, filming as he’s skating away from the cops: hey guys!! today im gonna teach you the best way to stop on your board quickly and duck into an alleyway
after he meets langa reki posts so many tiktoks of him bailing and eating conrete lmaoo
reki voice: hey S community, is this your amazing rookie snow? /hard cut to langa falling down a halfpipe/
for every vid he uploads of langa bailing, theres at least 5 more of him landing a trick and reki going fucking wild behind the camera
#oh i did not mean to post this yet whoops#sk8 the infinity#renga#og post //#my understanding of tiktok is taken entirely from reposted vids i see on tumblr
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