#i'm taking a leave of grievance right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roosterr · 8 months

Note

Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol

the 141 when you have amnesia – p2

note: i have received your therapy bills :)

wc: 5.2k

warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise

ao3

[part one]

price

✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.

✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.

✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.

✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.

✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.

✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.

✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.

✹ the base is dull without you.

✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.

✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.

✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.

✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.

✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.

✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.

✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.

✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.

✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.

✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"

✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.

✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.

✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.

✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.

✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.

✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.

✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.

✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.

✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.

✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.

✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,

✹ "i remember you now."

✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.

✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.

✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.

✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.

✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."

✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"

gaz

✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.

✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.

✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.

✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.

✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.

✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.

✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.

✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.

✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?

✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.

✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.

✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.

✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.

✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines.

✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.

✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.

✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.

✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.

✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.

✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.

✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.

✹ "i'm not really paying attention."

✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.

✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."

✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"

✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.

✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.

✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.

✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.

✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"

✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"

✹ "just piss off, you prick!"

✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.

✹ "what's wrong? are you–"

✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.

✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.

✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.

✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,

✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"

✹ "you read my mind."

soap

✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.

✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.

✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.

✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.

✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.

✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.

✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.

✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.

✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.

✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.

✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"

✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"

✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"

✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"

✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.

✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.

✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.

✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.

✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.

✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.

✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.

✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.

✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."

✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"

✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"

✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."

✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.

✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.

✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.

✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.

✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.

✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.

✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.

✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.

✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."

✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."

✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.

✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.

✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"

✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.

✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.

✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.

✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.

✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.

✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"

✹ "i'll never forget you again."

ghost

✹ he avoids you like the plague.

✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.

✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.

✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.

✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.

✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.

✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.

✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.

✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"

✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.

✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"

✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.

✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."

✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.

✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.

✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.

✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.

✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.

✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.

✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.

✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.

✹ "i remember, si."

✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.

✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.

✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.

✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"

✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."

4K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭

but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷

thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)

Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)

cw: sick family member

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis.

Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments.

So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it.

Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps.

“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive.

“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”

Singh nods in return.

“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.”

James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?”

You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.”

A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?”

Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you.

“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.”

“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way.

“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.”

“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.”

“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.”

You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.”

“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?”

James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.”

You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.”

“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?”

You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.”

“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.”

You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.”

James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently.

“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.”

“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.”

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.”

You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?”

James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.”

You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.”

“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.”

“You’ve caught me.”

It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.”

“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.”

James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.”

“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.”

“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.”

You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”

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bunviie · 7 days

Text

you sit on the floor, utterly defeated. your mind drifts over countless thoughts and feelings at once. you stare at the numerous binders and loose paper sheets, eyes hot and threatening to slip your unwanting sorrows.

your boyfriend stumbles into the room, breathless as his eyes dart around before finally landing on you. he’s quick and crouches before you, a blatant startled expression scattered across his features.

“i heard a loud thud, are you okay?” he scans your body for any injury, hands gently holding your head while adjusting it left and right. he stops mid-inspection and notices your sullen expression. “yn, baby what's wrong?” he caresses your cheeks and for some reason, this only makes you cry. his eyes only widen and he stands on his feet, offering his hands to you. with blurry vision, you take them naturally. he helps you up and guides you to the bed behind you. he sits down first and welcomes you in his embrace.

you continue to sob, tears now completely clouding your vision, falling freely down your cheeks and onto your shirt. leaving small wet droplet stains.

“talk to me, what happened?” he feels frantic but keeps his composure for you. he didn't want to provoke the situation further. you take a deep breath, swallowing past the awful lump in your throat that left your breath choppy and stuttering. too overwhelmed to steady your cries.

“it's too hard,” you start, agitatedly wiping your wet face. eren doesn't say anything and only stares at you sincerely, giving you the room to speak. “i just…i try my best a-and nothing works out,” you glance at the paper mess below you two and eren follows your gaze. “i-im gonna f-fail and never graduate. i’ll forever be stuck and stressed about things that don't even make sense,” you ramble, pouring your emotions out into the room. his hand smooths over your back soothingly allowing you to air out your grievances as he listens intently.

once you’re done, he kisses the side of your head and wipes away the remnants on your face. his thumb massaging along your now silky skin.

“feel better?” he asks sweetly. you aren't able to see his face, yet you still felt his kind smile, beaming assuringly. you sniffle and shake your head. he chuckles lowly, finding your response endearing. “well…know that i'm here for you and that there’s nothing at all you can't do. you’ve come so far, there is absolutely nothing you can't figure out. even if you have your moments of struggles, just know that i'm here to support you through it,” his words were even sweeter and were said with so much love. his lips meet your knuckles tenderly before he stares up at you fondly. you swoon internally, wondering how you managed to be so lucky.

“so, how about, we get you something to eat– or sleep, whatever it is you’re in the mood for right now?” he moves to hold you securely in his lap. you shift, making yourself more comfortable as you drape your arms around him, nestling your face in his warm embrace.

“can you just hold me?” you request softly.

“of course,”

eren lays down slowly, careful not to ruin your relaxed position. he lays you on his chest and you hug him tightly. he doesn't mind, his hand soothingly rubbing long strokes on your back. your worries went away one by one. emotions quelled down with ease, almost like you were never upset at all. you sigh contently, remaining close to him as you both lay still in each other's affectionate hold.

#eren x black reader #eren x chubby reader #anime x chubby reader #attack on titan x black reader #eren x black y/n #x chubby reader #x black reader #bunviie writes #aot

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lixxpix · 13 days

Text

our lost love - h.hj

genre: angst, break-up

tw: lots and lots and lots of angst, kinda sad ending:<

synopsis: "this is the end, isn't it?" you asked, the both of you tangled up in bed with your fingers interlocked. a bittersweet smile rested on your lips, yet your eyes were brimming with tears and unspoken grievances. "i'm sorry."

author's note: this was so sad but i got randomly inspired out of nowhere lol>< reblogs and likes r appreciated!

you could feel hyunjin slipping away from you, through the cracks of your fingers. and you tried, you really did. grasping and trying to hold on desperately to his hands as he slipped out of your grasp. out of your world. he would never acknowledge it, of course. he would never want to hurt you. he loved you, but wasn't in love with you. but you, ever the observer, could see the way his eyes gazed upon you with fondness but had lost their sparkle reserved for only you in the past. you could sense him closing up, dropping a quick peck on your forehead when he came home with a 'hi baby.' but it was never like the affectionate, loving kiss he always gave you in the past, taking his time to talk about his day and cuddle with you, never the deep conversations you two would have until 2am in the morning. you used to envision a future with him, a quiet family with one or two kids and a happy life, but deep down you knew that dream would probably never come to fruition. and it hurt. so, so, bad. countless hours spent sniffling into the pillow as you grieved for the inevitable loss of your love, your muse for the past 3 years. but for now, you would cling onto the last moments as if they were your lifeline, and wait until that fateful day when your nightmare would morph with reality.

hwang hyunjin knew he was falling out of love. he loved you, as a companion. the kind of person he would want to grow old with, the kind that would stick by his side through the years. but his spark, his passion for you had died down, from a once burning fire to a flickering flame in the candlelight, a familiar and comforting warmth yet not warm enough to heat the room. he tried so hard to fall in love with you again. memorised your every detail, tried to take you out on dates. but each time, he never felt that passion reignite. he would always love you as a friend, a companion and partner. you brought a certain warmth into his life. but hyunjin was a fiery person. if you were water, he was fire. he couldn't live without passion, without the burning heat that threatened to consume him. hyunjin felt so, so guilty, each time he came back late to see you asleep on the couch after waiting for him, each time you gazed at him with so much love and adoration that he knew he couldn't give back. hyunjin knew he had fallen out of love, yet couldn't bring himself to break your heart and break the perfect life he had been living with you for the past three years. so he would wait until the day when he knew the time was right and inevitably have to leave, leaving in his wake behind two broken hearts.

"this is the end, isn't it?" you asked, the both of you tangled up in bed with your fingers interlocked. a bittersweet smile rested on your lips, yet your eyes were brimming with tears and unspoken grievances.

"im sorry." hyunjin could only muster those two words, his heart breaking when he finally saw you close your eyes with a sigh, a lone tear trickling down your face.

"i know, just... hold me one last time." you breathed, fingers grazing his cheek and your eyes searched the eyes of the man you had once loved. no, you still loved him.

a part of you always would, no matter who you were with in the future. one day, you would look back on all of this with a smile and thank him for the memories, the moments that made you who you were. one day, your heart would expand to fit for another that you loved, the love for hyunjin remaining in a small corner of your mind. you would leave a piece of the old you in his heart, and he would leave a piece of him in you, but as time would pass and so would you grow into a new person, the old you simply just a stepping stone into the new chapter of your life. the memories made with hyunjin would always be moments to look back upon fondly, smiling wistfully for the happiness you experienced with him. you would always love hwang hyunjin, you supposed. a person never forgets the people they had loved. if someone were to ask you if you had regretted those three years, you would reply without hesitation a definite 'no'.

"thank you for letting me love and live."

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids #angst #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #drabble #skz imagines #hwang hyunjin #skz angst

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mixiury · 9 months

Text

Here with you — Wanderer x GN! Reader

Summary: After a long walk with Wanderer, you ended up exhausted, taking a small nap with your companion in the middle of the forest.

A/N: I corrected some typos I noticed after reading this again. I am dyslexic and English isn't my first language so I'm sorry if there is still some. Please feel free to point them out!

"Come here, lie with me."

"Why would I? To get my clothes dirty like yours? No thanks." Wanderer answered to your request almost instantly, showing little interest in changing his mind.

Both of you have been walking for hours now, enjoying the cool breeze that the trees of the Sumeru forest release.

It's hard to keep track of time in a place like this, especially when the silence and calm stretches out in its entirety and all you can hear is the soft melody of the birds with the snapping grass and leaves you are stepping on the ground while you walk.

But even though your hiking companion doesn't need to take breaks and the beautiful views of the landscapes along the way help in motivating you to continue exploring, you soon end up finding your feet and legs demanding you to rest, lying down on a small and comfortable hill, while Wanderer reluctantly agrees to wait for you a few minutes.

"Are you sure you don't want to join me? The sun is nice." You know what his response is going to be, but you keep insisting anyways, hoping that some miracle will happen that would make him change his mind and rest alongside you. However, as was from being expected, his head just turned away, ignoring your request with the same stubborness that characterizes him.

Defeated, you find solace in the warm sunlight and fresh grass you lie on, slowly imbuing yourself in its trap as your eyelids fight to stay open.

It is not until he notices how quiet you have become that Wanderer's gaze finally returned to your sleeping figure, noticing each deep breath you take as your chest rises and falls steadily, with nothing to interrupt you from falling into your calm, soft slumber.

It's annoying how you allow to put yourself in such a comfortable state in the middle of nowhere. As if, in this precise moment, nothing else mattered.

It seems like you don't know how easy of a target you are right now, not worrying about your surroundings and all the dangers that are around you. It only takes a few seconds to end a human's life and it's much easier when you're in such a vulnerable and peaceful state that you wouldn't even be able to react before you feel the pain of your aggressor hurting you.

And yet, the mere thought of it makes him feel sick and jealous of you at the same time. How can you live your life so carelessly? Is it because you don't have any self-prevention instincts inside that empty brain of yours? Or are you just so naive that, even knowing how he can easily leave you to your own devices, you still trust him enough to allow yourself to be in this position?

Knowing you will probably never tell him, he decides to search the answer by himself, quietly approaching you and laying down next to you, hoping that the sound of the grass rustling next to you won't wake you up or interrupt your dreams as he watches you in complete silence.

And it's only now, after he finally gave into your request, that he understood what you were talking about.

The faint rays of the sun really feel like a bliss the moment they caress your face, intense enough to embrace you with their warmth but not to the point of burning you. Contrasting with the cloudy and gloomy Inazuma mornings he had grown used to.

It has been so long since he felt this warmth and calmness, still staring at you steadily and letting himself enjoy the peaceful nature of the moment.

It feels illegal that him, out of all people, could experience an instance like this. He, whom from the day of his creation the only birthright that has been given to him was an eternity of grievance, shame and solitude, simply lying on the grass without any other concern but you.

He doesn't understand it but he wants to. Your presence itself has already helped him understand a hint of your normalicy, something that he had spent decades chasing and longing for but was never able to hold for long enough to call it his. And yet, he lets himself fall into your trap and comfort, finally taking a break from all the thoughts that have been stuck in his mind as he simply rests by your side.

#wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wanderer fluff #scaramouche fluff

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 5 months

Text

The Art of Etiquette Part 1 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Your Step Father would like to introduce you into high society but you're required to take lessons to learn how to play the part and from your instructor's perspective it seems like you have a lot of catching up to do. Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Explicit Language, not really anything else at this point lol a/n: Planning on turning this into a short series so please let me know what you think <3 p.s. this is horribly edited and was written in one sitting lol

"Why do I have to suffer the consequences of the decisions you made for this family?" I say chasing after my mother as she walks down the main hallway in our new home. "Y/n becoming a debutant is not a consequence" she says, making her way into the main living room.

"To me it is" I complain, dreading this entire ordeal already. "The whole process only lasts about a year so-" "A year? You expect me to be parade around in pretty dresses and entertain people I have absolutely no interest in just because you decided to marry a rich man? Yeah, no I'm not doing it" I say, watching as she takes a seat on the couch waiting for me to tell her my grievances, knowing that I won't back down easily.

"It's not a huge commitment I promise. You'll have etiquette lessons twice a week, go to a fitting every once in a while and take dance lessons once a week. I'm sure you can sacrifice a few hours out of your week for this. "Your father wa-" "Step father" I cut her off, making my stance on the man known. "Your step father wants to introduce you as his daughter and the best way to do so would be having you come out at a debutant ball" she explains hoping to show me their reasoning behind it. "Oh I'm straight so don't worry I won't be needing a coming out event or anything like that" I say teasing her.

"Very funny" she says clearly unamused, "I would really appreciate it if you just did this for us, and if you don't want to do it for us then do it for you, for your future. Do you know how pivotal this moment could be for you? A lot of important people go to these balls so if you want to make a name for yourself in this city then that's a great place to start" she says hoping to entice me, showing how this could benefit me as well. "Just think about it, okay?" she says standing up to leave the room and placing a hand on my shoulder as a sign of reassurance, leaving me conflicted.

A few days later at the breakfast table I finally decide to give them my answer. "Um, dad" I say hoping to get his attention. "Yes honey?" he says putting down the newspaper that he had just been flipping through. "I think I want to go through with the whole debutant thing if you still wanted me to" I say playing with my sleeve, still unsure of the choice I've made but I guess theres no going back now. "That's great! I'll contact the agency and get all of your lessons set up straight away" he says quickly texting his assistant, asking them to get things set in motion.

"Would you prefer private lessons or would you like to take them with some of the other girls that are preparing to come out as well?" he questions, still looking down at his phone. "Oh it's okay don't worry about getting her pri-" "Private lessons would be great" I say cutting my mom off. The less interactions I can have with these spoiled rich kids, the better. I send her a tight lipped smile, telling her to back off before I change my mind and she does just that.

"Alright, I have Matthew working on it now so we could probably get everything set up by the time your classes end. You finish up at four right?" he asks, catching me off guard, "You know my class schedule?" I question. "Of course I do! What kind of father would I be if I didn't pay attention to my daughter's academics?" he says, giving me a warm smile before taking one last sip of his coffee, standing up to go.

"I've gotta head off, love you" he says giving my mother a quick peck and then coming over to me to give me a kiss on the top of my head. "Have a good day you two" he says to us as his final adieu, heading out to where his driver is waiting for him. "Thank you" my mother says, happy with the effort I'm putting into assimilating our family. "I'm doing this for you guys, but I'm also doing this for me like you had said, I guess I'll just have to suffer through it for the next year" I say, already questioning myself.

"I promise you won't regret it!" she reassures me, reaching out for my hand across the table and I mirror her action. 'I sure hope not' I say to myself and give her a pained smile before leaving to head off to class.

"You're what?" my friend Jesse say, not believing a word I just said. "I'm gonna start taking lessons to become a debutante" I say, repeating myself, hoping he'll just take in the information so we can move past it. "So you're blowing me off so you can go to Barbie school?" he says, still in disbelief. "It's not Barbie school" I say rolling my eyes at him before sitting down at the table we usually hang out at during our breaks.

"Aren't they going to be dressing you up and making you all girly so you can go to tea parties and balls?" he questions, sitting across from me. "Yes..." I say trailing off not being able to prove him wrong. "Barbie school" he says satisfied with himself, taking a bite out of the apple he had just bought for dramatic affect. "Whatever" I say crossing my arms across my chest. "So when do you start?" he asks, suddenly curious about the topic. "Matthew sent me a text with the address I'm supposed to go to for my first etiquette lesson so I guess I'll be headed there after class.

"And Matthew is...?" he questions, "My dad's assistant, I've told you this like five times already" I say rolling my eyes at him. "I'm sorry okay, there have been a lot of changes in your life and brand new characters added to the cast so it's hard to keep it all straight" he explains. "Name one other person besides Matthew that I've told you about" I say with a raised brow, curious as to who these 'new characters' might be. "Your step dad" he says proudly, not elaborating further.

"Anyone else?" I ask, rolling my eyes at the cop out answer he gave me and he decides to sit in silence after putting little to no thought into anyone else I might've told him about. "Do you even know his name?" I scoff, feigning irritation. "Scott? No Thomas!" he says confident in his second answer. "It's James" I say standing up and grabbing my stuff so I can walk towards my next class.

"I'm sorry, you know I have shit memory" he says throwing his arm around my shoulder after catching up to me, having only been a few steps behind. "I know" I shake my head laughing it off, "It's funny how clueless you are sometimes" I say, shrugging his arm off of me. "Hey!" he whines, semi offended. "It's okay though, I still love you" I say waving him off as we part in different directions and blowing a kiss at him which he bats off to the side, rejecting my love. "Later loser" he says and we head off to our respective classes.

After the lecture is finally over my professor calls me to the front. "Yes?" I question, waiting for what he has to tell me. "I read your paper last night" he starts, "I'm sorry Professor I had some other assignments due at the same time so I wasn't able to put in as much effort as I wanted to" I confess feeling guilty about putting that assignment on the back burner. "Well I was actually going to tell you that I was rather impressed with it" he says looking up at me from his seated position at his desk, fixing his glasses.

"Really?" I question, surprised that it was good enough for him to even single out. "I wanted to ask if you would be interested in participating in this writing contest at the end of next month" he proposes and hands me the flyer showing all of the details. "You really think my writing is good enough?" I question, not even having considered signing up for something like this. "I wouldn't be speaking to you about it if I didn't think it was" he says laughing at my reactions.

"This would be amazing thank you!" I say starting to skim through the details real quick. "You can take that with you if you'd like" he offers and at that I nod in thanks and say my goodbyes before walking out and heading out towards my car.

"Now where exactly is this place?" I ask myself aloud, pulling up the text I got and putting the address into my gps. "45 minutes?" I say in astonishment, now slightly panicked seeing that even if I leave now I'll still be 10 minutes late. "What the hell Matthew?" I curse and put my seatbelt on, speeding out of the parking lot and down the street, praying that I'll be able to somehow shave a few minutes off the eta to make it in time.

"Punctuality is one of the most important aspects of proper etiquette" I hear the man say to me with his back turned as I walk into the area of his home he has dedicated to these lessons. "I'm very sorry I did not realize how far these lessons would be in relation to my University" I apologize hating that I've already made a bad impression which has clearly started us off on the wrong foot.

"Proper planning is also something you must consider to be able to maintain a certain sense of decorum before arriving to your intended destination" he says still with his back to me. "I apologize again Mr. Jeon it won't happen again" I say using what I hope is the proper way he would like to be addressed. "See that it doesn't" he says finally turning around to face me. I nod my head in acknowledgement and he gives me a sour look showing he's displeased with my response.

"One must verbally respond to properly communicate with one another" he says, placing his hands behind his back and interlocking his fingers while walking towards me and stalking around me like a predator sizing up his prey. "Understood" I respond and once he finally comes back around facing me he looks me up and down one last time before uttering another word.

"For your next lesson be sure to come in a dress or skirt that sits at the knee as well as stockings and heels of some sort and a blouse of course to pair with the skirt. If one wants to act like a lady, one must dress like a lady" he says and turns away to grab something in the corner of the room. "Noted" I say under my breath already exasperated, "What was that?" he questions looking over his shoulder at me, sorting through a few books to bring over. "Understood Mr. Jeon" I say, trying to play along and follow his rules.

"Seeing as we need to start from the very beginnings of the art of etiquette I need you to read these books by this time next week" he says handing me five very large books weighing my arms down and requiring me to stumble back to regain my balance. "All of them in a week? That's almost a book a day!" I say surprised by the workload I've been given after not even starting the actual lesson yet.

"I was not aware of the fact I would be required to teach you everything from the very start so let's just say we both have a lot of work to do" he says and motions towards a place I can set my purse down along with my five new headaches for this next week.

"Take a seat here please" he now motions to a chair that he has placed in the middle of the room waiting for me to do as he says. I walk up cautiously and take a seat, sitting on it like I normally would, knowing that he's meant to critique how I sit to change it. "Sit up straight, roll your shoulders back" he says taking in my posture at all angles while I follow along with his orders. "Loosen the tension in your back and shoulders" he says placing his hands on my shoulders from behind making me tense up even more from the unexpected contact.

"You've done the opposite of what I've asked you to" he says and I can hear how fed up with me he continues to be. "You startled me, I didn't realize you were going to do that" I say under my breath but loud enough for him to hear. "One must never mumble or talk back to anyone no matter the circumstances. Especially aimed to or in front of an authority figure" he says and walks back around to face me again. "So you see yourself as an authority figure to me?" I question, curious to see what his answer might be.

"I see myself as someone who deserves your respect and obedience" he says and tilts my chin up with his pointer finger maintaining purposeful eye contact. "And you will treat me as such".

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luveline · 2 years

Note

Steve harrington blurb, really shy quiet reader who sits behind the counter with Steve and Robin at family video, him always having his arm on her shoulder and whatnot!!

i love this idea so much, thank you for your request <3

You listen to their banter from your seat at the front desk. Steve's hand light on your shoulder.

"I'm not gonna call you names or anything, but I'm thinking of a word. Starts with d, ends with -ingus." A classic, though derivative as time goes on.

"What word could that possibly be?" Steve asks. You're surprised at his tone. Missing any hint of sarcasm, Steve has decided to play along. "You know," he furthers lightly, "I was thinking something similar of you."

"Oh, really?" Robin asks.

"Yeah. Starts with a c, ends with-"

You're distracted from their riveting conversation by a tall, thin lady knocking her knuckles on the counter expectantly. Your eyes move slowly from her fingers to the small golden bell an inch away, then back to her face. She looks displeased. Likely because there's three of you at the counter – an abundance of employees – and not one had noticed her come in.

"Can I get some assistance?" she asks.

You open your mouth. Before the words can come out his voice breaks up the silence, confident and clumsy simultaneously. "Hey, welcome to Family Video, what can I help you with?" Steve asks.

The lady blinks but doesn't kick up a fuss, renting three videos. Steve logs them each deftly and accepts her payment and doesn't stop touching you until he has to. She's not half turned away before Steve is sliding his arm across your shoulders wordlessly, hand dangling lazily over your chest. It's ridiculous how much you'd missed his touch in those brief seconds.

His arm is warm, his bare forearm like a heating pad across your shoulder.

"She did see the bell, right?" Robin asks.

Steve bursts into laughter, his arm squeezing your neck just slightly as he braces himself. You laugh under your breath in agreement, legs swinging under your stool, reaching up carefully to take the very tips of Steve's fingers between yours, knowing he won't care but worrying anyways. His hand is smooth.

"Who rents Rocky and Rocky III but not Rocky II?" Robin asks.

You've accidentally stolen his attention with your hand holding. Steve bends over you with his head held to his shoulder, looking a little dumbfounded as he pushes a piece of hair behind your ear. He sounds fond as he replies, "Apollo Creed."

Robin snorts. You don't get it and you aren't sure you could function well enough to make words right now, completely melted under Steve's soft gaze and softer touch. He cups your cheek in one hand, almost expressionless as he looks down at your face.

You manage to smile, quizzical. He smiles back and the spell is broken: he drops his palm from your cheek and stands straight.

"Did you unpack the box under Keith's desk?" he asks Robin.

"Nope."

"Are you going to?"

"Uh… Time is it?"

Steve lifts his hand from your shoulder to check and then drops it straight back down, body twisting away from yours. "Time for you to unpack the box under Keith's desk."

"I'd love to agree with you. Really. But I'm only remembering yesterday when you and Y/N disappeared for half an hour and I spent all my precious energy watching over the store. By myself. I'm still recuperating."

Steve blushes which doesn't look good for either of you, but he's telling the truth when he says, "We went for slurpees. We got you one."

"But for half an hour?" she says, like this is truly perplexing. A mystery of science.

Steve groans loudly. He ducks down over your shoulder and your face is burning white hot as he brings your fingers to his mouth and kisses them. He pats your shoulder before he leaves, grumbling grievances about being a maltreated show pony.

"Show pony implies you're pretty!" Robin calls to him. "You're more like a donkey."

Steve smiles at her and raises his middle finger as he disappears into the office.

You're rubbing your thumb across your fingertips, trying to dull the tingling sensation left behind by Steve's warm lips, almost woozy when Robin says, "I don't get what you see in him. It's like having a rabid chihuahua for a best friend."

You smile at your hands and turn in your seat. You can see Steve's legs where he's kneeling under the desk over her shoulder.

"He's sweet sometimes," is all you say. An understatement.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot

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professoruber · 4 months

Text

Incorrect Quotes: Bruce giving money to the Bat-Family | Part 2

Previous Part: Link | Next Part: Link

Stephanie: You're trying to give me... money?

Bruce: Yes. With your growing responsibilities, I've decided you should receive a fund to help support your vigilante activities.

Stephanie: ...Is this because you're finally feeling guilt for all the times you've treated me unfairly?

Bruce: What? Name one time I hav-

Stephanie: Ahem. <Clears throats and takes out a long lost which rolls out to the edge of the room, title; 'All the times Batman has wrongfully wronged the amazing Stephanie Brown'>

Stephanie: It all began long ago when we first met, and you sicked your unreasonably handsome sidekick onto my innocent self.

Bruce: <;Tired sigh> Is this really necessary Steph?

Stephanie: Absolutely. In every conceivable way. Now where was I? Oh right, all the times you've wronged me.

Bruce: How long is this going to take?

Stephanie: At least all day, might have to come back tomorrow though.

Bruce: ...I'm leaving.

Alfred: Now, now, Master Bruce. It's little Miss Stephanie has put quite a bit of effort into her itinerary of grievances against you. The two of you have had an undoubtedly rather turbulent working relationship, perhaps granting her some catharise will do her some good.

Bruce: Ugh...

Stephanie: Thanks Alfred! Now back to the list... oh right, the first of many times you tried to order me to quit like you're the Bat-God of Vigilantes.

Bruce: If I double your budget will you just skip to the end?

Stephanie: No way, Bruce. This is long overdue.

<4 Hours Later>

Stephanie: Do you know how weird it was dating a dude I didn't even know the name of because you didn't let him? FYI Alvin Draper is almost as bad as Drake when it comes to Tim's aliases. I mean Draper? Way to be on the nose that it's a fake identity. The Alvin wasn't the best way to disguise his rich kid status either.

Stephanie: Seriously! I was like the only Robin until Damian who had actual prior experience you %(#$@!

Stephanie: ...and last but definitely not least, you dissed my favourite jacket. Uncool dude.

Bruce: Are you finally done?

Stephanie: ...

Stephanie: I guess I am. Man, that felt good to get that off my chest.

Bruce: While most of those were clearly just petty complaints you added solely for the purpose of making the list longer for dramatic effect, I do admit you have some... legitimate grievances.

Stephanie: Wait? You're... actually admitting that?

Bruce: Yes. And that's all I'll say today.

Stephanie: Works for me! I'll let you go brood on your totally unfair treatment of me... I'm still getting the funds right, by the way?

Bruce: ...

Stephanie: ...Bruce?

Bruce: Fine. But only because Alfred will stare at me disapprovingly if I back out now.

Stephanie: Yes! <Heads off to get suited up for her patrol>

Bruce: And Steph?

Stephanie: Hm?

Bruce: Keep giving them hell out there.

Stephanie: Don't need to remind me twice!

———————

Honestly this kinda went on for a bit longer than I intended. Was neat just going with the flow. Still am getting into comics and stuff so my apologies if I'm not too good yet with their dynamic.

#still a novice in terms of comics so my apologises if I'm still getting used to their characters #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #the spoiler #batman #batgirl #robin #wayne family adventures #wfa #headcanon #shitpost #incorrect quotes #batfamily #bat-family #incorrect batfamily quotes #tim drake #timsteph

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

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Am I the asshole for siding with my Dad and actively shit talking/giving points about things his wife is wrong for?

Using 🎸🎶 as my emojis so I don't get lost.

For context, I (17F) and my sisters (14F and 12F) have lived with divorced parents for the past almost 13 years, nearly our entire lives. Our Dad (38M) and our Mom (38F) got divorced long ago, and since both have been remarried and divorced. My dad is currently married to his third wife (37F) and things have gone to shit. They grew up together and reconnected through Facebook a while back and began to talk. Since early July, they reconnected around late June, we have; drove 40 hours to Ohio to see and meet Wife and her 3 daughters (15, 7 and 5 F), moved them down over 80 hours of back and forth with both pets and kids, lived in a small trailer house until we closed our half million dollar one, and now we live in an old 1940s house where Wife never has to work unless she wants to. My Dad provides for her and her three kids easily on his own due to owning a fraction of the company he works for, but money has been a little tight due to a lack of houses to work on and her excessive spending.

This morning was when it bubbled over. She woke him up 30 mins before he needed to have his trailer, and hour away to pick it up, and be in another city still 30 mins from there, to pick up a free dresser we do not have room for. While getting ready he was informed her two youngest did the dishes to ask for something, a habit they all have. And to be clear, they ONLY do chores to go places and do things, so the house is often trashed. My Dad boiled over after both things adding onto all the stress of caring for 8 people and only seeing his 3 kids 4 days a month, and it started a scream fight that she encouraged. She loves to rile him up and then play victim, and this time was no different. Despite being angry, he asks if she still wants to go get the dresser, and she says she won't ride with him even to talk it out or get the fifth dresser for their room. So me and my middle sister (14F, we'll call her D.) Go with. We get the trailer, get into town, and he calls to confirm the address. Rather than tell him, she plays hard to get to piss him off, and we leave instead, not getting the dresser and taking the trailer back. The entire way Dad, D and I air our grievances about the behavior of Wife and her kids, discussing habits we don't like and clarifying we aren't doing it to be mean. It turns out, she was also bitching about the laundry and how she does everything when I've only ever seen her do theirs and no other chores. My Dad offers to solve it by having his own basket for his own laundry and even cooking his own meals if that's what's bothering her. Instead, she takes off her wedding ring rather than accepting the solutions. We talks, discussing how yes, they've been through a lot, but so have we, and that doesn't excuse her behavior.

We get home and the fighting starts again rather quickly, we don't catch much before it dies out but he tries to reason with her. I paint and everyone is calm for a bit. Well, I'm sitting on my bed and the fighting starts again. D and I share a room right over the garage, where the fight was, and D drops to the floor to listen. Our Dad uses many of the points we brought up in the car, and it hits hard and rings true really. At some point Wife complains that we never talk to her, and Dad points out that she picks fights when we're here and we know what divorce sounds like and refuse to get attached. She calls him our for being married and divorced twice, and Dad gets petty and tells her he didn't have kids outside marriage. And finally she complains that we don't do anything, and my Dad points out that we're self sufficient and do everything when we're here. The fight continues, he keeps making points we all discussed on the way to and from the trailer and failed dresser retrieval, and he keeps bringing up the ring since he doesn't want to divorce again.

Anyways, its causing a rift and I haven't told anyone but my Mom that I helped supply points, but I just feel bad because I feel like I somehow made the fighting worse by mentioning all the shit she does and talks about him and us.

TLDR; Dad and new wife were fighting all day and my sister and I gave points and talked shit about what's been bothering us in the car and our Dad brought up those points in the fight.

So Tumblr, am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lotusparadisaea · 6 months

Text

I keep thinking about how Only Friends would've benefited from a longer run-time and how some specific things of the show could've been handled a lot better if that were the case so I'm writing them down to have them all out there.

Giving Top a personality.

I think one of my many grievances with the show (despite the fact that I like it a lot) it’s the fact that unlike other characters, Top doesn’t seem to have much development outside of his relationship with Mew. We get to learn a little about all these characters episode from episode, yet all we know about Top are throwaway things that are almost never mentioned again or instantly resolved, or don’t carry throughout the show.

For example, his drug use. We learn about his drug use and apparently, it’s immediately resolved once Mew offers to sleep with him to make him stop. He can, it seems, stop cold turkey. Although he seems to be a very “sentimental” user (he talks about being high when he’s alone or to have fun). This is never brought up again, not even when Mew starts using. Which I found weird? I thought maybe he would get back to it after he ended his relationship with Mew, or at least have a harder time deciding not to take it, yet his drug use was mentioned once, resolved instantly, never brought up again.

Then, the sleeping pills and his trauma, we get to learn why he uses him, his trauma around sleeping alone, yet we never really see him struggling with that, in that same scene Mew agrees to sleep with him, and then we see him deciding not to take them, calling Boeing instead. Yet. We never really see him struggle with not being able to sleep otherwise. He has PTSD about a traumatic event on his childhood and I think he, as a character, would’ve benefited from a scene where, after breaking up with Mew, and before calling Boeing, he tries to sleep alone and isn’t able to, maybe showing his discomfort, an anxiety episode or something similar. The worst thing is this scene exists, where he decides to take someone else home after he sees Mew and Ray but fails, he can’t have sex with them, he CRIES and has to tell them to go away, and YET THE SCENE WAS DELETED.

Just learn more things about him in general. We know Nick’s dreams of animation and Boston’s photography, we know Sand wants to travel the world and go to music festivals, damn, we even know Cheum’s girlfriend, April, who only shows up for like three episodes is going to film school and makes confusing indie short films, yet we don’t seem to know much about Top’s aspirations, dreams, likes and dislikes, other than the fact that he used to sleep around and now he’s in love with Mew.

Boeing showing up sooner.

Had Only Friends been a longer show not being cut short by the typical run-time of your average GMMTV BL, and it had, let’s say, 18 episodes (like other gmmtv shows such as PSIHY), Boeing’s appearance in the last stretch of the show could’ve been less rushed. He could’ve showed around episode 12 and still make chaos and ruin relationships for six episodes, instead of three episodes where we barely get to learn anything about him other than he deeply dislikes Top for having dumped him. Like, why is he trying to get on with everybody? What are his motivations? Does he just like the drama? Does he have an actual plan? Like I could say: Boeing deeply regrets leaving Sand for Top, he realizes he made a mistake as soon as Top dumps him, and since then he plans to get Sand back and ruin Top’s life. That could be a motive. But we don’t know much about him, not really.

And also, sooner as in: we should’ve had flashbacks of his and Sand and Top’s relationships. I know that would’ve ruined the reveal of the actor, but I think there are clever ways to show flashbacks of a relationship without showing the actor’s face if the reveal was so important. Right now, we see Sand being awkward around Boeing but never straight up saying no, why is he so hesitant? The whole show we’ve seen him being in love with Ray, what was his relationship with Boeing like? Why did it make him hate Top so much to enact a revenge plan on him, even knowing he could hurt the person he currently likes? Were things really that insane? We know they had plans together but that’s because we were told this episode, it would’ve been so much better if the change we see Sand have in Boeing’s presence had much more context.

Exploring more the different relationship and dynamics

Okay, I think the show does a great job at this but there are things that seem so out there, that aren’t really developed or that could’ve use deeper approaches.

The group friend: why are they even friends? Did they met in university and found out they were all queer and banded together? Why, if both Cheum and Mew find Boston’s sexual life so awful they stick around him? Why did Cheum act like Ray was the only one at fault in the whole raymew debacle when they’ve always known he has substance abuse problems and he’s in love with Mew? Why does she says Ray never cares about them and yet the first scene of the show it’s them poking fun at Ray for always telling them he loves them while he’s drunk and he’s drunk all the time? The whole friend group should’ve had a deeper approach, imho.

Ray and Mew: okay, so Ray is in love with Mew. Mew knows this. We know Mew stopped Ray from committing suicide and that deepen their vow. We know Mew chose to be with Ray because he wanted to hurt Top. We know Ray couldn’t say no to Mew, even though by that point he already liked Sand. Yet we barely have any scenes of them together. We hear from their friends that their relationship was a mess, as short as it was, but we only really get one episode showing it. The next episode they broke up and are really mature about it, which? Okay, fair, but what was really their relationship like? We had glimpses of it.

Cheum and literally anyone else other than Mew: she’s Mew’s ride or die apparently, but she’s supposed to be friends with all of them. She even says if she weren’t a lesbian she would choose Ray, yet we never see her being a good friend to any of them. She’s literally a better friend to Top that she ever was to both Ray and Boston.

No half-assed plots

Sometimes it feels like the show is trying to do too much and it isn't able to. Specially these last episodes. The whole Atom/Boston debacle could've been better if it had taken more episodes to develop. We don't see his "friends" ostracizing him other than the first confrontation, but like, they literally threw him off their thesis project, even if Boston is leaving, i think he would've been at least a little worried about not being able to graduate. Atom hasn't gotten any consequences, Cheum and Mew have not apologized. I feel like this plot should've been better executed.

Same thing goes for Mew's little "Reputation" era.

And other plot points like, apparently Sand and Ray were sleeping together all the time when Ray and Mew were together? But this was never shown, in fact, it was implied Sand was keeping his distance, trying his shot with Freddie #2, telling Ray he wasn't his rebound or second option ALL THAT WHILE STILL SLEEPING REGULARLY WITH HIM?? There's a lot of "tell and don't show" in the series and it falls flat because of it.

The things they did show are good, for example, Ray's drinking problem. When we finally reach the rehab plot it doesn't feel rushed or out of nowhere because we've seen Ray drink all the show.

More development for the main couples.

This is self-explanatory, but like Jojo himself said they had to cut scenes for ALL of them because of the run time. I feel like for a relationship/character driven show, sometimes it really seems affected for the short run time. There are scenes we see in previews we don’t get, scenes that are released ON TWITTER because they didn’t make it to the show and a lot more of depth in the book that in the show and if that’s not a clear sign that the show should’ve been longer idk what it is.

#only friends the series #ofts #only friends meta #sandray #topmew #bostonnick #needed to get this out of my head to study so here goes nothing

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wyldblunt · 8 months

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It is I, the previous anon unmasked. I have questions about the Mordrem Daimhin post: what caused them to give in to Mordy :0c

(the mordrem dav post in question, since i'm answering this late!) OKAY SO.... i initially intended for this to be a quick doodle answer but then as i started chewing on it i realized to answer this question i have to talk about. basically dav's entire life story. and i'm incapable of brevity. so oops, here's an illustrated essay about daimhin's entire life story?

let's talk it out. let's start with this.

let's say you awake a valiant of the wyld hunt, entwined with another -- same day, different cycle. you wake up promptly at midnight, go straight to his pod and sit outside it. he takes his sweet fucking time, sleeping WAY in, and only finally ambles his way out a few scant seconds before daybreak, yawning.

you've seen the same things, and neither of you know what any of it means; none of the images in your entwined dreams seem to actually crystallize into a task. but you glimpse a symbol that matches one day on a banner, find out it's the emblem of the order of whispers, and know that must be where you need to go. so you start training.

he trains half as hard for twice the results. he cares half as much and gets twice the rewards. there was an assumption, when you first woke, that the two of you would stay in lockstep forever -- you must be absolutely equal, if you share a destiny -- but it doesn't hold true for even a moment.

(of course, you don't know he feels the same exact way about you; you don't know about the gnawing bitterness, the envy, that you can learn anything by trying hard enough, while he feels hopeless about anything that doesn't fall within his raw talent. he hides it well, and you never ask.)

he makes it into the order on his first try. but they don't want you.

you're devastated. he's not. "there's no time limit," he says, breezy as always. and it's not like he'd leave you behind.

but it takes two more years. two years, for you to hone yourself into something the order of whispers wants. as little as donner ever seems to care about the hunt, how can he suppress the itching it when it comes, the agitation? how can he outrun the resentment, when you're holding him in place?

you don't talk about it. you just keep your head down and work harder. the fear of his impatience morphing into contempt is a stronger motivator than anything else you've tried so far.

when you get through, you get through, and then, finally, it feels like you'll be rewarded -- because almost immediately, you run into the next symbol from your dreams. the dark and terrible thief, towering, wreathed in smoke, and FINALLY things are going right because he takes a professional interest in you immediately, mentors you, assigns you to his own personal task squad (and this, alone, is enough to make up for everything you've suffered so far). but.

holding the lightbringer's attention is difficult; pleasing him is impossible. to impress him? a complete fantasy, one you can't even daydream about for too long without hurting your own feelings.

this is when everything was meant to even out, and instead you're competing again. not just with donner, either; even with the stupid necromancer he already had, the one who can barely keep herself alive and seems to have NO formal training whatsoever.

worst of all -- as humiliating as it is to put this particular juvenile grievance into words -- he doesn't even seem to like you.

you keep your head down. you work harder. if anything, that makes it worse; the squeaky wheel gets the oil, after all, and you never make a sound.

then he replaces you.

("no, he didn't," donner insists, one night shortly after merrit's introduction, when you're complaining about it; "replacing you would be if you were kicked out of the squad. there's just a second mesmer now, that's all.")

but that's not all. you're watching.

it's not even that glyndwr is any less strict with the new mesmer, any less harsh towards her; but he's attentive. at times, he even seems concerned about her. you hear him call them his "charge," once, to one of his contacts at the vigil; he has only ever called the rest of you his "agents." the first time he slips up and calls them his son, you realize the enormity of the gap between you.

and it's incomprehensible. you have learned, quickly, that merrit is cowardly and self-absorbed. his mesmerism is disorganized, improvised, unflattering, concerned only with survival. he takes the easy way out in missions, over and over, always without hesitation and seemingly without shame; worse than that, he seems baffled by your disapproval when you confront him about it.

donner can tell how unhappy they make you. maybe that's why he's always so cruel to them. you're selfish enough not to do anything about it, to even be a little pleased by these scraps of locker room vengeance.

you keep your head down. you work harder. acceptance of your position grows around your ribs and down your throat like a strangling vine.

eventually, you're all dispatched to maguuma.

it's horrible, but so was orr. it's lonely, but so is everything else in your life. but the commander is twitchy, agitated, scattered. he jumps at shadows. he lashes out at comrades. is he thinking about what his behavior brings on all your heads, when he acts like this?

is he thinking about you when rytlock brimstone calls him a liability, and he snaps entirely?

obviously not. because after brimstone bests him and spits in the dirt, calling this outburst just another piece of evidence --

he leaves.

he leaves you here.

he leaves you to die in the fucking jungle.

("no he hasn't," merrit insists, even though she's been crying and panicking just like the rest of you. he goes on and on about how it's not fair to call it abandonment, about how it must be part of some greater plan, all that bullshit, and now even damage can't stand him and there has to be some scrap of satisfaction in that, that you're not the only one who's sick to death of the commander's precious favorite, but there isn't, there's just--)

this can't be him. this person cannot be the one who took up so much of your dream, the one who's supposed to be your destiny. unless that's all your dream was ever meant to be. can a wyld hunt be so awful? can your purpose be to die horribly, thousands of miles from home?

(until now, you have been very, very good at ignoring the call.)

(it hasn't known you well enough to tempt you.)

but... couldn't it be, that the commander's role in your story is now complete?

maybe this is exactly where you need to be. and if so, he brought you this far, safe and sound.

you can forgive him for this. after all, how could he have known...? how important it was, how vital, to bring--

#mordremoth #mordrem #sylvari #gw2 #gw2 fan submission #my art #my ocs #drawn answers #daimhin #donner #viper squad #glyndwr #THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE ASK I LOVED DOING THIS.... sorry if it was more than u bargained for oops lol #HoT spoilers #also shoutout 2 spindlewit i used some of ur foliage brushes in here!! they rule!!

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roosterr · 4 months

Text

put me back in it

nikolai x gn!reader wc: 2.3k | ao3 summary: nikolai up and disappeared one day. you thought you'd never see him again, but then he shows up at your door in the middle of the night. warnings: angst, implied smut, kinda ex!nikolai, eventually happy ending

sometimes, on nights where sleep evades you, the memories of him creep back in from the corners of your mind, filling you with the same empty longing that ensnared you like barbed wire around your heart when he vanished all those months ago.

it’s nikolai, the one your thoughts always seem to wander to when you're not paying attention. he never told you his last name, you’re not even sure if that's actually his first, but it never mattered to you back then.

the night you met still brings a smile to your face. a concert, some obscure band you can't quite remember, where he'd spilled his drink over you and dampened your mood in an instant. with how apologetic he'd been, you found it hard to be annoyed with him, especially after he laid his jacket over your shoulders. he was by your side for the rest of the night, your grievances all but forgotten when his hand met the small of your back and the warmth of his body enveloped you.

you’d given the better part of a year to him, but he’d left you. slipped away in the middle of the night, while you were sleeping in the bed you shared more often than not, and that night was the last you heard from him. waking up alone, without so much as a note explaining why he disappeared, hurt you more than any explanation he could’ve given. no matter how many times you called him the line was always dead, every text left unseen. you resigned yourself to the fact that you would never get the closure your heart yearned for. eventually you stopped trying to reach him altogether.

it happened so fast, a romance so fleeting you’re not sure you have the right to be so torn up about it over a year after you first met – but still, you are. you still think about him when you watch the planes fly overhead, the streetlights against the night sky, and in the company taking up space in your bed as you gaze up at the ceiling.

the guy from the bar looks vaguely similar to nikolai, and that's admittedly why you'd taken him home with you, but the regret was sinking in now and you were already thinking up a way to kick him out as soon as possible.

the sound of a heavy pounding on your door breaks the silence. your companion makes no indication he's even still awake, the arm laid over your abdomen feeling more like deadweight than anything else.

"i'll get it," you mumble, mostly to yourself, tossing his arm to the mattress and pushing yourself up. you feel blindly for a shirt, finding one on the floor by your closet you're sure used to be his, and you don't particularly want to wear it but the knocking has increased in intensity and doesn't seem like it'll stop anytime soon.

so, with an airy sigh, you make for the front door, grabbing your robe as you leave your bedroom to slip over your half-dressed form, and calling out as you turn on the light in the entryway, "i'm coming, shut up!"

in your exhausted state, it slips your mind to check the peephole before you swing the door open and frown at whoever is on the other side. if you had, perhaps you wouldn't have opened it in the first place.

your muscles seize up, and in an instant it's like you're paralysed, one hand on the door and the other holding your robe together, scarcely even breathing as you lock eyes with the man in front of you.

it's nikolai.

his hair is a mess and his stubble is more grown out than you'd ever seen it, as if he had no time to fix his appearance before coming here, but he's no less beautiful even after all this time. the way his chest rises and falls indicates that he'd been running, and you can tell he's holding something behind his back.

your eyes narrow as you meet his, in curiosity or malice you're not quite sure. his brows are knitted in what could only be regret as he opens his mouth, but by now your sense has returned to you and you go to slam the door in his face. it doesn't shut, and you look down to see his boot wedged in the frame, his free hand coming up to push it back open as you gape at him.

he whispers your name, so softly it barely reaches your ears, but you hear it and the familiar shiver it sends down your spine scares you more than anything.

"let me explain," he's pleading, his gaze earnest as those endless brown eyes stare into yours. you stop trying to close the door on him, against your better judgement, and let him push it open once more.

"what could you possibly have to say that would excuse what you did?" you hiss, igorging the tremble in your bottom lip. you fold your arms tightly over your chest as he eyes fall guiltily to the floor. "it's been seven months, i thought you were dead, nikolai!"

"i will tell you everything, солнышка, please, just let me in." he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically weak as he leans against your doorframe. his smoky scent reaches you all at once, a wave of nostalgia crashing over you from simply standing so close to him.

your heart constricts, that barbed wire he left there making itself known again, but you take a step back anyway. you don't look at him as he crosses over the threshold, closing the door behind him and making a beeline for the living room without meeting his eyes once. you hear him remove his boots before he trails after you, and curse him for being so considerate.

the crinkle of plastic meets your ears as he follows, and you turn around to see him bringing a small bouquet of roses out from behind his back. the quiet of the night buzzes in your ears, unable to tear you eyes away from the crimson petals as he holds them out to you, and the way the light from the hall illuminates him from behind. the thought crosses your mind that you should reject them, but you can’t bring yourself to. you take them from him, careful not to let your hands touch, and set them gently on the coffee table.

you sink into the corner of the couch while he does the same at the opposite end, the distance sending another aching twinge through your heart. despite the pain that he put you through, the resentment you hold for him, you still longed to be comforted in his arms, for him to hold you close like before.

"explain, then." you murmur, his gaze causing goosebumps to ripple across your skin as you curl into yourself. the anger has left your voice, replaced by the never-ending tiredness that he left you with.

he clears his throat, something nervous in his body language. it's unnatural, so unlike him that it rubs off on you too when you hear it in his voice, "i’m sorry, my love–"

"don’t." the endearment still gives you butterflies, even though you know it shouldn't, and you wish it didn't.

"i couldn’t– you would have been in danger if i stayed with you, i couldn’t do that to you." he leans forward, his elbows on his knees, the crease between his brows deepening with every word.

"what do you mean danger?" you frown again, sitting up straight in disbelief and slight unease from the seriousness of his expression. he purses his lips and looks away from you. "nikolai?"

"i’m…" he pauses, running a hand through his hair. his obvious anxiety only feeds into your own as you wait for him to continue, subconsciously leaning closer to him. "i am a dangerous man, солнышка. i make a lot of enemies."

your heart stutters at that, a fear creeping in from the corners of your mind – not for yourself, but for him. "you’re not explaining anything. just tell me, nik."

there's another pause. he shuffles closer again, meeting your eyes with a look that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

"i’m a mercenary." he finally admits. it was a surprise, of course, but you couldn't help but feel like it made sense. all the secrecy you'd looked past before, working odd hours but never telling you more, even when you'd pried.

he moves closer again, letting his hand rest next to yours on the cushion. you feel the warmth radiating from him, and your fingers twitch with the effort of keeping them still.

"i work with dangerous people, special forces…" he lets his voice trail off, taking in the shock of your expression. "we fight terrorists, my love, people who would do anything to hurt us."

you scoff, humourless and a lot more defeated than you intended, "so you thought you’d disappear in the middle of the night? let me think you hated me?"

a shaky breath escapes him, his hand finally closing the distance and covering yours. you can't even bring yourself to think you should stop him anymore, the part of you that's missed him for all these lonely months wins over easily and you lean even more into his touch.

"i never wanted to hurt you, милая, i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you." he murmurs, barely any space between you now but he still doesn't push you past what you're ready for. "i never should've left you like that, and i'm so sorry that i did."

"why’re you telling me all of this now?" you whisper. your uncertain gaze meets his and it's like the rest of the world has faded away. his shadow covers you and you lean even closer, feeling his breath fanning over your face.

"because my life isn’t complete without you." his eyes search yours, his free hand coming up to run his fingers along your jaw in a featherlight touch that leaves your skin tingling in his wake. "you have every right to hate me, but i have loved you for every moment we were apart."

it's involuntary when you lean into his hand, his palm cupping your cheek so tenderly as the whisper of his name passes your lips, "nik…"

his forehead touches yours and any opposition you had to letting him near you again is forgotten. "please, let me make things right, my love."

instead of responding, you push forward and close the final gap by pushing your lips against his with a desperation that he easily reciprocates. he sighs into your mouth, shifting his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you impossibly closer, tiling his head for a better angle. it's sweet and passionate, and it takes you back to when you first met him, the bittersweet memory bringing the sting of tears to your eyes.

you pull back after a moment, your breathing laboured and your eyes glassy as they flutter back open. he smiles softly when you bring your own hand up to cradle his face, leaning back slightly to meet your gaze.

"i'm not forgiving you," you start, stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. you watch his eyes widen at your words and his smile falter, and you quickly continue, "but, i am willing to give you a second chance."

his grin returns, and he presses his lips to your cheek in a lingering kiss. "i will never hurt you like that again, милая." he murmurs in your ear, giving your nape a gentle squeeze where his hand still rests.

the tension between you is gone, he feels comforting and safe, like he always had before; everything feels right again.

the spell is broken unceremoniously by the guy from the bar – who you'd, somewhat embarrassingly, completely forgotten about – piping up from the doorway, "who the hell is that?"

"fuck–!" you startle, parting from nikolai and staring wide-eyed at his silhouetted form over nik's shoulder. he's staring the two of you down with a look that's a lot more offended than you think it should be, considering you only met a few hours prior and he hadn't been significant enough for you to even remember his name.

with a tired groan you drag a hand down your face, securing your robe across your front as you stand. he's dressed, thankfully, so you pinch the bridge of your nose and wave him off noncommittally, "can you just go?"

he scoffs and throws his arms out to the side in annoyance, taking a step towards you as he spits, "seriously? you're just gonna–"

nikolai interrupts his complaining by standing to his full height, towering over the man as he puts a hand out to stop him in his tracks. it works, and whatever he was planning on saying immediately dying on his tongue as he looks up at nik.

the silence in the room is stifling as your eyes dart between the two men, but it's short-lived. nik takes a menacing step towards him, and though you can't see his face, you're sure he's wearing a deadly expression to match.

it takes less than a second for him to cut his losses, quickly backing out into the hall and fumbling hurriedly with your front door. nik follows him as he leaves, making a show of slamming and locking the door behind him.

he turns off the hall light before returning to you, bathing the two of you in darkness and strips of pale moonlight. your skin bristles as his fingers gaze your sides, his thick arms finding their way around your back as your hands rest at his collar.

"no need for cheap imitations," he utters, low and sultry, the vibrations of his voice felt under your palms, "you have me now, мои люблю."

#nikolai cod x reader #cod nikolai #nikolai mw2019 #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai x reader #cod x reader #mw3 x reader #141 x reader #nikolai mwiii #nikolai mw3 #nikolai my beloved #roosterr writes

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thepervymermaid · 1 year

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Hi I'm crazy about Xiao Blub. Can I get something else like that? I'm crazy about a Xiao like that. 💗

I'm so glad you liked it! Here's sum more! Reader is a little meanie in this one :)

Another Xiao Blurb

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Xiao being a bit intense, reader is mean

“Come to bed,” You feel a sense of satisfaction when Xiao stares at you in surprise, his previous activity of sharpening his polearm forgotten. His eyes stare up and down your form for a moment, like his searching for something, before he gives you a cautious look.

“...no,” You roll your eyes and move closer to him, putting him on edge, something you don’t see often. You can’t quite blame the guy, can you? You're going out of your way to not only talk to him, but you actually want him in bed with you… it’s suspicious, and a part of him figures this might be another one of your attempts to kill him or escape.

“Can you relax? I’m not armed or anything,” You gesture to the kitchen, “All the knives are there, you can check,” He still doesn’t seem convinced. You sigh in annoyance, “Archons, just come to bed, Xiao. I’m tired and you always throw a fit if I don’t sleep with you. I don’t want to hear it. Can you listen to me this once, or do I have to die from lack of sleep? Is this how you plan to torture me for not returning your affection all those times? Your awful, as if kidnapping me wasn’t enough-”

“Alright,” He quickly interrupts your rant, a brief look of guilt on his face as he puts his polearm down. Once again you feel satisfied with yourself. As much as you like insulting him and everything he stands for, that doesn’t have any real effect on him. He doesn’t really care that you don’t like it here, you’ll learn to eventually. He doesn’t mind that you can’t stand to be in the same room as him, he just loves being in your presence even if it’s spent with you hurling insults at him.

No, the one thing that gets to him is his guilt. He doesn’t deserve you but he wants you more than anything else. He needs you, but he shouldn’t be with you. Yet here you are. You’ve learned over time, the easiest way to get under his skin is to air your grievances. You’re not as fragile as he likes to think, but if acting like a suffering victim hurts him, then you’ll cry crocodile tears if you must. Anything, to make him feel even a fraction of the frustration you do.

You give him a sad look, not really feeling much of anything but scorn for his existence, “Was that so hard? Do you hate me that muc-”

“No!” You're startled when he grabs your arms, a look of panic and desperation crossing his features. His eyes are glossy as if he wants to cry, but nothing comes out. You wince when his grip tightens and shrink into yourself under his intense gaze, “Don’t say that, don’t even think that. I love you. I’d do anything for you so please… don’t,” His hands are shaking slightly and you realize you might’ve pushed a little too much, “Don’t say that… I can prove it… I’ll prove it to you, right now.”

“N-no, it’s fine. I was just teasing…” You can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes you, and you grab his hands, gently urging them to let you go. It takes a few moments for him to get his mind right, his gaze focused on your unblinkingly and lost before he seems to regain some reasoning.

“Ah… sorry… Let’s go to bed,” He pulls away, staring at you for a few more seconds, “I love you. Please don’t doubt me again.” Then he’s off to the bedroom, as if nothing happened, leaving you a little more than disturbed in the hallway.

Somehow you feel less keen on pushing his buttons.

#yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere male #yandere #yandere xiao #yandere x reader

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allmoshnobrain · 1 month

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 04 of 06 | masterpost

word count: 7,2k | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I felt full, something I hadn't experienced since he’d walked out on me all those years ago. In the end, it was him — only him — that I needed in my life, his presence washing away any lingering pain I may carry. In that moment, I realized I was utterly lost; like Eve after taking a bite of the apple, I knew I could never be the same again after falling for Dave Mustaine.

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, mxf sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, drug issues mentioned, recreational drug use, drinking

✦ a/n: Hey everyone, I'm back! Sorry for the longer wait this time, buuuut check it out — this part right here is the longest I've ever written for this fic, lol. It's all about Dave and Nore this time, but don't worry, James will be back in the next one. Hope you enjoy the read, and feel free to give me any feedback! ❤

✧ All along I believed I would find you / Time has brought your heart to me / I have loved you for a thousand years / I'll love you for a thousand more ✧

March 20, 1992

The weeks that followed were a crazy rollercoaster ride of emotions, swinging back and forth between moments of sheer joy and heart-wrenching pain.

The heartache was all because of James and his stubborn determination to shut me out. No matter how hard I tried to reach him, he just kept slipping through my fingers, ignoring my calls and voicemails like they were yesterday's news. I knew he always needed some space after our blowouts, but his radio silence only made me feel even more miserable. All I wanted was for him to understand how crucial it was for me to patch things up with Dave, but getting that across to James felt like trying to solve a Rubik's Cube in the dark. And with each passing year, it seemed like he was building higher walls around himself, burying himself deeper in his anger and his grief, leaving me feeling utterly lost.

Amidst all the drama with James, there was a shining beacon of hope in my days: Dave. Since our reunion, he'd become a constant presence in my life once again. There were few grievances that could resist nearly a decade of longing; as we reconnected, the pain and uncertainty of our past faded into the background, replaced by a feeling of warmth and contentment. Losing Dave had left a gaping hole in my heart, but finding him again reminded me that I wasn't alone in my struggles. He, too, had gone through his own share of tough times while we were apart. Together, we found comfort in each other's company, and our bond just kept getting stronger with each passing day.

After that first kiss, I couldn't help but keep gravitating back into his arms. We fell into a routine of seeing each other practically every day, squeezing in time between my acting gigs and Dave's life as a musician. If Dave was already sweet when we were younger, now that he was rolling in money from his music career, my place turned into a constant shrine of his love. Every day, there'd be a new batch of flowers — chrysanthemums, roses, sunflowers, tulips, lavenders — each carefully chosen to brighten up my place. It was like living in a fragrant dream, like my heart had decided to blossom right there in his presence.

But his affection wasn't just about the gifts. Almost every night, I'd find myself welcoming him into my home or heading over to his apartment. We weren't big on going out, preferring to just chill together, maybe have dinner or simply chat, lounging on the couch with our fingers intertwined and my head nestled against his shoulder. Whatever was brewing between us felt so special, so fresh, that we kind of wanted to keep it all to ourselves. I mean, I knew once we started parading around in public, everyone would catch on to the fact that we were together, and honestly, I wasn't quite ready for that. Dave felt the same way. We both agreed to keep our little love bubble just between us for just a little while longer.

Of course, there was this undeniable desire bubbling between us. It lingered in the long, passionate kisses we shared, in how he always reached out to touch me whenever we were together, in the little sighs that escaped me when his lips trailed from mine to my neck, in the fire I saw burning with increasing intensity in his hazel eyes.

But, even as the fire inside me burned hotter and hotter, I couldn't shake this newfound shyness. I mean, as an actress pushing 30, I'd say I'd mostly outgrown my shy phase from back in the day. But whenever he was around, it was like that bashful girl came roaring back to life, leaving me blushing and hesitant every time his body pressed against mine.

Dave was patient, as he had always been; now that everything between us was crystal clear, he was practically glued to my side, wearing this grin that mirrored my own happiness. The more we hung out, the more it solidified in my mind: I still loved him. And the fact that he seemed to feel the same felt like a little miracle, a light of joy and certainty amidst all the chaos in my life.

That Friday night played out just like the ones before it: Dave rolled up to my place right on the dot at 8 p.m., holding a gorgeous bunch of violets and daisies. But this time, he came bearing even more goodies — a pizza box in one hand and a bottle of wine tucked under his arm, which had me scrambling to help before he dropped something and disaster struck.

"Hey," I greeted him with a smile, taking the pizza box from him. With his hand free, he slipped it around my waist, pulling me in close and planting a kiss on my lips that sent me giggling, my cheeks flushing with warmth.

"Hey," he whispered against my lips, his smile melting into mine. "I've got some movies rented for us. And I brought some joints too, they're out in the car."

"So, you've got our evening all planned out?" I teased, and he chuckled, his hazel eyes twinkling as he kissed my temple. "Well, don't just stand there, come on in."

I headed to the kitchen and set the pizza box down on the table. Dave trailed behind me, and I gave him a hand with the wine bottle before he handed over the bouquet.

"I brought you some different flowers this time," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. I took a whiff, smiling at the sweet scent of the bouquet. Dave reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You like them?"

"I absolutely adored them, Dave. Thanks," I answered, letting out a surprised gasp as he pulled me in by the waist, cradling my chin gently in his hand before kissing me. His tongue pressed against my lips, coaxing them to part, and I couldn't help but surrender to his kiss with a contented sigh.

I shut my eyes, relishing the familiar scent of him and the warmth of his body pressed against mine. He set the bouquet down on the table without breaking our kiss, then drew me in close again, his hand resting gently on the small of my back. Dave's presence stirred something inside us both, a slow-burning fire that we couldn't ignore, an undeniable longing to be close to each other. And oh, how I craved him, with a passion that felt almost overwhelming, leaving me utterly breathless.

He trailed kisses down to my neck, mixing in little nips that sent shivers down my spine. I tangled my fingers in his hair, closing my eyes and melting into his embrace as I tilted my head back. He held me closer, his hands firm on my hips, and a low, breathy moan escaped my lips. He chuckled softly against my skin, planting a tender kiss on my lips before pulling away.

"I should probably grab the stuff from the car," he murmured, stepping back. I blinked, feeling a bit confused, my heart still racing, my skin tingling with warmth, trying to push aside the unexpected twinge of insecurity creeping in.

"Here," Dave returned, lugging a stack of movies. "I grabbed Star Wars 'cause you said you liked it. And the other one... Hey, you okay?" I blinked up at him, snapping out of my reverie, my brow furrowed as I stared at the flowers on the table. Dave came closer, brushing his fingers against my cheek. "Did I mess up the kiss or something?"

"Of course not," I reassured him with a soft smile.

"Then tell me," he whispered, his lips so close to mine, his breath tickling my cheek. "Hey. Let's not keep stuff bottled up, alright? I don't want us drifting apart again over this."

"It's just... Do you not wanna... y'know, fuck me?" I blurted out, feeling my cheeks flush as I saw Dave's eyes widen a bit in surprise. I glanced away, feeling embarrassed, and he let out a soft chuckle.

"Sweetheart, where'd you get that idea?" he asked, running his fingers through my hair before gently tilting my chin up, making me meet his gaze.

"We were kissing, and then you bailed. I just... thought..." I trailed off as Dave grinned, shaking his head.

"Do you really think I wouldn't want you?" he murmured, his voice low and husky, his fingers trailing down my neck to my collarbone, moving with a gentle touch. "Do you think I don't wake up every day feeling like I'm living a dream now that you're back? I want you. But this is all new territory for me too..." He paused, letting out a sigh as I cupped his face in my hands, running my fingers over his features, captivated by how his expression softened under my touch. "I've had some rough relationship experiences, you know?" he continued. "And I don't wanna risk messing things up with you, babe. I don't wanna rush into anything."

"Some relationships?" I queried, intrigued by the plural. It was kind of weird to think about it, but of course, over all those years, Dave must've been with other people. I blinked, feeling an unexpected pang of jealousy creeping into my chest.

"Getting a bit jealous, huh?" he teased, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. I huffed, rolling my eyes, and he chuckled. "I can tell you about them if you're curious... But can we eat first? I'm starving."

"Sure thing, let's chow down," I chuckled, snagging the flowers Dave had left on the table to put in a vase. "Just gotta give these babies a home first, right?"

After fixing up my new bouquet on the windowsill, I joined Dave at the table, and we both tucked into some pizza. Dave let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes as he savored the first bite.

"Someone's starving," I teased, shooting him a grin. He chuckled.

"Well, I've been stuck in the studio all day. Builds up an appetite, you know?"

"Well, spill the beans. Any other lucky ladies in your life?" I grinned, and he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"You really dying to know that?"

"If you're up for sharing. Just curious," I shrugged. He smiled, letting out a soft sigh as he reclined in his chair.

"Alright, let's hear it. Where do I begin? So many lovers, I'm lost," he chuckled, a playful tone lacing his words, and I huffed, which earned a soft laugh from him. "Just teasing, babe. Alright, let's see, after we split… I had a thing for a couple months with that chick James used to hang out with from the record store, remember the blonde one?"

"Wait a sec," I interjected, eyebrows knit in confusion. "You're not talking about Pat, are you?"

"You remember her?" he asked, sounding surprised. I rolled my eyes, caught off guard.

"Of course I remember! That whole mess between us might've been avoided if she hadn't decided to feed you a load of crap," I remarked, giving him a puzzled look. "I had no clue you two were together at some point."

"Together is generous. It was more like just fucking. Ended when I found out she was messing around with my guitarist as well. So, naturally, I had to give him the boot... It was a whole thing," Dave explained, nonchalantly. He smirked a little at my incredulous face. "I mean, she was pissed at you and James, and I was too. Seemed like a good idea at the time, you know?"

"Oh, yeah, what a brilliant idea. Already regretting asking," I grumbled, and he chuckled, squeezing my hand, his fingers lacing with mine.

"You mad at me?" he grinned softly, though there was a glint of worry in his eyes.

"Course not. But if this is how your love life kicked off after we split, I don't even wanna picture the rest," I muttered, and he burst into laughter.

"Well, it got a bit better after that... I think. I mean, then I met Diana. We were together a few years. Actually thought I was gonna marry her," he confided, then smiled softly at my intrigued expression.

"And why didn't you?" I asked.

"She wasn't you," he said simply, and I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks. He chuckled, raking a hand through his hair. "And truth be told, we weren't the best match. I... I cheated on her. A lot. And she wasn't exactly faithful either. After we split, I dated around, but nothing ever got serious," he confessed, meeting my eyes with a faint smile. "Enough to quench your curiosity?"

"Guess so," I mumbled, staring at my hands. Dave's romantic history over the past few years sounded oddly similar to mine, a series of dead-end relationships and heartaches. I chewed on my lip, a rush of insecurity washing over me, but realizing why he wanted to take things slow between us; as happy as we were to find each other again, we both had our own baggage to unpack.

"And what about you?" he asked, pulling me back from my thoughts. I glanced up, meeting his inquisitive gaze. "You mentioned you and James split... When did that go down?"

I sighed, nibbling on my lip. Discussing my thing with James had become a touchy subject lately. Dealing with the growing distance between us wasn't easy, but I knew exactly where it all had begun.

"We didn't make it long after Cliff... passed," I admitted. Dave reached over to grab my hand again, giving it a comforting stroke. "It tore us apart, all of us. But it was tough 'cause... James has always been a big part of my life. We gave getting back together a shot a few times, but it never stuck," I said with a faint smile, shaking my head. "Didn't have any epic romances after that. Just some short flings and a bunch of casual stuff that left me feeling like love wasn't worth the hassle. And then..." I looked up, locking eyes with Dave, who was studying my face intently.

"And then?" he asked softly. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, a small smile playing on my lips.

"Then you found me," I finished, and Dave's smile widened, his eyes softening with a warmth that melted my heart.

"I'm glad I did," he murmured, rising from the table and gently running his fingers through my hair before leaning in to plant a kiss on my forehead. I let out a soft chuckle, holding his face in my hands and giving him a light peck on the lips. Dave wrinkled his nose, a grin spreading across his face, clearly pleased. "Your kiss tastes like pizza," he teased, and I rolled my eyes in mock annoyance.

"Shut it, Mustaine," I shot back, and he chuckled before stepping away to gather the plates from the table and wash them. I got up to help him tidy the table. "Still up for that movie?”

"Sure. You wanna pick?" he said, passing me the stack of videotapes. I glanced over the movies Dave had brought: Star Wars, like he’d said, plus a couple of action flicks, and one I was pretty familiar with.

"Hey, remember when we caught this on my birthday once?" I grinned, holding up the cover of one of Indiana Jones’ movies. Dave smiled back, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Course, I remember. How could I forget? Your folks gave you that badass motorcycle, right? And I got you a necklace as a gift."

"I still have it," I admitted, grinning. "Kept safe in my jewelry box."

"I didn't think you'd hold onto it," Dave replied, softly. I smiled, stepping closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and planting a gentle kiss on his jawline.

"Did you think I'd toss away the only thing I had left from you?" I whispered, and he let out a soft sigh, his eyes locking onto mine with intensity as he cupped my face in his hand.

"We better dive into this movie before I change my mind about taking things slow," he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips, and I let out a gentle laugh.

The rest of the night sailed by smoothly; we cozied up to watch the movie, sipping on wine and enjoying a few of the joints Dave had brought along. As the movie neared its end and our stomachs started rumbling again, we seized the chance to polish off a bit more of the pizza.

As the credits started rolling, I felt my eyelids drooping, more relaxed and at ease than I had been in ages as I nestled into Dave's lap, my head resting on his shoulder while he held onto my waist tight.

"I gotta head out," he finally murmured, and I grumbled softly, burying my face in his chest.

"You don't have to," I replied, and he laughed tenderly. I pulled back, meeting his hazel eyes, mirroring the unease I felt: we both knew that staying apart was way harder now that we'd finally found each other again. "Can't you crash here?"

"Wish I could, but you know I got that flight tomorrow, right?" he asked gently, and I let out a sigh. Of course, I remembered; Dave was jetting off the next day for a string of shows that'd keep him busy for two weeks. It was a quick tour, but I was already feeling his absence. Dave seemed to sense the same because he lifted my chin, nudging it up a bit so I'd meet his eyes. "Why don't you come along? I'm sure we can sort something out."

"I can't. Got a shareholders' powwow at my folks' company this weekend... Plus, I'm gearing up to start filming that TV series. Gonna be one hell of a week," I sighed, then flashed a soft smile. "But it'll be alright. You'll ring me, yeah?"

"Of course, babe. Every day. I swear," he promised.

April 3rd, 1992

The next few days zipped by with all my stuff going on. Things stayed pretty much the same; James and I still weren't talking, and it was really getting to me. Dave stayed true to his word and called me; even though we didn't have much time to chat with everything going on, we managed to touch base at least a bit every day, which put a smile on my face as I tackled my busy schedule.

Despite my worries about James, Dave being around made me feel a bit better, a subtle kind of happiness that brightened up my days like the sun on a spring morning. Then, the weekend before Dave's return started creeping closer. I had just arrived home, completely wiped out after a long day of shooting before finally getting a few days off, when I heard my phone start ringing. I grinned, eager to chat with Dave and hear about his day, but it wasn't his voice on the other end that greeted me when I answered the call.

"Hello? Can I speak with Nore Burton, please?" came a hesitant voice through the line. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Hey, it's me. Who's that?" I replied.

"Oh, hey. Marty here, Marty Friedman," the voice introduced itself, though it didn't ring any immediate bells. "I jam with Dave in Megadeth..."

"Oh. Is everything alright with him? Did something go down?" I asked, a hint of worry creeping into my tone. The past couple of weeks had seen Dave and I settle into a rhythm, one that hadn't been disturbed until this moment. It wasn't like him to miss a call, let alone have one of his bandmates reach out instead. I wasn't exactly fond of receiving bad news over the phone, but I attempted to soothe my nerves; perhaps it wasn't anything that serious. Maybe he was just tied up and didn't want to leave me hanging without updates.

"Uh, yeah, he’s doing okay,” Marty chimed in, eager to ease my mind. "But things have been kinda rough for him... He slipped up yesterday, and he's been mentioning you so much that our producer thought it might be cool to reach out, see if you'd be up for spending the weekend with him..."

"Wait a sec. What do you mean, he slipped up?" I interjected, feeling a bit puzzled.

"Oh, shit. He didn't clue you in, huh?" Marty's tone shifted, a touch of tension creeping in. "Well, he just got out of rehab not too long ago. And you know, the whole touring grind can be brutal. I guess he was really missing you, and it kinda got to him."

I blinked, caught off guard. Dave hadn't breathed a word about hitting rehab, let alone wrestling with any sort of substance issue. I flashed back to our last hangout, where we'd shared a drink and a smoke, nothing too wild. Maybe Marty was hinting at something more hardcore than just booze or weed, but I brushed it off; Dave needed me, plain and simple. I couldn't stand the thought of not being there for him.

"Marty," I said, firmly. "Where are you guys crashing this weekend?"

April 4th, 1992

I showed up early at the gig spot where Megadeth was set to rock out, a massive concert hall, a far cry from the dingy dives we used to hang at back in the day. I was feeling a bit worn out from the last-minute flight, but as the moment to see Dave drew nearer, my exhaustion morphed into an excitement that made it tough to focus on anything else.

I linked up with Marty at the venue entrance, about an hour before showtime. It was cool finally putting a face to the voice: Marty turned out to be shorter than I'd pictured, sporting a wild mane of curls cascading down his back and a warm grin.

"Hey there. You must be Nore," he greeted with a friendly grin, and I returned it as we shook hands. "How was the flight?"

"Hey, Marty," I smiled back. "It was smooth, thanks. So, where's Dave?"

"Oh, he's buzzing around, getting stuff sorted for the gig. He's clueless you're here," Marty chuckled, and I joined in softly. Keeping my arrival under wraps from Dave had been my little scheme. I didn't want him stressing about it, but I was also itching to see the look on his face when he found out. "Come on, let's go surprise him."

We navigated through the backstage area, which was pure pandemonium, just as I expected with less than an hour to showtime. Roadies hustled, instruments and equipment being shuffled around everywhere. In the midst of the chaos, I couldn't help but notice a gaggle of girls who clearly weren't part of the crew. They stood on the sidelines, watching the frenzy with giggles and hushed chatter. Groupies weren't anything new on the Metallica tours I used to attend, and I was used to their presence, but I couldn't help but furrow my brow when I caught them exchanging glances and whispers as soon as they spotted me, their excitement morphing into something more cautious.

"What's with all the hush-hush?" I inquired, more intrigued than worried, directing my question to Marty. He glanced around, momentarily puzzled, before catching onto the girls' gossip and bursting into a hearty laugh.

"Ah, they're a bit miffed 'cause Dave's been giving zero attention to any of the ladies on this tour. Now he's always talking about you; reckon some of them are feeling a tad put out."

"Oh," I murmured, feeling a flush creeping up my cheeks. I hadn't even considered the presence of other girls on Dave's tours, but Marty's tidbit had my stomach doing somersaults, a newfound sense of assurance spreading through me.

We finally reached a quieter backstage area, a secluded corridor lined with closed doors. Marty and I made our way to one of them; upon stepping inside, I found myself in one of the dressing rooms, complete with a stocked fridge and cozy sofas strewn about. A guy, clutching a pair of drumsticks and sporting a ponytail of dark, flowing locks, rose from his seat at the sight of us.

"Hey, Marty! Who's the hottie?" he greeted, flashing me a smile as soon as he caught sight of me. I felt my cheeks heat up, instinctively taking a step back, but Marty swiftly positioned himself between us.

"Pipe down, Nick. This is Dave's lady," Marty retorted, and Nick's eyebrows shot up, his demeanor instantly turning guarded. Marty let out a sigh, turning to me. "Nore, meet Nick, our drummer. He's always a bit like this, don't pay him no mind."

"Hey," Nick called out from a distance, and I returned his greeting with a slight smile. "Sorry 'bout the 'hot' comment. Please don't tell Dave, I don’t want him to kick me in the nuts," he added, looking genuinely worried, which almost made me laugh.

Before I could answer Nick, the dressing room door swung open, drawing our attention. I couldn't help but smile as Dave strolled in, deep in conversation with a familiar face: David Ellefson, whom I'd crossed paths with years ago in Los Angeles.

"I don’t give a shit if he thinks we're idiots, I just… Nore?" Dave's voice trailed off abruptly as he caught sight of me, his expression shifting to one of disbelief. I offered a nervous but hopeful smile, my heart thumping in my chest as our gazes locked. He made his way over to me in quick strides, seeming unsure how to react. "Holy crap, what are you doing here?”

"I came to see you," I murmured softly. Dave's expression lit up with delight, and without a moment's hesitation, he pulled me into a kiss, his hands cradling my face tenderly. A surprised gasp escaped me as he drew me closer, wrapping me in a tight embrace before eventually releasing me. Stepping back, I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and my breath coming in uneven bursts. "Dave!" I exclaimed, my heart still racing as I glanced around, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. But Marty, David, and Nick all seemed to be suddenly engrossed in anything but our interaction. Dave chuckled.

"Sorry 'bout that. Couldn't help it," he murmured, gently running his fingers through my hair, and I couldn't help but smile back.

The show kicked off before I knew it; I found myself perched near the stage, snagging a spot where I could catch all the action without getting underfoot. Watching Dave do his thing was mesmerizing; sure, I knew one or two Megadeth songs, but I'd never mustered the guts to catch 'em live. Dave upstage had this magnetic energy all his own, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I was genuinely pumped to be at a gig.

After the show wrapped up, the whole team congregated backstage to toast to a job well done, while the guys took the chance to rinse off and swap out their sweaty gear. I thought about snagging a beer, though I didn't intend on throwing back too many; my main goal was to keep Dave's spirits up, not to get plastered myself. As I made my way toward one of the coolers stocked with drinks, I accidentally collided with someone. I jumped, nearly losing my footing, but the person caught me just in time.

"Whoops, my bad," the guy flashed me a grin, and I recognized him as one of the sound techs, a dude a few years younger than me with dark hair, a set of dimples and dark eyes that practically screamed interest when he spotted me. "Hey there, I don't think we've met. I'm Brad. You new around here?"

"Uh, well..." I started, but before I could get another word out, I felt a reassuring weight on my shoulder. Glancing up, I spotted Dave, who had slung an arm around me, drawing me into a protective hug.

"Hey babe," Dave greeted, though his focus seemed locked onto Brad, who appeared to shrink a bit under his gaze. "Everything cool over here? You need anything?"

"Uh, I... I was just grabbing a beer, Dave. It's all good," I responded, feeling a slight flush creeping into my cheeks.

"Hey, Brad. Grab my girlfriend a beer, would you?" Dave's voice took on a hint of authority as he addressed Brad, his eyes still fixed on the younger man's face, a small smile playing at his lips. My stomach fluttered with a whirlwind of emotions, my heart racing. Even though we'd been seeing each other for weeks, it was the first time Dave had called me that.

"Ah... Sure thing, boss," Brad stuttered, swiftly turning to fetch a couple of beers. He handed them over to me and Dave before making a quick exit. I glanced up at Dave, who watched Brad go with a furrowed brow and tight lips.

"You alright?" I inquired softly. Finally, he turned his attention to me, his expression softening as he offered a smile.

"Yeah, I'm good. How 'bout you? Enjoy the show?" he asked, and I nodded, returning his smile. "Let's grab a seat, I'm fucking beat."

The next few hours breezed by; I was content snuggling up on the couch beside Dave, his hand never straying far from my hip or finding its way to my thigh as he bantered and laughed with the crew and the band.

It had been ages since I'd hung out backstage at a gig; soon enough, the party vibe started ramping up. But I could sense Dave growing uneasy, his eyes darting around anxiously when one of his roadies rolled in with some blow to pass around. I decided I'd had my fill; with Dave's recent slip-up in mind, I wasn't about to stick around in an environment that would put him on edge.

"Dave," I murmured, squeezing his hand softly, the buzz from the beer warming my cheeks but not quite enough to cloud my senses. "I'm tired... Can we bail?"

"Sure thing, babe." He jumped up without hesitation, indicating he was more than ready to split. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Where to?"

"I just wanna head back to the hotel. Maybe take a hot shower and grab a bite. Sounds good?" I suggested.

"Sounds perfect to me," he grinned.

Dave didn't seem surprised when he realized we were both crashing at the same hotel. He walked me to my floor, our hands linked, fingers intertwined, until we reached my room. I swung the door open and let him in. Turning to face him, I paused for a beat. He was right there, so close, his hazel eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine — a longing I hadn't quite picked up on until we were alone.

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered hoarsely, planting a gentle kiss on my lips before drawing back slightly. I gazed at him, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through me, my desire for him growing stronger by the second. With one hand, I slowly caressed his chest, drawing my mouth closer to his once more.

He let out a sigh as I kissed him, starting off slow but quickly heating up into a passionate kiss, our tongues dancing in perfect harmony as he drew me even closer. With a gentle push, he guided me backward into the room, the kiss unbroken. I vaguely registered the sound of the door closing behind us as his hands roamed my body with growing hunger.

"What happened to taking it slow?" I teased, and he let out a scoff, laughing.

"You want me to dial it back, Burton? 'Cause I can always head back to my room if that's what you're after," he joked, and I chuckled softly, pulling him in for another kiss.

"You talk too much, Mustaine," I murmured, a grin playing on my lips, and he laughed, taking off my shirt before diving back into our kiss.

I guided him down, settling him onto the bed before straddling his lap, my knees nestled around his hips. He let out a contented sigh as I peppered his neck with kisses, leisurely unbuttoning his shirt. A soft moan escaped my lips when his hand trailed up my thigh, slipping under my skirt and gripping my ass. With a gasp of surprise, I found myself lifted effortlessly, gently laid back onto the bed as he pressed his body against mine. My hands roamed down his muscular arms as I finished taking off his shirt.

A soft moan escaped me as he trailed kisses along the sensitive skin of my neck, working his way down to my collarbone. His hand found its way to my back, skillfully unclasping my bra. I tangled my fingers in his hair, trembling as he took one of my breasts into his mouth, his tongue circling my nipple deliberately while his other hand cupped my other breast. It was everything I'd been craving; every touch set my skin ablaze, as if my body just wanted him closer and closer, until there was nothing in the world but the two of us.

He kept on sucking at my breasts so tenderly that my whole body was tingling, sending shivers down my spine and making me ache for more. My arousal surged, the wetness between my legs throbbing with desire. Then, he went lower, lifting my skirt until it pooled around my waist, parting my legs gently. His breath felt hot against the damp fabric of my panties as he looked up at me, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"You want me to fuck you that much?" he whispered, his voice low and gravelly. I let out a sigh, my body trembling as I felt his warm breath against my skin. "You're fucking drenched," he murmured, and I gasped in response, earning a soft chuckle from him.

He planted slow kisses along the inside of my thigh, giving it a light nip before slowly sucking on the tender skin, leaving behind a mark that I knew would linger after he was gone. I whimpered, my clit pulsing with anticipation, craving his touch, but he seemed determined to savor every moment. Pulling back, he pressed a gentle kiss to my skin before moving to another spot, and then another, teasing and nibbling while his thumbs traced soothing circles on my thighs.

"Dave..." I sighed, pleaded, tears welling up in my eyes as I felt my entire body tense with desire. It was overwhelming; his touch was driving me wild, slow and deliberate, and I couldn't help but feel like I was on the brink of ecstasy, completely consumed by the moment.

I whimpered with pleasure as I felt his warm breath against my core, a tear or two slipping down my cheeks as I arched my back. Dave grunted softly as he peeled off my panties, then stripped away my skirt, leaving me completely exposed. He parted my swollen lips, his tongue teasing my clit.

"Is this what you want?" he whispered, pressing gentle kisses against my sensitive flesh. I nodded eagerly, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I tangled my fingers in his hair. He chuckled softly. "Just had to mark you first... Let everyone know you're mine now."

The way he said it sent a jolt through my whole body, a sharp moan escaping my lips. I knew I was on the edge, his touch pushing me closer and closer to the brink. And when he finally started to eat me out, his tongue swirling in slow circles, I couldn't hold back any longer. My whole body tensed, my heart racing, as I curled my toes and pulled him closer, consumed by a hunger that made him groan.

He gripped my thigh firmly, his hand gently clasping mine, our fingers laced together as I shut my eyes. Tears welled up at the corners of my eyes, mingling with the pleasure coursing through me. With my eyes closed, it was just him and me — his warm breath, the leisurely flicks of his tongue, his soft kisses, the gentle pressure of his fingers against my skin. His other hand held mine, tracing slow caresses along my flesh and it felt so, so good, that I never wanted him to stop.

"D-Dave..." I murmured as the tension in my belly mounted, opening my eyes to meet his intense gaze, seemingly captivated by my reactions. "Dave, I'm gonna... Oh!" I gasped as he released my hand, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them just right, setting off a wave of intense contractions that mingled with my growing moans, each one louder than the last.

I was pretty sure anyone walking by in the hallway could hear me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Not when my orgasm surged through me, his fingers working tirelessly inside me as I arched my back, lost in the ecstasy washing over me again, and again, and again.

When he finally eased off, I was completely spent, my body feeling like lead as I struggled to catch my breath. He chuckled softly, wiping his chin with one hand before settling back down on top of me, planting slow kisses on my cheek as he shed the rest of his clothes. I let out a soft moan as he slid inside me, still sensitive from my climax, and I felt my body clench around him as I adjusted to his size. He groaned softly, nuzzling into my neck.

"I love you," he whispered, and I moaned softly as he pressed his body against mine, fully inside me before slowly pulling back, his gaze locked with mine. "I love you," he murmured again, easing back into me with a slow, steady rhythm that elicited more moans from me, my nails digging into the flesh of his arms. "Say you love me too... I know you do."

"I-I love you too, Dave, oh..." I replied, my voice teary as he thrust deeper inside me. He grunted, one hand tangling in my hair while the other braced against the bed. Leaning in, his lips crashed against mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and I clung to him, wrapping my legs around his hips.

"I missed you for so, so long," he murmured against my mouth, a blend of anguish and pleasure evident in his voice. I brought one of my hands up to his face, gently stroking it as I pulled back slightly to look at him. "Can’t fucking live without you. Not if you aren’t with me."

"I'm here now," I said softly, and he nodded before kissing me again. I sighed, feeling the heat building in my body as he moved inside me, his movements growing more erratic with each thrust. "I'm here, Dave. I'm not going anywhere."

"No matter how far you go, I will always find my way back to you. Okay?" he murmured against my ear, and I nodded, letting out a soft moan. "Always," he groaned, his voice rough, as he held me tightly against him. "I promise. I promise..."

I let out a loud moan as my second orgasm washed over me, my body trembling in waves as I buried my face in his hair, clinging to him as if I never wanted to let go. He grunted, his movements growing rougher and more erratic before he also reached his climax, his warmth flooding into me before his body collapsed. Our sweat and tears of pleasure mingled together as he peppered my lips with a million little kisses. I chuckled softly, my heart racing, my body still ablaze as he pulled away from me, lying down next to me with a contented sigh.

We lay there for a bit, cuddled up as we caught our breath, Dave running his fingers softly through my hair. I nestled my head against his chest, listening to the quick rhythm of his heartbeat as he kept me tight.

"Dave?" I finally spoke up, feeling a bit unsure, my mind drifting back to why I had come to see him in the first place.

"Hmm?" he replied groggily. I shifted, sitting up a bit and leaning on my arm to look at him. His gaze seemed distant as he traced his thumb along my lower lip in a gentle touch.

"Why... Why didn't you tell me about rehab?" I questioned softly. Dave blinked, caught off guard, his expression shifting from surprise to a familiar pain.

"Is that why you're here? Who told you that?" he inquired, his voice rough and low. I nodded, uncertainly.

"Marty did. But it seems like it was your producer's bright idea... He claimed the tour was taking its toll on you. Said you had a slip-up."

"Did he now?" Dave's tone was laced with bitterness.

"Dave, I’m sure he meant well," I reassured him, running my fingers lightly over his chest. "And besides, Marty made me swear not to let you chew him out for telling me," I added, earning a chuckle from him, the tension easing a bit.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, cupping my face in his hand, his thumb tracing circles on my cheek. "It's been rough dealing with all this. I didn't want you to see me as a screw-up."

"I'd never see you that way," I reassured him softly.

"I just felt like crap after slipping up. I was making progress, but the road life, man, it's fucking draining. And missing you... It hit me harder than I thought," he admitted.

"Babe, it's all right. You're not a failure for this. What counts is that you're putting in the effort," I reassured him, and he let out a soft sigh.

"You make me want to be better," he murmured. "It's always been that way; I never quite got why you liked me, but I wanted to be better. For you," he said, holding my hand in his, pressing gentle kisses on my fingertips. "I love you. But you don't have to save me."

"I know. But I want to help," I said, and kissed him softly. "Please, just let me."

"You're already doing wonders," he smiled, and I returned the smile, nuzzling into his embrace as he held me close.

"I love you, Dave," I whispered, relishing his closeness, his fingers tenderly running through my hair. He mumbled in response, a satisfied sound.

"I love you too," he murmured back, his voice gravelly, before letting out a sigh. "Thanks... for letting me."

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope @ilovepapahet @decemberm0on

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the-penguinspy · 1 year

Note

Also, not me not realizing you rbed a prompt post until now :( ONLY if you want to bc I'm like ten years late or smth!

27: I can't think when you keep looking at me like that.” for whoever strikes ur fancy :)

not me, replying, 10 years late as well...thank u for the prompt smo, 'twas truly lovely to write for :)

The living room still smells like the remnants of their breakfast. American-style this morning – maple sausages and fried eggs, waffles and coffee; something Ava had been craving, something Beatrice had given in to.

She’s sated and full, the meal sitting heavy in her belly, and she’d love nothing more than to indulge herself in some mid-morning cuddles with Beatrice, maybe even make out a little bit. Instead, she’s sitting on Beatrice’s lap on the couch, knees bracketing hips. Not a bad place to be in, not at all! But her hands are occupied with a stack of multi-coloured flashcards and she’s studying.

“Bea, don’t we have fake licenses expressly for this purpose? Don’t these rules go out the window when it’s my turn to drive, anyway?”

“You don’t have to take the test, but most of the time we won’t be having dramatic car escapades. You’ll have to learn the rules of the road.”

“I think a little rule breaking is healthy sometimes. Necessary, even.”

Beatrice hums. “You can’t break the rules if you don’t know what they are.”

Ava groans and throws her head back dramatically, Beatrice’s hands coming up to hold her by the waist to prevent her from falling backwards. “I think I'll know when the rules are broken when I get five honks in a row,” she says, addressing the ceiling. “Bonus points for prolonged honks that sound like harmony.”

“Please don’t cause unnecessary grievances for your fellow drivers,” Beatrice says. Ava straightens up at that. Narrows her eyes at Beatrice. She opens her mouth and is about to dispute the accusation when the hands at her waist squeeze hard, once, and the air in her lungs leave her in a stint of breathless laughter.

Beatrice leans in close. “What was that you were going to say?” she asks, fingers digging into Ava’s waist, making her laughter burst out unchecked.

“I said–” Another warning squeeze, and Ava’s cut off as she wheezes. “Okay, okay! I won’t– Bea, stop– I won’t cause unnecessary grievances for my fellow drivers.”

“Thank you, darling.” Beatrice reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind Ava’s ear, smiling when Ava presses a kiss to her palm. She goes back to her stack of flashcards – written by her own hand, thank you very much – reading each question out loud and pairing it with an answer before flipping to the back to check. Beatrice’s hands rest on her thighs, and she hums encouragingly.

Ava scans the newest question. “What should you do – uh oh, this doesn’t sound good – in the event of a fire in a tunnel?” The stack has lessened by half. Cards are scattered beside her on the couch, a few of them making a home between the cushions.

She narrows her eyes and tries to pry the answer from her mind. Step one: don’t get close to the fire, obviously, otherwise the car would explode. Step two: stop the car. Step three: find and use the SOS phone, or get out using the emergency exit. Wait, should she use the SOS phone before leaving for the exit? Maybe someone else had already reported the fire, but then again, what if nobody hadn’t?

She mouths the question to herself silently, fingers itching to turn the card over to get the answer. She squints at the question and traces the words, following the swoops and curves of the lettering, but it’s quite difficult to focus when there’s a more enticing view in her periphery.

Try as she might, but her gaze keeps getting drawn back to Beatrice’s face. In her defence, it’s a very pretty face – Beatrice’s eyes are a rich, dark brown, focus intense on her, and the way the morning light shines on her face makes her freckles stand out; not stars, but still constellations in their own right.

It all falls away, is the thing – the stack of cards is held in front of her and she can see the hard-practiced cursive of her penmanship that graces the paper, but it all melts away in the face of Beatrice’s attention on her. It’s thrilling. Addictive. The answer to the question eludes her, slips out of her grasp, driving theory all but forgotten.

“Ava?”

A huff and a pout, and Ava’s crossing her arms, hand gripped tight onto the cards to keep them from spilling everywhere. “Bea, I can't think when you keep looking at me like that.”

The blush that blooms on Beatrice’s cheeks is so pretty, even now. Ava feels her teeth ache with it. “My sincerest apologies. Let me remedy that immediately,” Beatrice says, the corners of her mouth twitching. She furrows her brows and frowns in mock-seriousness, and shuts her eyes.

Ava privately laments her loss but this, at least, is more conducive to her focus.

She’s about to read the flashcard again to remember what the question was exactly, when she feels calloused fingers gently slide up her thighs. Beatrice’s hands reach the bottom of her cotton shorts, fingers barely dipping underneath the hems, before they rest there. She’s used to the frequency of Beatrice’s tactility now, but her chest still warms whenever Beatrice initiates the contact.

It would have been fine if those hands had stayed, but no – they make their way down her thighs slowly, fingertips dragging, before moving upwards once again with a more pronounced pressure.

Ava’s breath hitches. The smirk that graces Beatrice’s face is indicative that she caught it, her smile growing wider as Ava’s hands migrate to rest on her shoulders. Ava pitches her hips forward to lean into the contact, and she lets out a whine as Beatrice retracts her hands ever so slightly. “You’re such a tease. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me study?”

“I recall that you’re the one who suggested this method of studying,” Beatrice points out. Her tone wobbles slightly, laughter barely held in check, and Ava shoots her a half-hearted glare – not that Beatrice can see it. “Call it a sneak peek,” Beatrice says, “twenty more questions, then we’ll take a short break.”

“Ten.” “Fifteen.”

Ava beams. “Deal. Although, I think I need a little something to help jumpstart the studying process again. You know, to remind me of why I’m doing this in the first place.”

An eye cracks open at that, and Ava flutters her eyelashes for good measure. The coaxing is unneeded, though – Beatrice lets out a quick huff of laughter as she leans in, and Ava meets her in the middle.

The kiss is slow and sweet; a delicious sample of what’s to come. But Ava’s never been particularly good at waiting – she’s harboured an itching sense of impatience ever since the Halo had been embedded onto her back, the feeling only exacerbated by the blue-shifted timeline of the Holy War. Thus, the desire to take life by the reins, to devour its offerings, had become a habit formed quickly by will and necessity. Every facet of life she’d missed out on – she’d wanted it all, had always been hungry for it.

But – the war is over now. The life she’s building together with Beatrice is never going to be snatched away by divine hand, by demons or monsters or duty or sacrifice, not anymore. Ava’s still oh-so-hungry for it, and she can afford to linger now, but still, in moments like these? Where it’s just the two of them, unhurried, where love permeates every breath, every look, every gesture? It’s hers, it’s Beatrice’s, it’s theirs for all time, but somehow it’s moments like these where Ava can’t help but feel the most greedy; can’t help but give in to the urge to take, to hold between the canines of her teeth.

She tilts her head to deepen the kiss, fingers twitching against Beatrice’s shoulders. The hands on her thighs tighten their grip in approval, and the feeling sparks a hot thrill up her spine that disperses rapidly through her veins.

But all too soon, Beatrice pulls back. She doesn’t move far though; her lips ghost over Ava’s chin, her jaw. Ava holds herself still, waits until Beatrice’s mouth brushes against hers in one last kiss. Only then does Beatrice lean back. And only then, in the gift of this space, does Ava let her composure crumble, body and spirit rejuvenating with a harsh and shaky inhale.

“Can I open my eyes now, or will that be too distracting for you?” Beatrice’s voice is low and sweet with the tease, the cadence of her breathing unfairly even; this close, her breaths fall damp over Ava’s lips and taunt her with their proximity, and Ava has to fight to loosen her muscles, to not give in to the chase.

Tempting as always, but – Ava stays strong. She places a small kiss on the tip of Beatrice’s nose, revels in the warmth of her smile and how her eyes crinkle at the corners, before settling in place and returning to her flashcards once more. “Keep them closed, please, or I’ll never learn how to drive normally.”

#warrior nun #warrior nun fic #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #penguin writes #ava after she's gone thru the driving theory and has applied it well IN PRACTICE: ok bea ive been so so so good right? so can you.#can you teach me how to drift-#bea: no.#(reasoning: tyres are expensive. drifting takes practice. the smell of burnt rubber is not a great smell to smell.)#smokestarrules

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