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freshlove-sturn · 3 months

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HELP ME OUT? PT 2

pt 1 pt2 pt3 pt 4 pt 5 pt 6 pt7 pt8

chris sturniolo × fem reader

pink- reader

orange- chris

blue- matt

summary: chris is falling behind in english. he knows he has to get in grade in check before his big lacrosse game, or else coach will bench him. so what better idea than to reach out to the smart girl who sits in front of him in class? after all, it's just a little help... right?

readers pov

when i opened up my front door, i was met with his blue eyes and his long brown hair that fell messily into his face. he gave me a slight tongue in cheek smirk before speaking.

“hey y/l/n” he said, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes.

“where’s your books?” i questioned as i looked down at his hands that were in his pockets.

“well we’re in the same class aren’t we?” he asked.

“correct” i furrowed my brows slightly at the boy.

“then we have the same books no?” he smirked down at me, he knew i couldn’t argue with that.

“whatever” i rolled my eyes in a joking manner. “you can come in” i stepped aside, making room for him to walk through the doorway.

chris walked in and i shut the door behind him. it was silent for a few seconds as his eyes scanned around, taking quick glances at all the picture frames that hung on the wall.

“my room is upstairs. that’s where all my books are. do you want something to drink before we go up? water, pepsi-“

“a pepsi would be perfect actually” he cut me off, seemingly excited.

“okay i’ll go grab one real quick. you can go ahead and go upstairs if you want. my room is the first one on the right” i told him as i walked towards the kitchen.

chris went up the staircase. i opened the fridge and grabbed us our drinks before i went up. i opened the door and found him sitting on the edge of my bed, looking around at my decor.

“sorry it’s kinda messy, i wouldn’t cleaned more if you have me more of a heads up” i teased, handing him his pepsi.

“nah you’re good. this is nothing compared to my brothers room” he shook his head and grabbed the can from me. our fingers brushed against each other. i felt a chill run down my spine, my cheeks flushed with warmth and i knew for sure i was blushing. why did my body react like that? his hands hardly grazed mine and i felt my heart skip a beat. this was ridiculous. the crack of the can opening snapped me out of my thoughts.

“so how about let’s start with what you are understanding so i kind of have a ballpark idea of how to help you” i unzipped my bookbag and pulled out my textbook, opening it to the chapter we were learning in class.

“i don’t understand shit. i’m so lost” he leans back on his elbows, his eyes fixed me while i flip through my notes.

i look up from my notebook and raise an eyebrow at him. “well then what are you the least confused about?” i tried getting something out of him.

“probably the fact that this shakespeare guy was full of shit.” he mumbled before taking a sip of his pepsi, eying me, waiting for my reaction.

“you’re ridiculous.” i deadpan. he smirks and i try my best not to smile, but i feel the corners of my lips curl up. only egging him on more.

“i mean come on. he doesn’t even use real words” he points to a sentence quoting a like from Macbeth.

“i don’t know. i think it’s kinda cool.” i shrugged.

chris didn’t say anything. he just looked at me through the strands of hair that have fallen back into his eyes after numerous attempts of pushing them out of his face. we stare at each other in silence for a few moments. i admire his features. his button nose, his blue eyes, the pink hue of his lips, the way his dark brown hair curled slightly at the ends. each feature of him face complimented the next so beautifully.

i’m the first to look away. i still felt his eyes lingering on me. i could already tell that this was going to be far more difficult than i ever anticipated. in more ways than one.

chris pov

i watched her as her eyes skimmed over her textbook. she sat criss cross on her bed. hair falling into her view and she would brush it back behind her ear. i never really realized how beautiful she was. i guess i was only used to seeing the back of her head. i never noticed the way she would take her bottom lip into her mouth while she focused. i never noticed that her eyes were the perfect shade of y/e/c. or how she had freckles that littered her cheeks, looking like constellations on a map of the sky and stars. or the bracelets that clung to her wrist. it was all new to me. i wanna kick myself for not admiring all these things sooner. but maybe if i did know about all these little details about her, i definitely would have paid far less attention in class.

“so” she cleared her throat. “i think it would be best if we start here. this is the most difficult part i think, so it’s probably a good idea to get it knocked out first. is that okay?” she picks up her textbook and puts it between us, pointing to the section.

“you’re the boss” i sit up from my laying position on her bed. adjusting my shirt as i scoot ever so slightly closer to her.

the way she talked about the subject mesmerizes me. she used her hands as she spoke. each word leaving her mouth with a sense of knowledge and passion that made this situation far more attractive than it should have been. i nodded along. i could listen to her talk forever. her voice was soft and relaxing. it fell from her lips like that of honey. i took in everything she was saying. not wanting to miss the sound of a single word. she never talked much in school. i think before this i’ve only heard her speak maybe twice. short one word sentences. but now i never wanted her to stop. she could sit there and read me the oxford dictionary front and back twelve times and i wouldn’t get bored. the pace of her words would quicken and i could tell she really enjoyed what she was talking about.

“oh my god. i’m so sorry. i’m just rambling” she laughs awkwardly, a light pink color painted on her cheeks.

“no don’t apologize. you’re good. i liked it. it’s really cool how you know all this stuff. “ i reassured her.

she smiled and continued talking for a few for minutes. she pulled out a pen from her bookbag that was laying behind her. she ripped out a piece of paper from her notebook and wrote down a few things and handed it to me.

“these are just some sections that i think you should read over that will help the homework make more sense.“ i looked down at the paper, reading what she had jotted down. god even her hand writing was pretty.

“‘’preciate it” i folded up the paper and slipped it into my pocket.

“i can also send you my notes if you’d like?” she held up her notebook

“yeah that would be great actually. my notes are ass” i admitted. earning a slight giggle to escape her lips.

i watched her as she flipped through the pages of her notes and snapped pictures. my phone dinged. it was all the pictures she took.

“thanks. those will help me a lot” i turn my phone off and looked at her.

“good. so, are you gonna come back over tomorrow? or are you busy?” she asked.

“i’m pretty sure i’m free.” i answered. trying my best not to let her on about how eager i was to see her again. i knew for a fact i was free. even if i wasn’t, i’d make it work.

“okay cool.“ she smiled.

our eyes land on each others for the millionth time tonight. i never wanted to look away. our knees were touching. we stay like this for all of 10 seconds. not speaking. just staring back at each other. i couldn’t help but look down at her lips. they looked so soft. i couldn’t help but imagine how they’d mold with mine. the sound of her voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

“well uh, i don’t want to corrupt you with too much in one night.” her voice cut through the silence.

“yeah. i think matt’s on his way. i don’t live far.” i responded.

honestly, i wouldn’t have minded if she gave me a 12 hour lecture about the mechanics of a toaster. something about her drew me to her. i didn’t know what it was. it was almost intoxicating.

a few minutes pass before i get a text from matt letting me know he’s outside. y/n follows me down the stairs and to the door.

“thanks for everything. you didn’t have to do all that” i put my hand on the door handle.

“no i wanted to. besides, how tragic would it be if THE christopher sturniolo couldn’t play lacrosse?” she teased.

i rolled my eyes and smiled. “man i don’t even want to think about it” i pretended to shiver at the thought. she laughed. i think that was my new favorite thing.

“alright we’ll i should probably get outta here. matt’s probably getting pissed waiting on me.” i started twisting the door handle.

“okay. i’ll see you tomorrow” she waved.

“see ya y/l/n” i step out and jog down her porch steps.

i get to the van and opened the door. i sit down and get buckled in.

“what are you smiling about?”

a/n: AHHH. i hope y’all like this. i think it’s kinda cutie 😋 lmk how you’re feelin !!

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chrissturnioloxreader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nathan doe

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miracles-and-butterflies · 3 months

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For @jacarandaaaas, based on the premise of “Julieta cooking with her daughters as a bonding exercise.”

Post rebuild, Julieta encourages her three girls to make arepas with her. Somewhere along the way it becomes a competition and chaos ensues. But she still loves them.

My Cooking Skills (do not run in the family)

“What? No!” Luisa jumped, already moving to block the doorway. “You aren’t coming in my kitchen, demon!”

Isabela snickered. Luisa getting way too aggressive in the kitchen was always amusing. She pushed at a bicep, with no success. “Come on, stand aside, sis. Papa said Mama wants to see me in here.”

“That’s weird, he said the same thing to me.” Luisa mumbled to herself. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Luisa, you don’t own the fucking kitchen.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a—”

“Oh, hi hermanas,” came Mirabel’s voice, having appeared just behind Isabela. She wasn’t paying too much attention to what they were doing, which explained why they hadn’t been immediately lectured for it. She was somehow walking while also keeping her attention on her embroidery ring. “Does Mama want to speak with you both, too?”

“Yep. But try telling chef Luisa that.”

“I’m not letting you in my kitchen, every time I do you ruin what I’m cooking.” Luisa snapped, crossing her arms. “Wait, so Mama does actually want to speak with all of us? Isabela wasn’t just lying?”

Isabela swat a handful of petals at her. “I’m starting to hope she doesn’t, just so I can annoy you.”

Luisa glared at her, Isabela happily glared back. She had missed this. Their little, petty rivalries from when they were younger.

Finally, their mother stepped over, tying up her apron. She smiled at her girls before realising that Isabela and Luisa were engaged in a staring contest. She cleared her throat, unceremoniously.

“Ha! You blinked, I won!” Isabela exclaimed.

“Luisa, let your sisters in.” Julieta called.

Luisa spluttered. “But Bela—”

“Is going to behave herself in the kitchen. Aren’t you, Isabelita?” She stopped her eldest as she passed Luisa, giving her a pointed look. Isabela mocked a look of offence before agreeing, though she did stick her tongue out at Luisa before taking a seat on the counter. “Why do I think I’ve called you three here today?”

“To tell us that you love us?” Isabela suggested, half-joking.

At the same time, Luisa winced, scratching the back of her head nervously. “To tell Isabela and I off for stealing a bottle of wine for our sleepover with Dolores last weekend.”

“I do love you, but that is not what I—” their mother stopped for a minute. They could almost see her hair getting greyer. “You three did what?”

“It was Isabela’s fault. She stole it.” Luisa accused.

“It was Dolores’ idea.” Isabela added.

She let out a heavy sigh, “We’ll talk about that with your cousin and Tía later. But, for now, I’ve brought you three in here to do some cooking with me.”

The idea was not met with much or any enthusiasm from the girls. Isabela rolled her eyes before suddenly smirking with mischief; Luisa initially lit up before realising what exactly it meant and deflated. Julieta was prepared for what drama it would be like having those two in the kitchen together.

The last time they had was when Isabela was six and Luisa was four, just after Mirabel’s birth. She had been hoping to spend some nice quality time with her daughters, so they didn’t feel too replaced with attention by the new baby. And it ended with a massive food fight, some inedible and flora filled obleas, and the pair of them being grounded for biting each other. A few months ago, she would have confidently said that they wouldn’t be like that now. Now? She wasn’t as confident and seriously doubted her judgement.

“That’s just great, Mama. Luisa was just telling me how much she loves it when I help her in the kitchen, weren’t you, sis?” Isabela prompted. Trying her best to lean on her taller sister.

“I will feed your cacti to a donkey.” Luisa said through gritted teeth, but kept the smile for her mother and nodded her head like she agreed. “Thank you, Mama, for this wonderful afternoon. I can’t wait to get started and cook with my two lovely sisters. Can I just ask, why are you making us do this?”

She chuckled, “Well, I just thought it would be nice for us to spend some together. And that some of us could put the embroidery down and socialise for a change.”

Her change in tone did have the wanted effect as Mirabel did look up from the bird she was sewing, glancing at the three of them in turn.

“I’m listening,” the girl insisted before immediately going back to her needle.

“Wrong move, little sis.” Isabela whispered under her breath. Just loud enough for Luisa, who found herself swallowing nervously, to give a hum of agreement.

Mirabel yelped when Julieta tore the thing from her hand. “You can have it back when we are finished,” their mother stated. She set on a shelf, well out of Mirabel’s reach, before directing her to go stand alongside her sisters. She walked off to go get aprons for the three before Mirabel could start her usual concerns about the risk of her embroidery getting ruined.

“Wait, what are we doing?” Mirabel asked her sisters.

“I don’t know, Mirabel, we’re in the kitchen. What do you think we’re doing? I think we’re gonna go swimming!” Isabela retorted.

“I know that, but what are we cooking is what I meant?” Mirabel corrected, huffing a little at Isabela’s childishness. She turned to Luisa, but she only offered her a shrug.

Julieta returned, tossing an apron to each of her girls. Isabela and Luisa both went for the same one and then squabbled about it for the next two minutes - it was Luisa’s usual apron, for she often helped Julieta in the kitchen, but Isabela was clearly just looking to stir the pot of Luisa’s baking anger. Finally, work done, she gave in and let Luisa have it, taking the remaining apron.

She didn’t attempt to let the three try agree on a recipe; she was well aware how that would go. So she herself chose to make arepas. It was something that they could all do. Luisa is just a good a cook as she was herself and would find it no bother, which meant she could potentially help one of her sisters while Julieta helped the other. Mirabel could cook, she was just very slow and pedantic - and couldn’t bring herself to deviate from instructions, ensuring everything looked picture perfect to the recipe book. And Isabela? Well… she was never allowed in the kitchen, so today would be interesting.

“Now, this isn’t a competition, so you can all take your time.” Julieta reminded.

Luisa nodded. “That’s fine. We all know mine are the best.”

“It’s going to be mine. Mine will win.” Isabela argued. She looked down at Luisa’s bowl. “Yours… I don’t even know what I’m looking at.”

“It’s the exact same as yours! Just a bowl full of corn meal and water!”

“You remember when Antonio was a baby and he was sick on Tío Félix’s shoulder that one time at dinner? Yeah, that’s what yours looks like.”

“Well, you’re not gonna have anything left if you keeping mixing it so hard. Stop splashing me!”

“You’re just jealous that I’m the fastest here.” Isabela scoffed. “I mean, look at Mirabel. Her bowl’s still empty.”

Mirabel clicked her tongue. “Unlike you two, I am following a recipe book and measuring out my ingredients. We are just cooking. It’s not a competition. And, even if it were, the taking part and having fun is what counts.”

“That’s what losers say.” Isabela and Luisa both muttered coincidentally. They both shared a high five before going back to mixing.

“Ay, don’t bully your sister.” Julieta said. “But Mirabel, you’ve measured the corn meal out several times now. It’s not going to have changed, mi amor, you can add it into your bowl.”

“But I’m not sure it is—”

“It is, Mirabel. I’ve told you twice.”

“Even if it isn’t, you can just add it, hermanita. It doesn’t matter.” Luisa piped up.

“It does matter! Everything in life matters.” Mirabel countered, as though Luisa saying that had shattered her entire world. She continued to mutter to herself as she began measuring again, just to be sure. “Even the smallest things matter. Every step, every word, every stitch, every grain—”

Isabela interrupted. “You’re still like seven small steps behind us, sis.”

Before anybody could say anything more, Isabela dumped her clump of dough onto the countertop with an audible splat.

“Okay, there’s no way that’s done.” Julieta chided.

“Look how wet it is— keep it on your side of the fucking counter!” Luisa demanded, shoving it aside, trying to shield her dough from any drops from Isabela’s tainted dough.

“It doesn’t really matter,” Isabela continued. “It’ll dry when it’s cooking.”

As they both began to shape their dough, nobody noticed the vines picking up the relatively empty jug of water and pouring it on Luisa. Most of it went her head, but a few drops landed on the counter, brushing against her dough.

“You look a little wet, Lulu.”

“Fuck you, Bela!”

“You wanna take this outside, brawn?”

“I will rip your arm out of its socket and then let’s see you try grow shit.”

“Luisa, Isabela! Behave yourselves. You aren’t children.” Julieta stared them down for a long minute, shaking her head. “No me importa la edad que tengas, igual te regañaré.”

Isabela and Luisa progressed in a very similar fashion. Occasional bickering and bragging about who was doing better, but they were getting through it a relatively decent pace. Julieta couldn’t tell whether or not Luisa was enjoying Isabela’s company, she seemed to flick from happily laughing or playing along to threatening Isabela with a rolling pin.

Julieta had taken the time to prepare various fillings for the girls, most of it had just been left overs from over the last few days.

“You’re doing shit, Bela.” Luisa chuckled to herself.

Julieta came over and corrected her daughter. “Just try doing it a little bit gentler. See? That’s much better.” She cast a glance at Luisa, who didn’t need help. “Don’t insult your sister. It is important to help and encourage people while they are cooking, you wouldn’t want to get in their head and make them think that they can’t cook.”

“Yeah, especially when they’re beside someone who is doing really well.” Luisa snarked, proudly.

Isabela poked a finger at one of Luisa’s arepas on the stove top, earning a disgruntled cry from her sister as she hurried to fix it. She, meanwhile, presented her final completed arepa to her mother.

Julieta blinked at the arepa. “Um, that isn’t—”

“I shaped mine into cacti.” Isabela explained.

“Isabela’s trying to go for the creative points because she can’t win on anything else.” Luisa cackled.

“Bitch, I will shove yours off the stove to the floor.”

Their mother quickly intervened stepping between the two. “No, nobody is touching the stove top. Isabela, here, let me show you how to cook them.”

“What do you mean how?” She asked. “I leave them and come back in an hour to eat them.”

Luisa burst out laughing. “If you want to burn them, then sure.”

“This is why you are meant to follow the instructions,” Mirabel’s voice rang, smug as anything.

“Sis, you have only just made it on to step four. You’re not better than me at anything—”

“I’m on step three, actually… which I am realising is not much better. Give me twenty minutes to think of a better comeback.”

“No, arepas don’t take that long. And you have to flip them, Isabela. You can’t leave them.” Julieta went on to explain. She managed to convince Luisa to step aside for a moment, so she could show Isabela what she needed to do.

The next few minutes had passed without anything of note. Isabela stopped mucking around long enough to at least attempt flipping her arepas. Luisa decided she was going to make a topping from scratch, just to show off her culinary skills. And Mirabel was slowly catching up to her sisters.

The enticing smell coming from the kitchen later prompted Agustín to come check how his girls were doing. Only to find them not in the kitchen and cooking like he expected. Isabela and Luisa were giggling in the dining room over three plates of (very different looking) arepas that Julieta had set down. Mirabel was cleaning dishes in the kitchen.

“Something smells good,” he commented.

“We’ve been cooking, Papí,” Luisa explained, happily learning back for a kiss on her forehead as he hugged her.

“You should try them. Tell us which one’s the best.” Isabela went on to add. While he stopped to give her a kiss in their embrace, she then whispered, “It’s going to be mine, but let’s not destroy Luisa’s ego too quickly. She’s very fragile.”

He chuckled before kissing Julieta on the lips. “No disasters this time?” He asked.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she teased. “I’ll go get Mirabel.”

He settled into a seat on the other side of Isabela. “You two didn’t leave your little sister to clean your mess alone, did you?”

“She wanted to do it.” Isabela shrugged.

“We were kicked out for splashing each other again.” Luisa answered honestly.

Mirabel went for the chair the other side of Luisa, seeing as Julieta had taken the one on Agustín’s other side. But not before he gave her a quick pat on the hand - she wasn’t as physically affectionate as the other two, especially after getting caught in a collapsing building.

“Can you guess whose is whose?” Luisa inquired, gesturing to the three plates.

The plates weren’t their usual signature ones, instead just plain and white. Each with five arepas. The one on his left had them all set with a good helping of fried chorizo, some vegetables and spices. The middle were just set on the plate, off-shape and cooked to various levels, piled high with leftovers. The one on his right were all neatly aligned against one another, perfectly coloured and symmetrical, sprinkled with a few herbs and some small flowers as a garnish.

“Yours is the left - I’ve seen it on my breakfast plate before. Middle is Isa’s because she made it as different as humanly possible. Right is Mirabel’s because it looks like it came out of a fancy painting or something. She definitely wins for presentation.”

“Well, nobody told me to plate it like that!” Isabela slumped back into her chair.

Mirabel hummed, “I don’t have many skills, but I can make things look good. I wasn’t adventurous at all with mine, but I like my arepa con quesos plain. I’ll take the win; people do say you eat with your eyes.”

“Congratulations, Mira. You make a very pretty meal.” Luisa praised. “But the real factor is how good it tastes, so it doesn’t actually mean anything.”

“…When did you become so competitive?”

“Back when you were still twelve steps behind, keep up.”

The tasting of the dishes had gone as anyone would expect: Mirabel’s being good, simple and plain; Isabela’s being hardly edible but they got a good laugh out of it; Luisa’s were obviously the best of the lot and she bragged indefinitely about the win. Though it was later admitted that Luisa and Isabela had both tempered with each other’s arepas, so who could really say was the winner?

“So, what are you going to make next?”

“I think we’re done with cooking,” Julieta said. “Why don’t you take them to try one of your hobbies, mi vida?”

“Um, yes?” Isabela exclaimed, standing up. “I’d be so good with an axe.”

Luisa scoffed, leaning over to Mirabel. “How long do you think it would take for her to accidentally chop a finger off?”

“Who says that Pa will make us do carpentry anyways? He might have us do something more musical.” Mirabel challenged. “Which would be an instant win for me as you two can’t read sheet music or play instruments.”

As the three girls descended into playful bickering, Agustín pulled Julieta in for a hug.

“I love our girls.”

“I do, too.”

#encanto #my writing #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #luisa madrigal #julieta madrigal #agustín madrigal #the cold family #julieta x agustín

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voidendron · 11 days

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(ignore Soren's missing scar shhhh I forgot it when I remade him he'll get it back when I visit camp next)

Because I'm a sucker for angst and wanted to figure out how to fit both twins into this world while still making it Tragic™️,,

First off, Var is a wizard. Undecided on in-game subclass yet, but if I ever actually write or draw anything for this version of him, he's an artificer. In-game Soren's a rogue because it fits their sneakiness, but outside the game she began apprenticing under a blacksmith, with a focus on bladed weapons. Still has his silver tongue, of course; it's not Soren without that! (no joke. she keeps failing almost every check that isn't persuasion....)

Their birth mother cast them aside for being half human; they were raised by their human father, and his eventual wife who treated them as her own despite them being half-elves. Var took an interest in magic while they were growing up. Soren was curious about his brother's spells and would encourage it even when its studies grew difficult.

Var was always cautious with magic. Soren encouraged him to push himself-

Which led to the deaths of their parents, and her. An explosion, centered on Soren; nothing left of her but the amulet she often wore around her neck, white-hot and burning its shape into the ground. Parents, with their bodies mutilated. Var's magic somewhat protected him, but his face and chest were still badly maimed.

From that point, Varkhal doesn't speak much. Probably doesn't touch magic for a very long time, stops studying it, throws out old books and sigils and amulets - and then the amulet he started wearing around his neck, the one Soren was wearing when she died, started to glow.

...And there was Soren. They looked exhausted, like they'd just been woken up from a very long sleep, and when Var reached out to touch them, there was no physical form. She gave him a tired smile, then returned to the amulet.

He doesn't fully understand it, just knows that Soren can either project themself to speak to him, but has no physical form. Or, that he can expend a tremendous amount of energy to take a physical form, often to protect Varkhal, before returning to the amulet and needing to "sleep" for weeks a time to regain his energy.

Var has once more picked up his studies. If for nothing else, than to at least free his sibling from their prison.

#voids ocs #oc: varkhal #oc: soren #half elf varkhal #half elf soren #i'm not very far in the game yet. haven't even recruited karlach or the druid yet #idk much about the world the game is set in #but! <3 doesn't mean i can't think up backstories for the twins

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7ban-sama · 2 years

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reflecting on Hanako's quality of being so “^^”, but this often indicating an unwell state of mind, more than it does happiness...? mmm... his content, front-facing demeanor feels designed to mask things, intentionally. since Hanako is keen on not appearing vulnerable or ever really speaking about himself deeply, personably. I think this veneer is useful to him. He uses it to deflect unwanted pity and attention., as much as he uses jokes to deflect sincerity and concern from Nene repeatedly.

however, this smiling face is not used to appear more likable, in fact, you could almost say it is intended to do the opposite of endear Hanako to others-! ... Hanako decidedly is really bad at making people like him meaningfully, he is very very rude (this might be lost on us gaijins but he is culturally SF RUDE), and seems to have a genuine problem with valuing others deeply. life is not... precious to Hanako. feelings are not precious or to be preserved.

as someone who is using icons for RPing him, there are 500 fussy, eyes-narrowed, leering Hanakos which feel more authentic to his emotional palate. His heavily lidded aloof selves... if you were interfacing with him more seriously, this is what you get more often. there are many points in the manga where he more or less goes sigh and ‘drops’ the ‘pleasantries’.

so, when he is nico nico he is often being snake. in fact, he even puts on this face before saying very intentionally hurtful things — with the intent TO make himself out to be-? upsetting, jarring, unpleasant. someone who is making an inapproproiate expression for what he i saying.

this is just mean...

about to threaten aoi’s life with no warning, using her as bait

being cruel to kou...

uh... being cruel to kou, again... (what could it mean...!)

purposefully trying to upset nene as much as possible before the severance, so she’ll lash out at him and reject him

even in one of the mooost recent chapters, he’s doing this while trying to crush nene’s hopes about dying for him / becoming a kaii. seriously Hanako... you’re so mean...

... and, admittedly, even a less severe situation like this

... it’s still hanako being. m-mean, and saying something very bluntly, while smiling. since nene only just met him here, she is totally unprepared for this demeanor of his... and, I think most people are, since a lot of humans and kaii alike think of Hanako as! a creepy, selfish person!! ... and I think that is hanako’s willful intent...!!!

obviously, sometimes he is being sincerely happy and playful. also i think his flirtatious theatrics are ‘real’ in that, he is a nasty pervert, just facts. aside from that though, i think when hanako is experiencing something more sincere and ardent, it manifests in a more... troubled way. if you can think to any particularly emotional scene where we know hanako is being real... is he, smiling hugely- not... really... at best you get the boy in PP smiling with cinched brows while talking to nene amidst the clouds. he’s troubled....

this is a guy who gets super flustered over receiving a cheek kiss, guy who gets unspooled by his brother saying ‘suki’. even a young amane cannot handle his feefees. a lifelong affliction of struggling with expressions of sincerity

i think... he looks absolutely tongue-tied and overwhelmed. he cannot radiate confidence like this... he is ill-equipped to handle his own intensity.

whjat a lil creep.

anyways all of this stuff makes me really contemplative about particular hanakos. well, we now know about what the school wonders function as [gatekeepers that maintain the boundaries of the near & far shore] and, we also know that hanako willfully was setting up aoi to be sacrificed later. so these gleeful boys... they have an insidious quality, don’t they...?

It’s worrisome that at this point, Hanako has even surprised Tsukasa, our chessmaster ‘villain’ moving everyone around with a grand plan in mind. I feel like we should all be sitting around wondering what HANAKO’S plan is at this point. you’re sooo weird...

needless to say, the version of hanako i trust the least actually is THIS mfer

YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! .... everyone is so ready to pity you amane but i am not. GIVEN YOUR TRACK RECORD... I’M JUST NOT QUITE SURE.

this doesn’t pass my smell test!!!!!! i’m documenting my mistrust for posterity so when the murder is revealed in 2028 i’ll have had my say

#☀️#💭

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silverfoxlou · 2 years

Note

I'm soooo excited for the album I honestly cannot wait so I wanted to ask you to rank the song by the titles and what we know about them so far ! and you can add what do you expect from all of them if you have certain expectations

Many many weeks later.. my apologies.

I don’t know if I can rank the songs because I’m so excited for every single song. But there are some songs I’m more curious about simply because of what we know about them so far

- That’s The Way Love Goes

The Oli love song 🥺. I’m imagining it as Louis writing about Oli singing Chiquitita to him. And how it always has to be the album closer (see below)

- Saturdays

People at the listening parties said they cried. And Louis said it was emotional doing the vocal for that song. All his songs are sad.. so for Louis to single this out to be an emotional song? We’re fucked. And it’s the longest song on the album…

- Silver Tongues

The title is just so intriguing. Silver-tongued apparently means “able to speak in a way that makes other people do or believe what you want them to do or believe”. But the song was described as joyous? And describing the intricacies of his relationship?? And it’s his favorite song so you know it’ll be one of the best on the album

- Chicago

If there is no mention of the ass tattoo, is there even any point?! But jokes aside. He also said recording this song was emotional. A deep song about a post lover… also for personal reasons I need to hear this song now

- She Is Beauty We Are World Class

Louis?? Using a gendered pronoun?? Honestly I just wanna know what this song is about? Is it cheesy? Is it a deep philosophical take on some social issue? It’s one of the dance-y songs

I’m also so curious to see if each version of the album will feel different or tell a slightly different story based on the order of the songs. Why does All This Time get moved up? Why do Angels Fly and Common People get moved down? Why is Holding Onto Heartache added just before That’s The Way Love Goes? Why is Paradise added before Holding Onto Heartache? So many questions. And one month exactly to find out..

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day.

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.”

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

****************

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are.

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

*****************

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

2K notes · View notes

sunder-soul · 3 years

Note

is it possible if you do some Tom fluff/soft!smut where y/n stops touching him (like hand holding, hugging etc) because he doesn’t show any interest in it (always has a serious face & looks bored of her etc, when in reality he’s melting inside with butterflies and stuff). so he asks her why and she explains it and it leads to some smut, (only if you’re comfy if you’re not, some making out is fine). <33

Oh my god the second I got this I was like I HAVE to answer this immediately. Thanks for this awesome prompt!!! 💖

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Tactile

Summary: Affectionate Reader stops touching Tom because he never reacts to it, and when he asks why they stopped things get very, very heated (content warning: smut). Word count: 2.3k Content warning: explicit sex.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Tom had shown you the room about a week after you’d started dating. It was on the seventh-floor of the Castle far away from the regular foot-traffic, a smooth stone wall until you walked past it with a specific need in mind – then the door would appear, carved from the rock before your very eyes to reveal a room that gave you exactly what you wanted.

For him, it was always the same room; a small library so packed with books that the shelves curved overhead to form impossible arches, warm glowing lanterns that illuminated the space inside, and a broad fireplace in front of which sat elegant black couches with reading lamps and tables laden with yet more books. He’s yet to tell you exactly what he thinks of to make the library appear, but every time you go there with him, there it is again.

“Are you alright?” he asks suddenly one evening.

The two of you are on the couches before the crackling fireplace. Tom has an elbow resting on the armrest of the couch and a book in his lap, one long leg crossed over the other, looking at you where you’re sat opposite him. You’re curled up around an assignment with your feet tucked up underneath you and your inkwell balanced somewhat precariously on the cushion beside you.

“I’m fine,” you frown, rather taken aback. “Why?”

Tom is silent as he assesses you, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. You arch a brow and lower your quill, attention fully grabbed. “Tom?”

“You’ve been acting differently,” he says smoothly.

“I have?”

“Yes,” he says succinctly, looking back down at his book. “More reserved.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say slowly.

“You used to be very… tactile,” he says delicately, his long fingers sliding under his page and turning it very nonchalantly. “I’ve noticed that you’ve stopped.”

“Stopped touching you?” you say carefully, feeling more and more surprised.

He nods.

“Well it felt weird to keep doing it since you didn’t like it,” you frown, confused at why he’d even brought it up.

Tom’s eyes snap up to yours. “What do you mean?” he asks curtly.

You raise your brows at his reaction. “Where’s the point of confusion for you?” you ask dryly.

“Why did you think I didn’t like it?” he demands.

“Are you joking?” you deadpan, half-amused. “Tom, you’d just ignore me. I’d go to hug you, or hold your hand, and you’d just look so… bored. It didn’t take a genius to realise that you weren’t interested.”

Tom stares at you. Suddenly you feel a little awkward.

“I don’t mind that you’re not an affectionate person,” you say quickly, “I really don’t. I just felt sort of strange acting like that since it obviously wasn’t what you wanted.”

His jaw goes tight and there’s something almost agitated in the way he looks back down at his book.

“Are… are you alright?” you ask hesitantly, gaze lingering on his fingers that – despite his apparently casual posture – were now gripping the cover of his book so tightly that his knuckles were going white.

“Fine,” he says in a clipped tone.

“Well I’m convinced,” you drawl.

Tom doesn’t rise to your teasing. You frown and put your assignment aside. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I am perfectly well,” he says tersely.

“Is that why you’re about to rip that book in two?” you ask ironically, arching a brow.

Tom shuts the book loudly and tosses it onto the couch beside him. “What would you have me say?” he says in agitation.

“You’re rather obviously upset, Tom,” you say frankly.

“Yes and your observations are always so accurate,” he snaps caustically.

You frown again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tom looks furious for a second and then glowers at the fireplace. Your thoughts whir. The only observation you’d made about him recently had been…

“Is this about me touching you?” you ask slowly, watching him carefully.

Tom looks at you again, tense and frenetic. He doesn’t say anything. Your stomach does a little flip, and you force your nerves down to speak again.

“…Do you want me to start doing it again?”

Tom’s lips press together, his eyes flicking between yours. After a long, silent moment, he nods.

You smother a smile and stand. Tom’s eyes follow you, looking ever so slightly alarmed at your movement – but the expression melts away as you approach him and very languidly rest your hands onto his shoulders, slowly leaning forward and straddling him on the couch. “Then why didn’t you say you liked it?” you say softly, sitting down on his lap and lifting a hand to push your fingers through his hair.

Tom’s gaze is unmoved from your face as his hands slide up your hips and come to a rest on your waist, his touch very reserved. “I thought you knew,” he says quietly.

“Not all of us are mind-readers, Tom,” you tease playfully, your fingers trailing down the elegant curve of his cheek. “Some of us have to rely on menial body language and verbal queues to understand each other.”

“My apologies,” Tom says softly as he leans closer. Your heart stutters despite yourself.

You meet his lips softly, just as warm and full as they looked, his mouth moving on yours deceptively gentle but with the dizzying promise of more to come. Sure enough, you feel his hands slide from your waist up around you as he pulls you closer to him, holding you tightly against him. Adrenaline is spreading like fire through your chest and – wondering exactly how much you can get away with – you slowly roll your hips against his. You hear him take a slightly harder breath and you pull back from the kiss to look at him.

Your stomach twists at what you see. Tom stares at you with something like hunger on his face, his eyes dark and intense. You can’t resist rocking your hips again just to see his reaction. Tom’s jaw goes tight and he leans in hard, his lips crashing into yours and moving ravenously, his hand curling into a fist of your hair and pulling you deeper into the kiss. Heat spreads through your body and grows hotter and hotter as it goes on and on, your fingers carding into the waves of his dark hair as you kiss him back as hard as you can, as you spiral from control and you’re barely able to think anymore.

Tom is pushing your robes off of your shoulders and you distractedly shrug them off as you lean into the kiss, your heart racing as his fingers slip under the bottom of your jumper and pull it up. You’re forced to break the kiss to let him lift it over your shoulders but he captures your lips the second it’s out of the way, his long fingers already on the buttons of your blouse. You can’t stop touching him, your hands in his hair, against his jaw, down his neck, and then he’s sliding his hands against your skin and your blouse falls to the ground behind you. Tom pulls you forward hard to bring your body flush against his chest, his tongue tracing your top lip and making you feel like you’re falling.

You can feel him hard against your core.

Body aflame with desire, your hands drop to his belt between your legs but Tom catches your wrists in one hand.

“Wait,” he says silkily, smirking.

Something aches in you so hard your vision reels for a second and you stare at him, unable to look away. He slowly lets go of your hands and his fingers are brushing against your thigh, slipping up and under your skirt. Your eyes close and your head falls onto his shoulder as his fingers trace the outside of your underwear, his touch burning and unbearably light. Tom gently presses his lips to your neck and shivers spread across your skin.

“God, Tom,” you breathe as his lips trail down your neck and his fingers stroke you teasingly.

Tom just breathes a laugh and the next second your underwear are gone, Vanished effortlessly. You only barely contain a moan as his fingers slide with ease and aching heat washes across your skin. “You want this so much, don’t you?” he murmurs against your neck.

But you can’t reply, blind at the pleasure of his touch. His fingers are slow and relentless, easing back and forth like he’s beckoning you further into desire, listening to you moan in his ear. His other hand curls around the back of your neck as he presses his lips up under your jaw, his teeth brushing your skin and making you gasp. “Does it feel good?” he murmurs, his soft words making tingles erupt down your neck.

“Yes,” you breathe, arms tightening around his neck

The pressure of his fingers increasing slightly and your breath hitches. “Are you going to lose control for me?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” you barely manage to say again.

Tom’s other hand cups your face and guides your face around to look at him, his lips hovering right against yours as his fingers stroke burning heat into you, agonisingly gentle, torturously persistent. “You’re going to come for me,” he whispers, “and I want to watch.”

You feel it bloom in you core as if by his command, and Tom’s lips curl into a smirk.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, pulling your forehead against his. “Just like that.”

“Tom,” you gasp as it starts to overcome you.

“Give me what I want,” he says softly, right against your mouth.

It hits you hard and you can’t breathe, can’t see, can’t even think as your heart races, as heat consumes you. Your head is spinning when it finally passes, your breathing ragged when you can bear to crack your eyes open.

Tom is right there, eyes black with desire as they roam your face with hungry scrutiny.

This time when your hands go to his belt, he doesn’t stop you, his hands dropping to your hips again. It only takes a second to pull the buckle apart and unbutton his trousers, and Tom’s hands immediately pull your hips forward, jerking you up onto your knees.

You tangle your fingers in his hair and lean down to his lips, kissing him deeply as Tom’s fingers tighten on your hips and slowly, firmly guide you down on top of him, your knees spreading out on the couch on either side of him as his tongue coaxes your lips apart. Your stomach twists at the feeling of him against you, as he slides into you easily without stopping, guiding your hips down more and more until you’re flush against him again and in one smooth movement his whole length is inside of you.

You cheeks are hot and your heart is going a thousand beats a minute as his hands grip you hard, as he rocks your hips against him, his tongue against yours making you dizzy all over again. He rocks you again, and again, hitting something inside of you that makes you break the kiss to gasp at the electric feeling spreading through you.

Tom stills at once, a crease appearing between his brows.

“Don’t stop, Tom,” you moan at once, leaning your forehead on his again and grinding your hips against him hard.

His eyes flicker and his hands tighten painfully on your hips as he resumes, making you grind against him over and over again until you can’t help the moans he’s drawing from you.

“You feel good,” he murmurs up against your lips, his voice turned low and husky.

“So do you,” you say breathlessly, rocking hard along with his hands and twisting your hips in the smallest circle.

Tom’s eyes fall shut and his head cants forward an inch as he breathes hard. Entranced, you chase the reaction at once, repeating the motion again, and again. Tom’s hands slowly loosen on your hips as you take over, grinding against him with desire aflame on your skin and in your core alike.

“Will you give me what I want?” you whisper, desire turning you reckless.

Tom looks up at you like he’s in pain, his hands resting gently on your waist as he watches you grind against him.

“Will you lose control for me, Tom?” you say quietly, leaning into his lips.

Tom’s hand is behind you neck in a flash, brows furrowing as he pulls you down against his lips aggressively, his grip painfully tight as you feel heat erupt inside of you, as you kiss him back and listen to his hard breathing.

He pulls away after a long, heated moment and cups your face in his hand, staring at you.

Slowly, you lift a hand and gently brush his hair off his forehead, watching his eyes flicker slightly at the touch.

“Can I ask you something?” you say quietly.

He nods silently, his gaze fixed on you.

“What do you think of? When you summon this room?”

Tom’s brows raise like the question surprises him. “That’s what you want to know?” he asks dryly, his lips curving into a smirk.

You nod, letting your fingers trail absently down his face.

Tom pauses for a moment, the smirk fading away as your hands rest against his jaw and your thumbs brush his cheeks softly. “I think about having a place where I can be myself,” he says quietly.

A warmth of a very different kind spreads through your chest, and you’re certain that he can feel your smile against his lips when you lean in and kiss him.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

To request sequels/being tagged in follow-ups, leave a reply in the notes! 💖

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #harry potter #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #soft tom #prompt #fluff #minific #tom riddle imagines #smut #established relationship #anon #tactile #ambiguous house

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love-and-other-potions · 2 years

Text

7x+21

Young Bill x Mute/ Deaf Reader

You're sitting in the library glancing at the numbers written on your parchment. The offending figures have blanks next to them and have been that way since you started. You have no idea where to even start. Stupid Muggle math.

You roll your neck and use this as an excuse to scan the library. Several people are here studying and most are in conversation with someone. There's even a couple snogging against a bookcase. You notice that Madam Pince realized the same thing and her face turns scarlet as she yells at them although you don't hear it. One of the few joys of being deaf: you've never experienced yelling.

Your gaze shifts back to your paper against your will. You close your eyes and put your palms there to try to will away your on-coming headache. You inhale deeply.

A hand suddenly materializes on your shoulder. Without thinking, your right hand shoots out and slaps something soft. Your eyes snap open to see Bill Weasley cradling his jaw. Your hand flies to your mouth in surprise. You immediately begin to sign an apology.

"Bill, I am so sorry! I didn't realize it was you!"

He smiles around the hand putting pressure on his jaw.

"But to be fair, you scared me so you deserved it."

He looks at you in disbelief. He drops his hand from his face to speak to you.

"I am so sorry that I tried to get your attention without scaring you and accidentally scared you anyways."

"Hey, I can read sarcasm mister. Watch it."

"Or what? You'll sign at me loudly?"

"Exactly. I've made grown men cry."

He grins at you as he drags the chair next to you out from under the table.

"So what were you doing before you assaulted me?"

You stick your tongue out at him before you turn back to your parchment. You then remember your earlier frustrations and groan. He wrinkles his eyebrows together and slides the paper over to himself. He lifts his eyes in understanding.

"You're struggling with the Muggle math?"

"Majorly."

"Do you want me to help you?"

You sit up straighter and look at him with wide eyes.

"You understand this?"

He smiles.

"Yes, I enjoy math. I hope to do something with it one day."

"Maybe you can work at Gringott's," you joke.

"Yeah, maybe. So what's confusing you?"

"Uh, is all of it an appropriate answer?"

He rolls his eyes playfully then he turns serious once again.

"Let's look at this one together: 7 (x+3). The first step is to put that 7 with both the x and the 3."

Your eyebrows crease together.

"But what if that 3 doesn't want that 7?"

He looks at you in confusion.

"What?"

"Are you trying to make me an accomplice of that 3's rape by 7?"

He realizes your train of thought and begins to laugh. You watch as he leans his head back and his Adam's apple bobs with the hearty chuckle. You smile to yourself for getting such a beautiful reaction from this handsome man. He calms down and points at the parenthesis.

"These parenthesis are consent bars. They show the numbers that want a turn with a 7."

"Okay, that's better. So 7's a whore?"

"In essence, yes. Since the things in the parenthesis want the 7, we give them 7. We multiply."

He grabs your quill, slips it into your ink bottle, and sets it aside for a moment.

"What's 7 multiplied by x?"

You think for a moment.

"7x."

"Right."

He picks up the quill and writes the "7x" under the equation.

"Now what about 7 multiplied by 3?"

"21."

"Yes."

He writes "+21" next to the "7x". Your new equation reads 7x+21.

"That's all you do."

You scan the other equations. You point at the second to last one.

"This one is different. How do I do that one?"

His eyes shift to the bottom of the page to the equation: 3(x-2).

"It's easier than it looks. It's the same concept. What's 3 multiplied by x?"

"3x."

He writes it.

"What's 3 multiplied by -2?"

"-6."

"Exactly."

He copies '-6' next to '3x', so your final equation is 3x-6. You point at another equation.

"That has a number next to x. Is that the same concept?"

He nods. He poises his quill under the equation 2(3x+7).

"What's 2 multiplied by 3x?"

You pause to think.

"6x?" You guess.

He nods again and writes it down.

"What's 2 multiplied by 7?"

"14."

He scrawls '+14' next to it.

"You're getting the hang of this."

You smile at him.

"Well, I had a great teacher."

He gives a small mock bow while staying seated. The next hour or so, he stays with you and helps if you get frustrated or make any mistakes. Once you get through the last equation, you throw your arms around Bill's neck in victory.

He wraps you in his arms and presses you to his body. You meant it as a friendly gesture, but you didn't take into account how warm he was. You sigh to yourself as you let go of him after holding him a few seconds too long.

"Y/N, I have one more math question. What's Bill multiplied by Y/N?"

You smirk.

"12."

He raises an eyebrow.

"12?"

"Yeah. As in meet me at the Three Broomstix tomorrow at noon."

You wink at him.

"Just to clarify, that's a date right?"

You roll your eyes.

"Yes Bill. If things go well tomorrow, we'll be dating."

"I am praying to every deity that I know of that tomorrow goes well."

"You're a cheeseball."

But you grin nonetheless.

"Yes and if my prayers are answered, I'll be your cheeseball."

"That you will, that you will."

You slide your ink and parchment into your bag and stand. You lean over and leave a kiss on his cheek before leaving the library.

#mute reader #deaf reader #bill weasley #bill weasley x reader

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Note

teacher!levi and teacher!reader headcanons please 🥺

author note :: i expected for this to be better but idk,,, um, you know maybe it’s just me who wishes i executed it better but i wrote this at 3am that’s my excuse. ANYWAY I HOPE U ENJOY ANON :-))) i know it’s not headcanons but here!! also my ask box is always open to feel free to drop by !!

word count :: 5.4k (after i had to severely cut the word count down because my tumblr wouldn’t let me post the longer version with more detail,,,,)

honestly you’ve never fit in well with the math teachers in particular but you’re still amicable with most

however, there’s one unbearable member of the group that happens to want to play jump rope with your patience constantly

and that person just so happens to be mr ackerman

every single staff meeting the both of you sit furthest away from each other whilst silently exchanging bitter glares

maybe it’s his stony disposition or his unrealistically harsh grading system that makes him seem so off putting to you.

or perhaps it’s your soft and gentle approach to teaching that drives him up a wall

but to make matters simple, the two of you have never got along. nearly everything he says you disagree with and nearly everything you say he has to rebuke.

every outlandish suggestion of his at meetings is met with firm disapproval from you and every time you bring up wanting to provide the children with more time for extracurricular activities he sneers in annoyance

today he’s proposing a plan to set exams as soon as possible

???

you wonder if he’s even thinking with his head attached to his neck because it’ll be impossible for the children to handle all of the content in the form of an exam paper so soon

the workload he’s been pushing onto his math class has become far too ridiculous for your liking and you want to put an end to the man’s reign of terror

it just so happens your classes are scheduled in the blocks next to each other meaning he always sees your students an hour before you do

it’s got to the point where your pupils trudge into english class completely EXHAUSTED

the other day a boy fainted because of lack of sleep and now mr ackerman has the audacity to put forward the exam dates???

“we need to instill these children with discipline. taking them by surprise will give them a much needed reality check.”

you groan at his speech and raise a hand

“may i interject?”

professor ackerman’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek the irritation is painted on his face but he nods although he seems reluctant

“these children do not need standardized exams to-”

“would you like for me to completely scrap exams from the curriculum?” without even allowing for you to present your argument he has to cut you off with a mocking grin

“levi, i think-”

“that's mr ackerman to you.”

his blunt correction has you rolling your eyes because YES!! you understand the two of you aren’t exactly the best of friends but he doesn’t even want to be on a first name basis with a colleague of two years??

his pettiness has your blood boiling in searing displeasure

“you have to stop going so hard on these children.”

he’s shuffling through some paperwork not even batting an eye in your direction.

“personally, we aren’t hard enough but of course the english teacher has trouble understanding that.”

the jab he makes at your job only causes the anger inside of you to bubble up again

why does teaching english have ANYTHING to do with this???

“you teach math yet you can’t calculate the reasoning behind your subpar love life. do not insult english.”

personal insults are your favourite to throw at him because he always gets so riled up

and actually for once you have the answer to a math question.

the reason why his love life is so uneventful has to be because of this :

his personality + his obnoxious humour + his looks = a good looking but undatable man

his jaw clenches and the grip he has on the stack of papers in his hands strengthens

ok,, that is kinda hot but that is not relevant at all

you’re able to make out miss ral one of the other math teachers make a move to speak and god you fight the urge to punch her every day because she’s always gushing about mr ackerman

seeing as you don’t want to punch her or anyone for that matter you turn to give her a “if you speak right now i swear to god i will lose my shit” look

she gets the memo incredibly quickly because her mouth closes shut immediately

mr ackerman takes a sip out of the cup of black tea next to him. “i would appreciate if you just sat back and let me do what’s best.”

“children fainting in my lesson is not what’s best.” your rebuttal catches him off guard and he seems more than a little surprised

“wait- fainted??”

you eyes flick over to mr zacharias, you had told him to pass the message on but the way he’s sheepishly looking at the floor avoiding your eyes clearly tells you all you have to know

“looks like someone forgot to pass the message onto you but the other day falco fainted in english.”

“is he- is he okay?? did he say why?”

eyebrows raising you’re quite surprised to see any sort of reaction from him let alone concern

“he stayed up all night completing your homework.”

lips pressing together into a fine line it almost looks as if he’s guilty

“i’ll talk to him about it later.” his voice is back to its usually plain tone and any trace of his previous worry has been masked.

an awkward silence follows. he coughs choosing to not continue the discussion about exams.

principal smith takes the hint and moves on to discuss planned school trips

HOORAH victory!!!

yet another day where you’ve saved your students

“who is fallacy and why are they pathetic?” a few snorts and giggles are heard around the class and you force yourself to laugh at falco's miserable attempt at a joke

you’ve noticed falco’s been cracking more jokes around his new seat mate gabi.

she’s small but feisty always willing to debate and she’s really a joy to teach although she can get a little bit aggressive with the others at times

honestly it’s quite obvious that falco has a fat crush on her. well, actually it’s been obvious from the moment she step foot into your class

and... you couldn’t just ignore the way falco looked at her could you?? and there was an empty space next to him too sooooo, what harm would there be in placing the two together?

it seems as if your attempt at getting the both of them to talk has worked. gabi and falco compete desperately for the top position in the class and are two of the best students you’ve had in a while

also after the day falco fainted in class gabi has been noticeably nicer. things like asking if he’s drank water or how much he’s slept

you have a small inkling that she may like him back

and the budding romance is adorable to you because you too once had childhood crushes

it feels rather nostalgic to see the two interact

but today you notice the two aren’t in

in fact, you notice half of the class isn’t?

“where are the others?” your question sends a jolt through one of your present students but he stays silent choosing to pretend to clean his glasses as a distraction

crossing your arms over your chest you walk over towards his desk

“udo, you can tell me what it is.”

“professor ackerman said not to tell.” udo looks petrified and you’re just kinda wondering what in the hell is going on

lucky for you his resolve is thin and he quickly cracks under pressure

“okay. you can’t say i told.”

nodding in agreement he looks around making sure no one else hears what exactly it is he’s about to disclose

“he’s kept some people back to talk to them about something top secret. i don’t know what but he asked for the students who like you.”

at that you feel a little bitter because if he asked for the student who liked you why on earth is half the class still here??

but oh well, you guess you can’t please them all

“oh no, no, no. you’ve got it wrong. we all wanted to stay but he didn’t let us.”

udo looks genuine so you let it slide

either way it doesn’t really matter as long as the majority prefer you over that sick and twisted math teacher you’re alright

“he does know he’s cut into my class time right?”

“falco told him that and he whispered something about how you’re bothersome.”

you???? bothersome???

WHEN HE’S THE ONE BOTHERING EVERYONE?/!:£:!/)

you don’t even look back as you walk out frankly furious at what’s happened

english is important

ACTUALLY!!!

ENGLISH > MATH

you will stand by that till the day you die

your knuckle meets with the wooden surface of your sworn enemy’s classroom door and almost automatically you’re able to hear the shuffle of chairs and padding of numerous footsteps approach

the door swings open and you step aside to allow your missing students to pass through

they look nervous but one look at your reassuring smile lets them ease up and relax

“well.” a voice behind you snaps “look who paid me a visit.”

“we’re talking about this later.”

you try your best to sound serious but you don’t know if you pull it off as well as he does because he just ends up giving you a disappointed sort of look

“y/n. stick to being the good cop it suits you better.”

“we are not on first name basis. you said it yourself.” is your narrowed comeback

finally turning to face him you’re surprised when your eyes travel to the triangle of space behind him and you’re able to get a peek of what looks to be a list of books on his whiteboard

pride and prejudice

wuthering heights

jane eyre

ville-

before you’re able to read the rest he moves in front of your line of vision

he’s got quite the selection but,, when did he of all the people on this planet start showing any interest in literature?

“the books on the board what’s that about?”

your inquiry flies over his head and he shuts the door behind him completely

his face doesn’t move and if it does it only shows the slightest hint of confusion

“what books are you talking about?” he replies and don’t know why your knees feel a little weak when he looks you straight in the eyes

snap.

out.

of.

it.

“i saw books on the board.”

“you saw wrong.” he barks back and he’s getting agitated now

maybe you did imagine it...

and you have to get back to teach your class so okay fair enough you’ll let it go because you do know you have a habit of daydreaming randomly

however that doesn’t stop you from giving him another skeptical look before you leave because there is NO WAY you imagined it, but it is you and it really could be a possibility

the click clack of your heels against the floor sound out as you remove yourself from the conversation

you assume he’s returned to his classroom

that’s why it catches you by surprise when you hear a hesitant voice behind you

“there were no books on the board.”

you don’t know why he has to tell you that again because it only makes himself look all the more suspicious

“but if they were a list of book recommendations then what would you recommend i read?”

the question is peculiar coming from him

are you in an alternate universe?

is this a dream?

are you talking to a clone?

a robot?

because this can NOT be the same man you’ve been working with for two years

maybe he’s having a change of heart?

but that sounds unlikely

maybe he’s planning to read the book and somehow with that big brain of his formulate a calculation to score it a measly two out of ten

yeah. that sounds more likely.

nevertheless, you still want to give him a recommendation, maybe he’ll find out he’s into books this way

“you should totally check out pride and prejudice :-)”

for once you’re smiling at him and he doesn’t know what to do because the change is sudden but he doesn’t say a word after that

instead he retreats into his classroom

god.

now you’re sure he’s just asked to form a stupid calculation or whatever the hell it is math teachers do.

“he likes you.” hange has a shit eating grin on their face and you can’t help but narrow your eyes and sigh in exasperation

no he does not like you but you don’t try to correct hange because you know they’re firm in their stupid belief

“would you ever date him?” hange fiddles with the last of their potato salad absentmindedly waiting on your reply

the question literally has you choking on your lunch

“i would rather fight for survival in the wilderness. thank you for asking.”

“oh come on... he’s got a thing for you. you read romance novels all the time you should be able to tell he does.”

“yeah and that thing he has for me is wanting to shove my head onto a pitchfork. you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” shoving a piece of pasta into your mouth you sigh dreamily at the taste. it serves as a momentary distraction

you get one lunch break and you are not!!!! in the mood to talk about him whilst you’re on that break

he’s attractive

and you have to admit he looks handsome in his crisp white button up and pristine black suit AND his cologne is really...

okay, you are digressing from the point

none of what you just said means anything!!!

at surface level he seems like a catch but it’s what’s on the inside that matters and he said he finds english stupid

that’s more than enough of a reason to dislike the guy?

he thinks stuff like the pythagorean theorem and y = mx+c are entertaining

y = mx+c ??? over literature???

you read books to teach and you read books for your own enjoyment

it would be a complete travesty if you had a crush on a book hater

and levi ackerman most certainly can be classed as a book hater.

a pessimistic book hater if the specifics are needed

“OH! SORRY Y/N GOTTA BLAST MOB’S OVER THERE!!!!!”

you don’t even get the chance to say goodbye because hange makes an eager run towards moblit

hange and moblit are inseparable, both are the shared heads of the science department and since he’s been off on sick leave recently you understand why hange’s rushed off to greet him

you wish you had a teacher friend like that but the sad truth is you’re pretty much a lone wolf. the other english teachers are wrinkly old pickles and talk about antiques or quiz shows :-(

“this seat free?”

no way.

it’s not him

it can't be

what does he even want??

“um, well yeah it is free b-.”

“good.” he takes the seat without you even inviting him and now you’re stuck in an awkward situation you didn’t even expect to be in today

you're about to burst into tears because is it too much to ask for a peaceful lunch period???

mr ackerman clears his throat and places a book in the center of the table. “pride and prejudice although not my cup of tea was... mildly enjoyable.”

wait...

is this him...

admitting defeat!??

HELLLOOOOO

you are over the moon right now because you know he really had to have enjoyed it a lot and is simply choosing to withhold that information for his own reputation

“i’m happy to hear you took a liking to it.” you’re munching away at your pasta a little more upbeat now

“okay but the start of the book assuming all single men want a wife? no, all i want is a good night’s rest for once. also mrs bennet needs to calm down, elizabeth can marry who the hell she wa-”

“someone’s a little passionate aren’t they?” you giggle into your glass of water and you catch mr ackerman frowning

“i liked it okay.”

“i thought you said it was only mildly enjoyable just now?” grinning and looking at him through your lashes his cheeks become red

you guess he’s angry or something but that’s the usual with him

“yeah, whatever. i just wanted to play fair and apologise.”

“apologise?” oh wow, now your interest has really peaked because never in the past two years has he apologised to ANYONE

not even principal smith for the one time he flipped out and nearly cursed at a mouthy student at parent's evening

grimacing a little before he does it he finally speaks again.

“english is important. i’m sorry.”

your lips tug up into a bright smile

well???

this is a great interaction??

an apology coming out of levi ackerman of all people

“apology accepted! i’m glad to know you liked the book but now that we’re a tad bit friendlier with each other i wanted to ask for a favour.” your eyes gleam and he swears he can see specks of shining stars in them

“...okay, it depends.”

he’s warming up to you so he considers it

“please don’t cut into my lesson time levi.” his name slips out of your mouth but it’s so natural you don’t even care to correct yourself

“i’m sorry about that too y/n.” your name now ventures out of his mouth too as it tests the waters

wordlessly the two of you agree to first name basis

BUT more important matters are at hand such as how he’s issued you yet another apology?

this is satire surely

because why is he so willing all of a sudden...?

well, that's the power of pride and prejudice, wow you’re really thanking the heavens for blessing this world with jane austen’s existence

jane austen. a woman capable of remarkable things, she's even managed to make an unmoving book hater somehow become a lover

poking at your tuna pasta you and levi are now quiet.

“soooooo, any opinions on mr wickham?” you ask the question hoping to initiate a longer conversation than before

and luckily for you your attempt works

SUCCESS!!

levi pinches the bridge of his nose and the creases on his forehead show he clearly isn't particularly fond of wickham

“don’t get me started he’s so indescribably annoying?”

ok, ok, ok

you don’t even know how it happens but you and levi really hit it off

weeks have passed and you and him have even become lunch buddies

it was so shocking to moblit at first that he dropped his lunch on the floor when he saw you and levi enthusiastically exchanging words

then again, two mr wickham haters are bound to get along

you’re seriously wondering how the two of you ever survived as mortal enemies

yeah, you still disagree a lot but you’re getting there!!

sometimes he helps you out when your computer stops running and in exchange you’re willing to offer him book recommendations

he swears he doesn't want any recommendations from you but you know he enjoys it

yesterday he got microsoft excel out and showed you how useful it really was and you went :O because you never really understood the need for it at all

you’re a little bit of a granny when it comes to tech...

and just today at lunch you recommended he checks some plays out but his nose wrinkled at the mention of shakespeare so the both of you went through a long list of dramas and eventually you were able to interest him in j.b. priestely's an inspector calls

another victory for you!!

anyway, right now the two of you are sitting inside of the staff room seeing as it's that time of the month again.

time for the monthly staff meeting

it's the first one you've had since you and levi became friends and you're worried the both of you will be back at it butting heads

wait, are you friends?

well, you wouldn't mind if that were the case but to be honest you would like to be a little bit more than friends mayb-

no!!! no!!! no!!! stupid thought!!! you retract that statement immediately

no you do not want to be more than friends with levi ackerman, yes he's lovely to a degree but you are not going to elaborate on why it's a terrible idea to fancy him

okay wait, let's elaborate for the sake of elaborating

he's surprisingly charming and wittier than you thought he would be. the fun conversations are making your days now and to be honest it is nice to have someone to spend lunch with (hange usually skips out on lunch all together to tinker in the science labs and set up experiments)

wait... weren't you suppose to explain why you don't want to get with him?

you're an idiot and you don't notice how dumb you really are until everyone just kinda gawks at the both of you because it's so odd seeing you in the same room let alone within a three feet radius of each other.

fuck, you completely forgot you and levi sat at opposite ends of the room

principal smith enters and even he looks visibly shocked at the change in seats but he doesn't mention it and you're grateful he doesn't because you didn't purposefully sit here it just happened on accident

erwin turns in your direction and smiles

"would you like to start off with your proposition for extracurriculars?"

nodding your head you begin passionately.

"well, i'd like to say i don't think we offer the children enough. we have spare funding so why not open another club? cooking perhaps? i understand many of you may not understand the importance of teaching them how to cook but-"

"do you have an obsession for setting these children up for failure?" tensing up you notice it's levi who's spoke and he doesn't sound remotely happy

blinking once and then twice he realizes his tone isn't the best and he mutters an apology "sorry, go ahead i'll add in when you're done."

whispers travel through the room straight away

"did he just say sorry?"

"actually why are those two sitting together?"

"do you think they're you know...?"

miss ral who's sat a little further away is the next person to disagree with you

"i understand the intention but would it not be better to let them have extra math lessons?"

"oh, so you can get a pay rise?" the comeback you make is aggressive and dripping in displeasure

she sits up face burning up

"no- no- absolutely not i take pleasure in teaching all of my classes." flustered and trying to hide her nerves she takes a sip out of her water bottle

you want to pour all of the water out onto that ginger hair of hers

the reason why her interjection is getting on your nerves is due to the fact you overheard her and another one of the math teachers plan to bring this specific point up

and you are well aware that her reasoning behind it has nothing to do with the children

she couldn't care less about them

"do not make me repeat what you and mr bozado were chit chatting about earlier today."

the threat is enough to silence her and just when you think you've handled the situation levi has to give his input

"let's ignore petra's motivations and talk about how teaching these kids how to cook means nothing if they have no tradable skills to offer in the real world." levi's not looking at you. he's either too annoyed or too preoccupied with his thought process

at that moment you feel naive, you thought maybe he would try to understand your opinion seeing as he's been spending so much time with you as of recent but that looks to not be the case

murmurs of agreement fill the room at his statement and you feel pathetic

it's practically the entire room against you now

genuinely how is it these people can manage to be such spoiled sports about everything?

"recently, i asked all of my classes to write an essay about school stress. maybe you won't understand my views because you haven't read their pieces but they need a fucking break." the expletive flies out of your mouth without warning and you flush in embarrassment

that

was

not

professional.

"oh god, i'm sorry i got worked up i shouldn't hav-" fumbling over all of your words you feel even more mortified

the principal raises his hand signalling you stop and you clamp your mouth shut. you're in huge trouble that's for sure

but,,, in spite of the clear difference in opinion between you and the other teachers, soft and well spoken principal smith says the unthinkable

"i have the final say and i believe you are coming from a good place after reading your student's work. how would you feel about running the new cooking club?"

scanning his face for a second you can tell his question is legitimate and the wave of relief that washes over you has never felt better than ever

sighing contently you agree and as the topic of conversation shifts to something else entirely you sense your heart rate picking up

you feel like you're back to square one with levi.

it's yet another day where you’ve saved your students and you should be feeling overjoyed but if anything you feel a little deflated

you wish he would have come around and understood but you can't teach and old dog new tricks

again, the feeling of disappointment wears you down

two weeks have passed since then and your favourite time of year has come. it’s spring term meaning MACBETH

the english curriculum includes plays and it just so happens that today is your first lesson covering shakespeare

and you LOVE shakespeare

something about all the intricate foreshadowing always has you excited

but some children are missing

and it’s way too many to blame on sickness

so you wait for a few minutes but it's consistently radio silent

the last time this happened the culprit had been levi and he promised to never cut into your lesson time

but you could count on him to break his promise after the fiasco that was the monthly meeting

is he back to hating you and hating literature?

well, that's his loss if that's the case!! and no!! you will not upset yourself over the loss of the budding friendship

sighing you get to your feet making a beeline to the door but gabi and falco rush to stop you

awkward chuckles activated they wave their hands to get your attention “OH NO, they’ll only be five minutes!!” their sentence comes out as one big blur of words but you manage to understand them

now you’re doubtful because you know falco and gabi would usually ignore you and allow you to walk out

giving them a knowing glance the pair look between each other

their eyes are clearly communicating and asking if it’s alright to tell you

“i promise i won’t be mad.” you sigh

perhaps if you reassure them they’ll be more likely to spill the beans

“it’s not that you... i don't know. you might be upset.” gabi isn't one to care much for other's feelings so you're slightly anxious even though you shouldn't be

but you’re a tough nut to crack. so, absolutely not. you are not going to upset yourself over whatever it is

“i won’t be hurt. i’ve suffered through reading some of the most emotional classics to ever exist.” hitting your chest with your fist you wince a little because you hit yourself a little too hard

falco’s seems to be too shy to come out with it so gabi takes the lead as she normally does

“some students were talking badly about you so mr ackerman kept them behind to have a talk.”

oh.

yeah, actually you are a teeny weeny bit disheartened because you think you’re nice to all of your pupils but it’s nothing too bad, not everyone will like you

“if that’s all i’ll go get them. thank you for letting me know.” giving them two thumbs up you leave the class immediately

levi is probably scolding them to hell and back

not because he cares for you but because he hates disrespect in general

as you’re nearing the open door of his classroom you hear something you never thought would emerge from levi’s room

“final question. why does mr darcy say he doesn’t want to dance with elizabeth at first?” oh yeah, that’s levi’s voice for sure

an english question?

is he quizzing them on pride and prejudice?

you wait hoping your students don't fail you and are able to provide the correct answer.

“ummm... she’s not pretty enough!!”

levi hums “you answered all five questions right. do you all know why?”

you can’t see the children’s faces but they have to be confused if there’s no immediate response

he grunts in agitation “because your english teacher works hard to teach you every single day. have some respect because that teacher of yours is one in a million.”

taking your bottom lip in between your teeth you fight the urge to smile

“do you know how at every single staff meeting there’s only ever one teacher fighting for you all and what you want. i can assure you that teacher isn’t me, but i believe you can all guess who i'm talking about.”

your heart does a back flip in your chest and you feel jittery but in that really fuzzy good way

like that super duper fuzzy and hazy good way

he’s really very sweet for saying all of this and you're now smiling like an idiot

one pupil takes a chance to make amends “we’re sorry mr ackerman.”

but before levi can give them a response you clap your hands together and walk in unannounced

“apology accepted, now if you want to all be forgiven forever please return to class and answer the questions on the board!” directing them to the door with your hands you make sure they're conscious fo the fact you aren't mad at them

still, never have you seen them so eager to run off to analyze macbeth. you guess levi's deathly stare is the cause for it

holding back a laugh you clear your throat after the last student leaves

“thank you levi :-)”

it’s quiet for a second and you think to ask him about what has been gnawing at your mind

“you didn’t have to do that. you disagreed with me before so... why did you?”

“i say this at every meeting and you never listen but children need to be disciplined.” his unchangeable tone is unwelcoming

again it’s awkwardly silent and you sorta regret even coming over to see what was going on because now you and levi are just having an uncomfortable staring contest

then he scratches the back of his neck and heaves a heavy breath

“it may also be because i really fucking like you, but i look like an idiot saying that when we’ve been at each other's necks for two years.”

oh.

the sudden and brutally honest confession has the wind knocked out of you, you’re stunned

and then you get hit by it too. the realization hits you like rain hits umbrellas on stormy days. you like him too.

you like him for his witty sense of humour, his pure honesty and his hatred for mr wickham only serves as a bonus

yes, you have your differences. many of them. but you like him

he’s no longer a book hater and so by default you can fancy him. he goes against none of your guidelines essentially

you like him, he likes you back?’//’.;

[SCREAMS]

“well, what do you say? will you be this mr darcy's elizabeth bennet?” hearing the cheesy pickup line from him of all people has the butterflies in your stomach exploding in delight

“you sound weird, where's the grumpy math teacher from before?" now you and him are simply shamelessly flirting but HEY!! you have no complaints at all

he scoffs at your sarcastic question

"do you want the equation for a two dimensional heart on a graph beca-"

"can i just kiss you?"

wOWIE are you being bold today y/n???

thankfully you don't have to wait for his answer. levi’s right hand pulls your face in and he slams his lips against yours. he gives your waist a squeeze and you hold him tighter by the neck in response. he has a way of somehow making it all feel gentle and relaxed in the same breath

and... you know what? maybe you should have recommended pride and prejudice to him earlier

but oh well.

what matters the most right now is that you're kissing your mr darcy!!

and he’s kissing his elizabeth bennet

:-)

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi headcanons #levi drabbles #levi scenario #teacher levi #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #leviiattacks #attack on titan x reader #levi fluff #modern levi #modern levi ackerman

646 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 3 years

Note

i just reread ll (after seeing that yoongi pic on twt..... loml) AND UGH IM SO MAD AT THAT FIGHT WHY DID HE SAY THAT AND OH MY GOD WHERE IS OC SLEEPING OMG DID SHE STAY THE NIGHT AT TAEHYUNGS (not like that ..... nasties 😑) WHATS GOING ON. WHAT IS JUNGKOOK GONNA DO WHEN YOONGI OR SEOKJIN FIND HIM WHAT IF YOONGI KILLS HIM OR SMTH

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

you leave jungkook alone in your dorm after a fight — but at the same time, he gets left alone with yoongi and jin, who still aren't sure what to think of him especially now

aka part two of the ll couple's first fight

"i think i'm gonna crash."

seokjin yawns and says out loud without the knowledge that he's speaking out loud, his hands fumbling for the dorm keys amongst the numerous keychains he has a knack for collecting

"you drank one cup of coffee, jin," yoongi snorts because as far as he recalls two hours ago, jin even made him drink his remaining coffee because he couldn't take any more

yeah well sCREW jin for trying to stay awake the whole day alright!!!! he made a roadtrip out of scouring each individual part he wanted to add to his fancy PC setup he's been saving a pretty penny for

he doesn't say it at all but yoongi carries immense happiness in tagging along with errands even if it serves him no purpose <3 sometimes he just likes being a keychain to his best friends and he's happy!!

"yeah, hot coffee — the worst," jin elaborates his dislike for hot coffee even if both you and yoongi heard it a hundred times before

he's noisily trying to find the right key and he's surprised you haven't woken up and just oPENED the door for them, but he's cluelessly and thoroughly entertaining yoongi aka the guy who hAS his own key yet refuses to use just so that he could see his friend suffering some more

at this point, your neighbors probably think you’re getting robbed but thankfully jin finally manages to put in the right key, a satisfactory sigh leaving him when it finally clicks and turns the right way

the dorm is dark and noT dim like what they’re used to, probably something to be blamed to the hellfire of rain that’s going on outside

jin’s carelessly removing his shoes by his own feet, only stopping when yoongi harshly pinches him on the side before he does it to himselF on the inside of his arm

“ow! what was-“

he soothes the sore spot on his side because yoongi can reallyyyyyy put his two fingers close without pinching and therefore make it hurt even more, eyes all around the place before it stops on a familiar figure

a familiar figure, sure. welcome? not exactly.

"huh. you're still here? are you staying the night?"

seokjin asks out loud to jungkook who’s standing by himself beside the couch with his hands bunched, worried eyes fixed on them

"where's y/n?"

yoongi asks and it’s made evident how the both of them have different intentions to acquire for, but they all boil down to you nonetheless

jungkook’s throat dries because it hasn’t even been an hour that he’s left alone in yoor dorm, not expecting it either that your two friends would come home this quick

"that's the thing,” he mumbles and yoongi picks it up first, slithering around jin to confirm if he’s really hearing jungkook

what does he mEAN that’s the thing???

"y/n left."

jungkook’s with the two of them now but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel cornered even if the two of them are positioned as if they’re trapping him

he feels more alone than he is cornered, fresh tears stinging at the back of his eyes that he doesn’t want to show yoongi nor jin

"what did you just say?" yoongi asks more in confusion than in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at your boyfriend

"why would she leave at this hour and at this weather? not to mention, leave you alone with us."

jin raises a valid point to put into everyone’s head how bizarre the situation is and not to spook jungkook out, but it sounds like the latter to him which is why he snorts at the startled look

"calm down, kid. we're not gonna rough you up if that's what you're thinking," he reminds him because they’re not tHAT unhinged when it comes to you, walking to the refrigerator to down the nearest water bottle, ".... not unless??"

he still carries a playful edge to him because as much as he’s worried about you, atleast one of the three of them in this room should be far from having a breakdown to level the others

yoongi’s not done with his questioning streak because he presses further, sitting at the couch in your exact seat that makes jungkook gulp

god it’s now just hitting him that you left

"why did she leave?"

"w-we fought."

there’s slight hesitance in his tone because he’s not exactly surE if he should be telling that he fought with you to your friends, but he sets aside the possible consequences because after all, it’s you that they’re conversing about

yoongi nods to himself, having a hunch that the both of you must’ve fought and when he looks up at him, he only belatedly realizes that your boyfriend’s now blonde

"what did you do?"

he goes straight for it, startling jungkook

he’s not necessarily offended that yoongi asked him what he did because if you ask him, this is really aLL his fault

"i-i'll get to that but uh shouldn't we look for y/n first?"

...

..... okay that was understandable

yoongi knows where he’s coming from, nodding to acknowledge him

"not the first time this happened," he admits quietly and that leaves jungkook speechless, watching him intently which is why it made sense that yoongi’s not out of his mind panicking just like he is, "y/n left the dorm when she and seokjin fought."

yoongi says it even quieter and jungkook gets why, because as low as his mumble went, seokjin still managed to hear it

it must’ve been a sore spot that jin doesn’t want to tell him all about, atleast right now, because he looks down to his feet as if he’s been burnt

"it was a serious fight, but it was long ago,” he mumbles under his breath and the reminder of their fight which he’s tried to bury in the back of his head throws him off his feet slightly, “she doesn't really leave when it's just a petty fight or something."

yoongi somberly smiles at jin as some sort of apology for bringing it up, not wanting to put salt on the wounds as he just redirects his attention to jungkook

"i'm asking you for the last time, jungkook — what did you do?"

there’s no direct pressure behind his words but the three of them know that it would drastically help if he just said so

there’s no moral compass that he tries to steer because he himself wants to tell yoongi and jin, even if it means having to put the little respect and love they have for him on the line

jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat and retells all the way from what happened with the hoseok situation until he finishes with what happened merely an hour ago, almost scared to look up at the both of them

jin humorlessly chuckles and shakes his head to himself, still perched against the kitchen counter

"low fucking blow, kid."

surprisingly, yoongi became the lenient one

jungkook’s head aches because the two of them switched attitudes in a matter of minutes!!!! jin is the one that sounds like he hates being in the same room as him and yoongi is the one that tolerates hin generally

he could oNLY assume that the retelling of the events must’ve hit jin one way or another, somehow connected to what the two of you fought about long ago

yoongi takes the liberty to speak after jin’s remark, nudging jungkook by the knee to sit beside him

"y/n's hurt, of course, because as much as she had flings and casual fucks and whatnot," he trails around but doesn’t look to jungkook who’s wide-eyed thy he’s even letting him sit beside him, “you're her first boyfriend."

...

....

...... what

“i am?”

jungkook asks in confusion and the regret creeps up to him not a second later, the ringing in his ears blocking out the rain and even jin’s announcement that he’ll call you

he nods and kook knows that he’s not only saying this to pull at his tail, simply because he’s aware that yoongi doesn’t joke around with him

with jin entering his room to call you, that leaves him alone with yoongi and it barely registers in his head that this is the first time it’s only the two of them after that time when he threatened to give him a knuckle sandwich and the sort

"was starting to entertain and like the idea of you in y/n's life — our lives, y'know?"

yoongi initiates conversation and kook gets startled even more, tripping over his words because he can’t grasp at the situation fully

"i'm sorry, yoongi. i-i really am."

"hate to say this but," he clicks the roof of his mouth with his tongue, fiddling with his bracelets, "i know you are."

???

jungkook’s confusion at your friend’s words is what distracts him from his remorse, not believing his ears

yoongi believes him??? he knOws that he actually feels sorry for having done what he did??

"y/n doesn't like being accused, i think no one really does," he starts off carefully, “it's not my story to tell but it's for you to understand that y/n, y'know...."

jungkook swallows the lump on his throat for whatever yoongi’s gonna say next, a furrow in his brow as he chooses his words

“she doesn't come from a past wherein assurance is at face value,” he clears his throat, "that's all i can tell you."

jungkook nods and he tries to contain his thoughts because he doesn’t want to assume. he’s only gonna take what you give and he’ll willingly wait for that time you tell him all about his past

he does have a clue about your family because he asked that one time if he’d be meeting your parents because you’re a senior and you’re graduating soon, but you only shaked your head no and said “yoongs and jin are enough” for your ceremony

yoongi feels sorry, but he’s not sure for who :(

all he knows is that his heart aches, even if it’s for the boy in front of him that he swore he’d hate, but is now unconsciously worming his way into his heart

he’s no stranger to what jungkook feels because he felt the same type of territoriality and the insecurity that came along with it — the one he used to have over you, in that platonic soulmate sense he didn’t realize at the time

"it's not my place to tell you either, but sooner or later, insecurity will consume you, jungkook."

the guy in question nods eagerly because yoongi manages to address the struggle he has in his mind, acknowledging the issue at-hand fully

"y/n can't baby you forever,” yoongi sighs, “but you can't be ditched whenever she feels like it either."

did...

did yoongi just take his side.....

jungkook kNOWS in the back of his head that yoongi’s neutral, but it all just registers in his head that for the first time, yoongi’s on his side, even in a sense

"talk it out. just sleep in her room for the meantime. fix it in the morning,” he starts to gather himself to stand, pausing to look at jungkook in the eye, "i'd hate to see my soulmate hurting."

the thing is, jungkook knows that yoongi’s your soulmate :-)

you told him that once and as much as you explained that it was only platonic, jungkook quickly understood it, much to your surprise

he knows he doesn’t know the entirety of you, but he knows that when he looks at yoongi, he’s looking at you too :)

yoongi gives him the ghost of a smile, making jungkook blink twice

"sooner or later, the two of us need to talk."

jungkook’s contented with that, smiling back at him

"good night, yoongi."

"good night, jungkook."

( ♡ )

ok.,.,.

“don’t come home, it’s pouring. or go back to your dorm, whatever. i don’t care.”

okay you dO in fact care!!!

it’s been more or less two hours since you left the dorm and you know this because jungkook’s been texting you without fail, only stopping twenty minutes ago that makes you look at the time

it’s 11 o’clock :O

either he’s asleep like he usually would be at this time, or he walked home

in fact, you don’t even know if jungkook is still at your dorm

your phone rings all of a sudden that it makes you flinch, scrambling to see who it was and you don’t know if it’s disappointment or relief coating you when you saw that it was jin

"and where is my favorite girl at this time of the night?"

you could only chuckle as you share a glance with the person whose dorm you crashed in, sending an eager greeting with his mouth full

"i'm at taehyung's. we're eating brownies right now."

when you knocked on tae’s door just two hours ago, the only thing he greeted you with was with a towel!!

he didn’t ask why you’re practically soaked in front of his doorstep because for whatever it is, it must probably be in good reason

truth be told, you didn’t even knOw where you were supposed to go but then tae popped into your head as the only sane person you know that would let you in at this time of the night without prior notice

it was a simple “jungkook and i fought.” to which he only nodded to, turned on the tv for you, and started baking brownies

"mhmm. what kind?"

you chew on the chocolate fudge, slightly chuckling at what jin’s insinuating

"the kind that doesn't leave you disoriented."

he hums at that and you could picture him swiveling on his gaming chair he bought just a week ago, his phone tucked to his ear closely

"the same kind that makes you able enough to come home tonight?"

"yeah,” you breathlessly agree, fiddling with the matching bracelet you have with jungkook, “same kind."

you could only assume now that they've seen jungkook and he's still saying there, all alone but with them

your heart warms at the thought that indirectly, jin’s making you come home to reunite you with jungkook, knowing that there’s an impending conversation sooner or later

"want me to pick you up? you'll get a cold."

"i'll borrow tae's umbrella. i'll come home when we finish the brownies."

the both of you know that it’s code for you just wanting a little more time before you come back, and also because you really wanna dO finish the brownies that tae warmly made for yoy

"mkay," jin smiled at your response, "i'll lock the door but just send me a text and i'll open it for you."

"won't you be sleeping?"

"i'll stay up. i'm not sleepy."

jin replies just as quick, a complete 180 to what he said when he initially came home that he wanted to crash because of the hot coffee he drank

you wordlessly thank him and he acknowledges it, happy to atleast know that you heeded his concern for you to come home tonight

"get home safe. love you."

it’s not only minutes later than you thank taehyung immensely and promise to take him to the aquarium as your thanks, finding yourself in your dorm that seokjin ushers you into with a peck on your head

you rush to your room and you’re greeted with the airconditioning turned on, seeing a lump beneath your comforter that you automatically know it’s jungkook sleeping

you're still damp from the rain but you change quickly to the first set of clothes you can grab from your drawers, not wasting a second longer

you sneak into your own bed, the same one that’s carrying jungkook

his sleep hasn’t even been the deepest and the moment he feels a shuffle beside him, he’s woken up immediately

“i’m here.”

jungkook realizes it’s you with the way your voice is soft and the way you hold his arm when you climb into the covers, wordlessly embracing him from behind

"i'm sorry. it's all my fault,” he says sincerely as he turns his body so he could face you, caging you in with his arm

"i'm sorry i stormed out on you."

he feels you nuzzle to the crook of his neck and it calms him down, the familiar scent of you enough to make his eyes close without fear

it only hits you now that this is the first time the two of you cuddle, much less share a bed

"love you."

it’s barely audible but it leaves you nonetheless, not expecting a reply in return but you get one anyways from a sleepy yet overwhelmingly-content jungkook

"i love you the most."

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

#stem koo #stem koo misc.#jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenario #jungkook writing #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff

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ptergwen · 3 years

Note

Hi val! Got a request, it's okay if you don't wanna write it, but can you write about peter telling the reader he's going on a huge mission and he's excited about it but the reader is so worried they end up arguing? But when peter gets back from mission all bruised, the reader is still upset but dresses his wound anyway and it ends up with fluff??

abort mission

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, and angst

a/n: woah woah woah i ended up writing way more than i expected but i loved this request so much :,) i hope you do too

“we’re staying in this, like, super fancy castle while we’re there. it’s gonna be awesome,” peter rambles to you. he takes all the clean shirts in his drawer and throws them into a suitcase.

he’s packing for a mission in europe with the avengers, and you’re here to say goodbye. you’ve been pretty quiet while peter gives you as many details as he’s allowed to. it’s always an honor when the team invites him on. he gets so stoked about it. you’re happy he’s happy and gets to pursue his passion, but you’ve noticed a pattern.

every time peter leaves the country with earth’s mightiest heroes, he comes back in worse condition than the last. it seems like they protect everyone except peter. he’s oblivious to the fact that the end result is always his suffering. he’s just glad to be there. really, he gets nothing in return except scars that never heal, not even a permanent spot on the team.

so, you’re not thrilled he agreed to go.

“plus, i get to miss two weeks of school.” peter beams, getting onto his knees to zip the suitcase. “feels like a vacation almost.” “you like school, though,” you remind him. you’re sat at the edge of his bed while you watch, rather than help. he hops up again with a shrug. “i like vacations more.” “it’s not a vacation,” you mutter to yourself, then speak up.

“how are you gonna catch up? that’s a lot of missing assignments.” with that same innocent smile, peter walks over to you. he grabs both your hands and laces your fingers together. “i’m a fast learner. besides, ned said he’d help me.” you sigh, looking down at the floor so you don’t have to look at peter. “or, you could. make it into a little study date when i get back,” he suggests while playing with your fingers.

“i don’t even want you to go,” you finally admit and meet his sparkling eyes. nothing could ever dull them. “why not? you’re gonna miss me?” peter teases, pressing a couple of kisses to your palm. “you don’t have to. i’m pretty sure france has wifi.” he wiggles his eyebrows. “oui oui, mademoiselle, eh?” despite yourself, you giggle at his french accent and tug on his hands. he sits down next to you with a chuckle.

“nat has been giving me lessons,” peter explains, you quirking an eyebrow. “she speaks french?” “she speaks a lot of languages, actually. she’s so cool.” peter scoots closer to you and sets his hands on your waist, his voice dropping. “you’d love her.” your face twists up in confusion at the idea.

you don’t have anything against the avengers, obviously. they’re good people. you’re just not the biggest fan of them at the moment, considering the circumstances they’ve put peter under.

“peter, i don’t want you to go,” you repeat more seriously than before. your teeth sink into your lower lip. “and, it’s not because i’ll miss you.” “none taken,” peter jokes, implying there should’ve been a no offense. he then realizes how distressed you look, so he cuts it out. “sorry, sorry. i’m done now. how come?”

you take his hand again and hold it tight. “what if you get hurt?” you ask in the nicest way possible, out of care. “i don’t wanna see you hurting, pete. this mission sounds really... dangerous.” he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, his grin faltering a bit. “it is, but i’m ready for it. i’ll be fine.”

you’re not convinced yet. that line he likes to overuse isn’t enough to do the trick.

his eyes searching for yours, peter brushes a piece of your hair back. “have a little faith in me, babe.” “no, i... i do. i have the most faith in you, peter.” you find yourself frowning as he twirls your locks around his finger. “that’s not the problem.” peter’s voice becomes a whisper. “what is it, then? talk to me.”

you do the opposite because you’re afraid you’ll upset him further, which is the last thing he needs right now. your silence prompts peter to fill it. “would it make you feel better if i say mr. stark is keeping an eye on me?” he’s smiling sheepishly, you scoffing. “oh, like he kept an eye on you in amsterdam?”

the only eye related activity that happened there was peter almost losing one of his. he’d come back with an eyepatch and couldn’t see out of it for over a month. to this day, there’s still a bit of blood in it when you look close enough.

“i already told you, that was my fault,” peter grumbles, turning so he faces forward. “i didn’t listen to him-“ “who gives a shit? he’s the one who put you in that situation!” you blurt out. you’ve been way too patient this whole time, and now you’re reaching your breaking point. “you say that like i didn’t wanna be there.” peter clenches his jaw, still mostly calm.

“either way, mr. stark,” you mock what peter always calls him, “was supposed to keep you safe, and he didn’t. i’m scared it’s gonna happen again.” letting out a noise close to a growl, peter stands up from the bed. “you’re not listening to me, y/n. everything was fine. i just-“ you’re not in the mood to hear him make excuses, so you interrupt.

“do you know any other sixteen year olds who fight literal terrorists on their free time?” you rhetorically ask and get to your own feet. peter tries to walk away from you, only you follow him. “you’re a kid, peter, in case you forgot.” he spins around to give you a nasty look. “do you know any other sixteen year olds who stick to fucking walls?”

your heart starts to race from his sudden outburst. he’s scary when he’s mad, and he almost never gets mad at you. all you can do is blink dumbly. “didn’t think so,” peter spits. “this is what i’m supposed to do, help people. is that so wrong?” his breathing becomes ragged as his anger grows.

“what about you? are you helping yourself?” you speak softly, expecting an answer this time. “you’re not my fucking therapist, y/n,” he deflects the question. “i am your girlfriend, though. i care about you so much, you know that.” eyebrows furrowed in concern, you reach out for peter. he takes a step back. it doesn’t take long for tears to cloud your vision.

“i was excited to share this with you, and i thought you’d be happy for me.” peter balls his hands into fists at his sides. his voice stays low. “instead, you made it all about yourself. you can never let me enjoy team stuff.” you’re speechless, peter nodding as he lets his words sit. “thanks for the support.”

“you’re an asshole,” you laugh out bitterly and wipe under your eyes.

he didn’t mean to make you cry. he was so caught up in himself, he didn’t realize you were.

peter’s whole demeanor changes. “y/n, baby...” he attempts to put a hand on your cheek, but you hit it away. “get off of me. what did i just say?” you sniffle, your tone harsh in contrast. “you’re an asshole, peter.” he changes his mind about feeling bad. you’ve berated him way more than he did you, anyway.

“you should go. i have to be up early,” peter decides, even though he’d said you could stay the night. whatever, you don’t want to anymore. “fine,” you agree shortly. “i’m leaving.” he stands there while you collect your things, shoving them into your bag. you’re going slow enough so he has a chance to stop you. he doesn’t.

you pass by him on your way to his door, sucking in a breath. here’s your official goodbye. “see you later, peter. don’t die.” “mhm, i won’t,” he replies, his tongue poking at his cheek. with one more shared look between you two, you make your grand exit, no doubt informing may of her nephew’s behavior before you’re gone.

peter immediately regrets the way he talked to you, and that you’re leaving things like this. you were only trying to protect him. you’ll never be able to save the city like he does, so this is how you do it. he truly is an asshole for not seeing that.

frustration consuming him, peter kicks over his fully stuffed suitcase, its contents spilling out. he grits his teeth.

“fan-fucking-tastic.”

you don’t talk to peter the whole two weeks he’s gone except for some are you alive and yes texts. he’d called you quite a few times, and was sent to voicemail for all of them. he gave you the benefit of the doubt because of timezones.

it was actually because you declined, which peter knew deep down was the real reason.

he’s coming home from his mission today. you’re not sure when or if he plans on dropping by. you’re not sure you’d like him to, either. you don’t really get a choice in the end.

there’s a series of knocks at your window, at some ungodly time in the night. you’re all too familiar with this routine. it’s peter.

you slip out from under your covers, a scowl already painting your face as you go to the window. surely enough, peter is perched in front of it, clad in red and black. the suit must be new because you’ve never seen it. you push up the window and step aside so he can get through.

“thanks,” peter mumbles, climbing into your room less gracefully than usual. he’s sort of wobbly when he lands. “yeah,” you dully acknowledge. “how was france?” “uh, good. you know, lots of cheese and all that.” his voice is muffled from his mask, since he hasn’t taken it off yet. that’s odd. “i was talking about the mission, but cool,” you almost laugh back.

“the mission was... fine,” peter clarifies and scratches the back of his neck. he never describes something as simply being ‘fine.’ when the boy talks, he lectures. you’re starting to get worried. “that’s good. at least you didn’t die, right?” you say to lighten the mood. peter awkwardly chuckles. “haha, yeah. thank god for that.”

you hum and walk over to sit on your bed, peter staying where he is. “what time did you get back?” you wonder, a completely harmless question. “um, this morning,” he says in response, raising your suspicions. “why’re you still in the suit, then?” you squint at him. “i like it, by the way.” “thanks, y/n/n. i, uh,” peter trails off, no good explanations coming to mind.

you’re quickly developing a hunch for what what down. you wordlessly get up again, meeting peter by your window. he’s nervous to see what happens next. peter’s shoulders slump when your fingers land on his mask. you carefully lift it, revealing his face to you. his banged up, bloody face.

“surprise.” peter musters up a grin, you tossing the mask at his chest. you’re beyond angry now. it’s not at him, athough it is at his injuries. “please don’t be mad,” he nearly begs, you shaking your head. you go to leave your room for some space. peter’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. “i should’ve listened to you, okay? i’m sorry,” he genuinely apologizes.

you still don’t say anything while you look over his beaten body. there’s a gash with stitches in it on his chin, a deep slice across the bridge of his nose, cuts littering his cheeks. he’s even got a busted lip for good measure. this might be the worst condition he’s let you see him in.

“you were right, y/n. i think... i think i’m gonna sit the next one out. it’s too much for me, clearly,” peter continues, fingers sliding down to lock with yours. “you should say you told me so.” “how... how did this happen?” you manage to get out instead. “the bad guy fought me,” he says with the hint of a smirk. “i won, though.”

it’s a relief that he’s handling this so well, even earning a laugh from you. that puts you more at ease.

“this is probably a dumb question, but are you okay?” you brush your thumb over peter’s cheekbone gently, avoiding his scratches. “not really. my face hurts a lot, and flash is gonna tease the hell out of me on monday.” his lips form a line, arms looping around your waist. it’s very much welcomed by you.

“you just spent two weeks trying not to die, and you’re worried about flash?” you snicker and draw a heart on his skin. peter shrugs a shoulder. “he’s so mean to me.” he brings you in closer to him. “besides, this is the normal kid stuff i should be focusing on.” you’re glad he finally came to terms with that. you’ve been saying it for the longest time.

you smile wickedly at him. “exactly. so is all that homework you have to make up.” peter lets out a breathy laugh, you laying your head on his chest. “i missed you,” he tells you quietly. “really wish i could kiss you right now.” “i missed you too, pete. so much,” you murmur into him. your hands settle on his biceps. “and, i forgive you.” “thanks, baby,” peter exhales.

“of course. once your lips are healed,” you pull back from his chest, making a kissing noise. “pucker up, lover- oh my god.” you’re looking up at him with wild eyes. peter gets reasonably startled from it. “what? what’s wrong?” “you... you’re bleeding!” you point at his stitches. he winces, touching the spot. there’s blood, alright.

“crap. do you have a bandaid or something?” peter gives you an apologetic smile. “mr. stark said i should cover them when this happens.” maybe, tony isn’t so bad after all. you nod and take him by his hand. “yeah, in the bathroom. come with me.”

peter sits on the edge of your bathtub while you patch up his chin. he tells you more about the fun parts of his mission, you placing the cinderella bandaid over his gash. you have those from a while ago and also regular ones. however, he preferred the princess design.

“you saw the real mona lisa? like, in person? that’s insane.” you grin, smoothing down peter’s bandaid one last time. “yeah, she’s even prettier up close.” peter returns the smile. “thanks for taking care of me, y/n. i swear i don’t deserve you sometimes.” now pouting at him, you crouch down so you’re at his level. “it’s the other way around, peter.”

“let’s just agree to disagree,” he concludes and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “i love you, okay?” “i love you, too.” you press a light kiss to his bandaid, getting a giggle from peter.

yeah, it’s going to be hell finding replacements for his lips.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut

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hes-writer · 3 years

Text

Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now, suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #Harry styles fan fic #Harry styles fanfiction

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torilovestowrite · 3 years

Text

title: romance in struggle

pair: zeke yeager x reader

words: 3k+

content warning: n/sfw themes, ROYAL AU, ZEKE IS A KING HERE Y’ALL, READER IS A MARLEYAN PRINCESS, female-bodied reader/afab! reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, mentions of pregnancy, angst, mentions of blood, age difference (reader is 18 while zeke is 24) conservative mindset, mentions of blood, FORBIDDEN LOVE TROUPE, S/MUT, BREEDING KINK, CREAMPIE

synopsis: in which y/n l/n, a princess of the marleyan kingdom, ends up having an affair with zeke yeager— the kingdom’s traitor who caused a huge terror for nobles in marley.

“my little ymir, don’t you think it’s a lovely day today?” y/n rubbed blonde child’s back as both of them watched the sunrise under a huge oak tree after hanging some laundry in their backyard. “look how fresh the air is.”

“yes! but you know what’s prettier, mama?” ymir responded happily as she held her mother’s hand, placing a small yellow daffodil on her ear, almost like an accessory. “of course, it’s you!”

y/n looked sadly at her daughter— her eyes glimmered in the midst of the dawn; staring at her mother who had a brooding look in her eyes. all the young girl wants is to make her mother smile. even though she would let out soft giggles from her lips and smile few times ever since she was born, ymir could still see a glint of loneliness in her eyes.

“you have the prettiest eyes, ymir.” y/n kissed her forehead as she continued to mutter under her breath, “it’s just like his eyes.”

her daughter’s eyes beamed as she asked, “like father?”

y/n smiled at her young child. yes, she is only five— but she’s perceptive as ever. unlike other children, ymir was sensitive towards how others are feeling around her. seems that she got her mama’s personality, huh? but there are no doubts— that ymir, her daughter, is his’; for her long blonde hair and her deep grey eyes could speak in behalf of her.

“yes,” y/n almost cried before she could even mention him. just the sound of his name makes her guts feel uneasy. “just like your father.”

her eyes looked upon the sky as she recalled her memories— a bittersweet tragedy that took place five years ago; right before her little ymir was born.

“are you really going?” y/n asked the blond man as she held his wrist back in an attempt to stop him from leaving. her eyes gaze upon him— yearning for his affection; for his love— to make him admit that he would come back sooner.

zeke yeager— an untouchable man who’s willing to use all the means in order to achieve his goals. It’s almost like the eldian man— whose kingdom has been enslaved by the marleyans for almost 20 years; has no heart.

y/n l/n— the princess of the marleyan empire, has fallen in love with zeke yeager. she once met him while she ran away from the palace, getting lost in the middle of a dark prairie. being 18 during those days, the younger woman could still remember the cold stare that he held as she was crying in front of the lake after hearing her father’s decision. her clan wanted to marry her off to a man named willy tybur; another royalty— and to become one of his concubines in order to combine the powers of their clans— to sustain a supreme empire.

as she was having her laments, zeke caught y/n and spoke to her; and she found a friend in him with his words filled with sarcastic jokes— yet unbelievable truths. during her free time, she would come visit the forestries in order to share her feelings, laments... and he would entertain it. slowly, y/n began having feelings for the man, craving more than of his attention— but also, his affection; his kisses and hugs.

gladly, zeke felt the same. the two became a couple and secretly met during the night inside his tiny cabin filled with secrets. y/n could still recall the first time they kissed. it was her first, and she was glad that it was her first love for his lips felt warm on her. it was everything to a maiden like her— oh, how she wishes they could stay that way for the rest of her life! y/n loved the older male more than anything. she loved with a love that is stronger than love itself.

Little did she know, zeke spelled danger for the marleyans, as he was one of the last yeagers— the royal clan of eldia— who were killed and burned by her own clan. aside from that, the 24-year old man was deemed as a ruthless man for robbing from the marleyan nobles and even to the point of burning their lands, just like how they have dealt with eldia two decades ago.

but the young lady knows him well— zeke explained that he wouldn’t do those incidents simply for himself; but rather, he did it for his own people. the stolen goods that he was able to obtain were distributed among the poor eldians who were enslaved, starved, and abused by their marleyan lords who were only concerned with their own wealth and earthly riches. their desire for power made zeke disgusted. as a royalty who is in line to inherit the crown— if the marleyans did not kill his own family and abducted his brother, eren; he knows that power is needed to preserve sovereignty in a nation. but unlike them, zeke knows how to gain the respect of the people— and that is through giving back the services that they deserve.

“i need to leave. you know how the circumstances are for me right now, y/n.” zeke sighed as he kissed the young lady’s forehead— pulling her closer and kissing her tears away.

apparently, the romantic nights have ended for the couple— slapping them both of the harsh reality; that their clans are born to become enemies. and that they were born to be star-crossed lovers— only meant to meet; but not to end up together no matter how strong their feelings are.

“d-don’t do this to me, zeke. please. don’t leave me just like this.” y/n sobbed as she kneeled in front of zeke— begging him not to leave; gripping his hand tightly. her hands were shaking and her cries were getting louder. the older male did not want to see his little doll depressed over this. he helped her stand from the wooden floor of his cabin; giving her a kiss on the lips.

y/n felt like melting under his touch— his calloused hands which were much bigger than hers’ were warm; his lips and the way their tongue danced together felt warm too. the younger lady could feel his touch all over her body; as if the burning passion around their souls were bringing them together.

zeke lifted her from the ground, holding and carrying her towards the bed that was inside his room. the blond male wanted to leave a mark before he goes to an important mission— to find his brother, eren, and to start a war against the marleyans in order to free the eldian empire and to bring back the supremacy of the yeager clan.

he started slowly undressing y/n— their hands intertwined together as he bruised her body with his mouth; from her neck down to her belly. zeke was about to go feral at the sight of the young princess being completely submissive and compliant under his touch— it was a different kind of power to him; almost like an achievement.

“do you want me, y/n?” he asked as y/n helped in stripping him off his fabric— unbuttoning his polo and letting the clothing fall down from his torso. he placed his hands on her now naked thighs, positioning himself in the middle of her legs as he rubbed his erected member on her glistening bud. “do you want me to deflower you, my pretty lady?”

y/n pulled him closer, placing her hands on his back and feeling his touch as she responded, “yes, i would like to feel closer to you, zeke.”

and he sheathed his enraged member inside her moist insides— her walls tightly clenching around his member— causing her to claw on his back as she began to adjust according to his size. zeke could see a small trickle of blood coming out from her whole where his long rod of warmth rested. to make her more comfortable, he rubbed her tiny clit with his thumb, trying to soothe the pain that she was feeling.

as he started to do this, y/n felt herself get excited; her nipples began to stand erect— and as soon as zeke saw this, he didn’t miss the chance to put her right breast in his mouth— sucking her chest like a newborn infant.

“y-you can move now.” y/n gave him a peck on the lips as he started to move— causing the young woman to moan because of the friction between their bodies. they were sweating everywhere— but both of them care less; they wanted to be closer together— to live in the moment; fucking as if it’s their last time. i mean, who knows? knowing what could happen the next day, what if he actually disappears from her life forever?

his pacing began to become faster and his acts became even more merciless. his huge hands were gripping her jaw tightly as his thrusts were harsh— as if her insides were bruising. but the pain it gave her did not surpass the pleasure that she was feeling. his hands travelled down to her hips as he whispered to her ears as his breathing became erratic. “d-do you want me to breed you, my pretty woman? y-you want my seed, huh?”

y/n frantically nodded as he gripped her hips tightly, groaning loudly while he came inside her— totally filling her insides. as he was riding his orgasm, she began to call his name loudly, letting out her juices while clenching both of her fists on the bed sheet.

shortly after, y/n fell asleep beside him— and zeke had no choice but to look at her dearly. in his eyes, the young princess was the most beautiful woman. the blond man wished that one day, if he would be given the chance to meet her again, freedom would be granted upon them— the freedom to love and to choose the person you desire. yet he has no choice but to lament for there were shackles separating their beings no matter how much their hearts yearn from one another.

“i’m sorry, y/n.” zeke did not realize how a tear fell from his eye. “i’m sorry that this had to happen.”

y/n felt a strong slap on her cheek as her own father, the king of marleyans, stared at her in disgust. her mother was sobbing uncontrollably as she watched his daughter being tormented and judged by her own husband. the younger female just touched her cheek as a response to his anger.

“you ungrateful imbecile! i didn’t know you were whoring around while—“ the king held the temples of his head in frustration, feeling a strong pain as he scolded his daughter. “what have you done, y/n?! you have brought nothing but shame to the family!”

it’s been a month since the last time she saw zeke. after they spent the night together, y/n was left with a saddening letter— a letter of goodbye coming from the only man she loved. and she felt nothing— but only devastation for it was written:

dear my pretty y/n,

i just want you to know that i dearly love you and i treasure you so much. i believe that amongst all the women who have tried to reach out to me, you are the most memorable— for i have loved you greatly. i love you so much. but i’m afraid that i’ll have to drift apart from you because of our huge differences.

you are a marleyan while i’m an eldian. the grudge that our ancestors have casted upon each other is what separated us. but in my heart, you are always there.

i wish we weren’t suffering like this— that we were free enough to express our love.

your beloved,

zeke yeager

after that night, y/n faced the consequences of being attached to him— while alone, she cried intensely during the nights; yearning for her dear lover’s presence— to see him; to feel his touch, and to speak with him again.

a month later, there were changes in y/n’s body. she always felt sick and even gained a bit of weight even when trying to eat less. her father, the king, decided to let the palace doctors examine her body— only to find out that she was carrying a child. the news made her father furious— throwing expensive ornaments around the palace while shouting as his wife could do nothing but to weep and to calm him down.

y/n wasn’t even speaking. she just stood there— weeping; it’s not because of the pain of being slapped; but the pain of disappointing your parents hits different to her— because she was known as a goody-two-shoes; as someone who have always obeyed them. and it’s her first time letting them down.

“who is the father of that filthy child?!” her father asked while still blazing in anger. y/n touched her belly as she began to swallow before speaking nervously. her response earned her another slap from her father— but this time, it was stronger than the first one— obviously filled with an intense rage.

“the father of my child... is an eldian.”

that was the queue for her to leave the palace. after that night, y/n l/n’s name was erased from the list of the royal family members. her furious father wanted to kill her— but her dear mother begged for her life. as a result, she was exiled to a far away country where she lived alone and gave birth to her daughter, ymir. she was named ymir because zeke has always expressed his admiration towards his ancestor— an iconic woman for eldians; for she helped so much in developing and enhancing their empire.

ymir was a loud child who always cried loudly for her needs— but y/n still loved her dearly despite all the hardships and all the judgements she received for being an unmarried mother. with her daughter being born, y/n began to protect both of themselves from the society— avoiding any news about the eldia and marleyan war— which broke out few months after ymir was born. when y/n heard of this, a spark of hope came across her body— what if zeke came out alive? what if he managed to seize his land back and is still alive?

yet among all these years, there were nothing. nothing tried to reach out towards them— it has been always her and ymir; just the two of them. and so, the young woman, now at the age of 23, considered him dead. if he was alive, he would have been probably 29 by now— and if he managed to claim eldia once again, he would have been the king, right? then if that’s the case, he could have made an effort to find them. but nothing came up all these years. therefore, y/n concluded that zeke died during his mission at some point.

until she heard that name again. after hanging their laundry, y/n and ymir would go to the supermarket, buying all their food and essentials. the young mother heard of his name— zeke yeager; the older women were talking about him— the king who managed to retrieve the eldian empire and took over the whole country after claiming freedom from the marleyans. apparently, the economy of marley failed after that war; as they were isolated from creating trades outside of the country as a sanction for enslaving over millions of people. the sympathy fell upon the eldian race— a now free country loved by the people around the world; and the yeager clan was known as a marvelous family for protecting and freeing their own people.

“the king of eldia? zeke yeager? visiting a small country like ours? oh, how flattering!” the older woman chattered as she giggled at her friend while selling some freshly-ripe fruits in their stall. “i heard that he’s in search for a wife, right? my, my... only if i was a little younger!”

at first, y/n took the news lightly. it could be a hoax, right? also, despite this country being small, there’s a very small probability of them crossing paths. zeke won’t be able to find them, she thought— until she saw a huge carriage outside of their tiny home in the middle of grasslands. y/n peeked from their house’s small window to see a tall blonde man coming out of the huge vehicle. his shoulders were broad and he has a bit of facial hair. the young lady’s eyes widened as she saw who followed. he looked healthy compared to the last time they saw each other.

“z-zeke...” y/n cried as she looked at her 5-year-old child playing with her tiny dolls in the living room while sitting on top of the floor.

y/n’s cries became louder as the blond man knocked on the door— waited for their response; in which ymir opened the door. zeke’s eyes widened as he gazed upon ymir. the moment his eyes landed on the young girl, he knew— he knew that the 5-year-old girl was his daughter— a piece of his and y/n’s flesh and blood. zeke hugged the young child as he cried, “i-i finally found you...” ymir, the 5-year-old girl, was left confused and speechless— but the moment she saw her mother’s face, she realized who he was— zeke yeager, the last of the yeager clan— is her father.

few days after their small yet joyful reunification, y/n moved in along with zeke inside the eldian palace. as soon as the news spread like wildfire, the people were enraged that zeke have chosen a woman who was once a descendant of the enemy— but he loved her greatly. the whole five years that he has been fighting, y/n has left a whole in his heart— a huge hole that only her love and presence could heal. therefore, he couldn’t help himself but to find her no matter where it takes him— whether it takes him to the corners of this lonely and dangerous world or to the hands of the grim reaper.

think of it, romance and war struggles are both different— and when it is mixed, it could hurt people. but there’s nothing better than the feeling of having your loved ones by your side after years of battle scars, armed struggles, and bloodshed with enemies.

I ACTUALLY DID NOT PROOFREAD THE WHOLE STUFF AND I WAS KINDA SLEEPY WHILE WRITING IT OMSHSHSHS— anyway im having a zeke brainrot rn cuz why not.

also, maybe after this, i’ll make a reiner smau. what do u guys think ^___^

MASTERLIST 🖤

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paimon-rambles · 3 years

Note

Hi! I'd like to request Childe and his s/o getting into a fight/discussion because she is jealous of him and Lumine, it would be great if it ended with fluff 🥺 thank you!

Her

Characters; Childe

Summary- Childe promised to love you always, but sometime changed when Lumine step foot into Liyue

I'm not great at writing arguments so I hope this suffices^~^

Childe was a man of his word, every promise he made he sought to keep it. He never went back on promises or break them, always fulfilling each wish. You could see it whenever he talks about his family, he made numerous promises to his younger brother Teucer and he kept each one.

But Childe also made various promises to you. Vows of love that he will hold you dearly and shower you in affection. Promises to protect you from the Fatui and that no blade would meet your skin and much more. And he never broke any of them. He gives you kisses and cuddles with you regularly and no blade has ever pierced your skin.

Your relationship is built on trust and Childe never showed signs of that trust wavering, the only thing he 'hid' from you was anything regarding the infamous Fatui and their plans, but that was more to protect you than to leave you in the dark. Everything is perfect.

But it wasn't

Formerly you've noticed a shift in his behavior, his attention was prone to something else, and you were puzzled to know who. It didn't take long to find out what was occupying your boyfriend's attention. It was the outlander. The honorary Knight of Mondstadt who quelled Stormterror's attacks on the city. The girl who was in search of her kin. Lumine was it? Her name became quite prominent.

You started to notice how close Childe and Lumine have gotten in the past few days. He even gave her a nickname, well Childe gifted you many nicknames but it'd be a lie if you said you didn't feel the slightest envious of "ojou-chan". In honestly you did feel jealously towards Lumine but you knew she wasn't at fault, she wasn't purposely drawing Childe's attention.

You couldn't quite blame your boyfriend for paying attention towards Lumine either, she was a beauty. Her golden hair always bounced delicately against her shoulder with a step or how the breeze carried her twin tails. Her eyes were golden similar to her hair but carried a darker hue, there was always a glint in her eye as she looked around Liyue Harbor curious to comprehend the city. And the fact that he was an outlander, a traveler who roamed world to world only added to the intrigue.

You did grimace at the thought of your relationship crumbling as you love Childe with all your heart but you also wanted the ginger to be happy. If Lumine is that source of happiness you'll gladly step aside.

But you did not comment on this. After all your relationship is built around trust if Childe wasn't happy with the current predicament he would have voiced his concerns. So you're jealously was hidden within the cage of your emotions, slowly growing each day.

But then you snapped

It happened when Childe's kid brother Teucer made a surpise vist to Liyue. The rascal snuck his way onto a boat and voyayed off away from home. Thankfully he was able to find his way to his brother with the help of Lumine and Paimon. Everything was going fine but it seemed that Teucer had taken a liking towards the blonde enjoying the company of the "nice lady." You didn't mind this too much but what really made your heart shake was seeing the way Childe acted towards her. It left you with an uneasy feeling.

You tried to shake the feeling away and lock it up with the jealously that wishes to paint you green in envy. But each "ojou-chan" that ran off his tongue and each subtle flirt he made towards her only fed your emotions. All masked away behind a smile both fake and real.

" If I could join you on your travels I would, but with the Fatui..." Your heart shook as those words ringed off Childe's tongue. Each word brought a sharp ache to your heart. If his vision would truly make him happy- to travel the world away from the Fatui- what is your place in that dream? Were you still lovers? Or friends.

You kept yourself composed in the situation keeping an eye on Teucer while your lover spoke of his desires to travel the world with Lumine. And you kept quiet. At some point, you both said your goodbyes to Teucer and Lumine.

" Do you...like Lumine?" You mumbled to him, your fingers dancing against the fabrics of your shirt anxiously. You glanced away from the pair of surprised pupils that burned into your features. The blue orbs that you love so much staring into your skull, but a slight playful grin toyed on his lips.

" What are you talking about y/n?" He asked teasingly. But you did not heed to his teasing or playful demeanor. " I mean you the way you act around her. You act like you like her- always hanging around her like a lost puppy- Do you like her!?" You shouted the last question out, and it was finally cleared to Childe that you weren't joking or playing around.

The ginger brows furrowed in surprise, his blue ocean-like eyes burned into you as if you had just insulted him. His lips parted to speak, " y/n, did you get that from?" He asked, his voice was still calm but held heavy restraint to it. His calming tone of voice made you ashamed for snapping at him so harshly but you pushed that thought away. " Then why do you always seem happy when your with her? More than me! Why do you tease her the way you tease me? Why Childe? WHY!?"

You could already see his body tremble with anger as he processed each word that left your sharp mouth. In the corner of your eye, you saw a mere glimpse of his palms turning to those like snow, white, and clumped together tightly. " Lumine is nothing but a friend- I'm only nice to her because of what friends do. Being kind to each other. And I only tease her because it's part of my nature. Y/n you know me, why would I leave you?" Childe responded, highlighting each word and the adding of emphasis made you shiver. The way his teeth slightly gritted together as the ginger grew more peeved at the situation he was posed in.

" BECAUSE YOU SAID IT YOURSELF!" You cried out, your vision was obscured as crystal like bodies of water dripped down against your cheek. You felt a hitch in your throat as it grew harder to breathe and with each second that passed more tears descended from your e/c glossy eyes.

Childe's face morphed into regret as he watched his lover, his best friend, the light to his darkness sob uncontrollably, defenseless and vulnerable. His lips parted to speak but his partner beat him to it.

" w-why did you tell her that you want to travel the world with her?" You finished, the event replayed in your racing mind as you waited for the ginger's answer fearing the worst.

Instead, however, you felt something collide with your body and when your brain finally registered what the source was you couldn't help but sob more as your boyfriend embraced you tightly. His hand, now free from the walls of his fabric gloves gently combs through your hair. " Please don't cry y/n- please let me explain." He whispered, guiding you to the couch to sit down.

You both sat on the couch, you rested your head against his chest each beat of his heart slowly calming your nerves but not enough. You were confused but relieved. " W-what do you mean" you sniffle sheepishly.

" Y/n... I can't talk about the Fatui in fear it'll get you hurt but me being friendly towards Lumine was just part of my work. She has some information that the Fatui labels valuable and since I'm here in Liyue they tasked me to keep an eye on her." He explained, his hands continuing to run through your hair. You processed this information as more questions were raised in your head. " W-what info?"

Childe bit his cheek in thought trying to collect what to say, " Y/n I hate keeping you in the dark but for your safety, I can't discuss that. But I want to assure you that when I said I would travel the world with her was merely a lie, just to gain some trust. But I much rather trade anything if it meant being here with you instead." You thawed in his arms as your tears came to a stop. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, gentle yet filled with passion, before resting his head against yours. The moment lasted like this until both of you were lulled into a deep slumber.

A simple misunderstanding was the cause of this all. Everything was perfect. Childe was sure to keep all his promises. His promises of keeping you safe and feel loved. And Childe has never broken one.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin childe x reader #childe x reader #genshin childe #genshin impact drabble

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