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leslie057 · 1 month

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17a and 3b?

hii, thank you for the prompt!

prompt game posted here

17a + 3b = the semantics are totally outdated + but they can’t talk

word count: 3.4k | pairing: jonathan x nancy

but i can't live by those stakes, the semantics are totally outdated -sam fender, last to make it home

Her summer, china shop. Lowe and Holloway…two biggest, most aggressive bulls a matador could wish for.

And even that is such an undeserved accreditation, that semblance of animal majesty and dominance and punch, since her china’s literally in mint condition. She’s doing just fine, the guys don’t scare her. They’re not capable.

Her issue isn’t fear, it’s rage. More rage than Jonathan knows what to do with at times. The flush of red on her face, the urge to choke in her hands, the hair-pulling (his hair, not hers) and the pacing, all too wayward in his pen, burning up each of the four corners at once. Not that he’s much of a firefighter—pretty clear that he likes for a girl to take everything out on him, as long as her methods are nonverbal. He’s not gonna smother a flame when he could just let the flame smother him. He loves a good path of least resistance.

Things are different between them, inside the Hawkins Post. She can see him struggling with that, with meanings lost and rules rewritten, her amendments unfairly implicit as she switches up on him, forcing her sweet mariner into the Atlantic with his map of the Pacific. No, his map of the Wabash River. She doesn’t mean to respond differently to him, it’s just that she has to be careful with the way she carries herself here because no one wants to take her seriously. There aren’t many wins to be had by a teenage girl in this building, and there really aren’t many wins to be had by a teenage girl who lets her boyfriend dote on her in this building. The pep talk thing, the passive pity, the hey come here you’re okay after any negative reaction she has…he’s making it worse without realizing.

She’s making it worse, too, though. In her own way.

Keeps getting them in trouble, for example.

Today they're in trouble because of what she convinced him to do yesterday. Apparently, leaving work ten minutes early is really a no-no. Her bad. (She needed out, Lover’s Lake was calling to her. They don’t go much, but when it’s raining? When it’s raining that lake belongs to them. No other couple in town is weird enough to go in thunder and lightning, it is their thing, they own it. Privacy is a guarantee. Never mind that inducing the feeling of drowning has been a secret placation of her survivor's guilt lately, a quiet way to exhaust herself and surrender to nature's embrace for a while, to let it take her over, knocking her down a peg as it comes down in heavy sheets. It should have been her on that diving board two years ago, it really should have.) She never said their date habits were healthy. Oh, except the splashing, the splishing. That’s a normal couple thing. Very healthy.

They’ve been given different punishments for slipping out; he’s meant to be folding all the newspapers, she’s supposed to be stapling reports. It’s 4:45, and they just started. They usually use this time to clean up, but whatever doesn’t get done before five is unpaid work.

So that’s fun.

In the main room they serve their silent sentence, each stationed at opposite ends, less than consumed by their tasks. There’s an early golden hour effect outside; she can tell with the warm glow that’s seeping in between the window blinds, teasing her, testing her, tempting her to just walk out again. Despite her best efforts to focus on work and keep her distance from Jonathan, she does think about him a lot under this roof. And other roofs. And every roof. Like now, she’s thinking about how he’s staring at her and how strange it is that she knows he’s staring at her even with her eyes cast down.

I can feel that.

She combats the softness of the sentiment with a hard press on the stapler. Loud click is overly loud. Obnoxious. Swiping the heavy thing across the desk, she lets it clunk against the lamp’s square base. If he wants to daydream about her, he’ll have to romanticize her inclination towards inanimate object abuse. (Imagine the emotional release in banging that ashtray on this typewriter. Personally, she’s imagining it.)

She tips her head up to check on him. Okay, he is romanticizing how pissed off she is. Blinks at her like she’s some unusual celestial something at the end of a telescope, pretty and rare. He brightens up over there as he realizes that he got her attention, making a small posture adjustment, leaning her way. Still slouchy, of course. She wants to glare, she does, but the edges of her gaze are being anonymously softened and all that’s left behind is a tender, conflicted expression. What do you want from me, it says. This is intern detention after all. Not social hour.

With a gentle glance he offers her some support, devoid of any pressure or demands. Nothing, Nancy.

She ducks her head and goes back to her report stack. But as quickly as she dives back into the task, she comes out again. He has something to tell her—she can feel it. When she looks up, he's tapping his thumb at the base of his throat, which is kind of weird even for him. His hand hovers near his collar before he motions to her, a silent prompt. She takes the signal and touches the same spot on her neck, brows knit together. Your necklace, he’s trying to say, miming the action of spinning it around, repositioning the clasp and extender so that they’re at the back and hidden away. Your necklace is backwards. She fixes it accordingly, embarrassed by nothing in particular it’s just…yeah, Bruce Lowe definitely doesn’t need to be provided with any joke bait below her neckline.

Bonus points for the ever attentive boyfriend. Just this once, his tendency to space out and stare at her has gotten them somewhere. Good boy.

She busies herself with the stapler, determined to get them out of this place sooner rather than later. Count, separate, slide, straighten. Staple, stack, repeat. Repeat repeat repeat. She wishes she had someone to compete with, to race against. Her brother, maybe, because Jonathan isn’t competitive. Then this would go faster. In the warm office, heat sprawls on top of her, slowing her movements. Sweat has already pooled at the small of her back, gathered behind her ears, formed a light sheen along her jaw. So much for box fans.

Her mind strays away from the chatter around her, a few abrupt fantasies now steering her thoughts. Hormonal thoughts. She’d ignore the love rush if she could, but it’s on her, on her like a sticky lotion in June weather, soaking slowly into her skin. Being seventeen is—yeah. Difficult.

Crazy difficult, once you factor in the need to be a professional mini-adult and not associate with the person you take to bed.

There’s just…it’s her, and Jonathan, and the necklace, and she’s taken off the necklace, held it taut against his neck, not choking him per se, no, but softly sawing at him with the chain until there are faint red lines impressed in sensitive flesh. Who knows where this came from; she’s never done anything like it. Doesn’t typically play so rough with him that there’s physical evidence more severe than your average hickeys or scratch marks. This job is turning her into a hazard.

She indulges for a couple seconds longer in the dumb image that had momentarily eclipsed her reality. He’s not looking at her when she looks up at him, but somehow it feels like their telepathic dialogue is still going, born from shared frustrations.

I want to be done here.

I know, we’ll be done soon. We’re fine, keep stapling.

And maybe she wouldn’t have to take off the necklace. Because he has his tie, his not-so-nice tie. Okay, without sugarcoating, it’s ugly. The one that’s currently loose, gray with diagonal brown stripes, pencil-thin stripes; it would be way more fun to pull across his throat compared to her necklace. Of course, she wouldn’t lead with that, she’d be counteracting with the super soft services of a needy mouth, settling on the kindest way to release her anger and affection in one fell swoop. (Why is it that the uglier the tie design, the bigger her heart? She’s wanting him bad this afternoon.)

In a moment of distracted clumsiness, she knocks over her box of staples, several of the refill strips breaking apart on the ground, their clatter piercing through whatever awful discussion was being had by these overpaid husbands and fathers.

“Wuh-oh,” Bruce interjects before carrying his conversation on. Not as big of a deal as when she fumbles a lunch order, but bad nonetheless; she’s on her knees in a dress, catching everyone’s double takes. A sideshow act to glance at intermittently between unrelated one-offs and cigarette drags.

Jonathan’s soon kneeling by her, ready to lend his assistance. Yeah, absolutely not.

The more he helps her, the more of a girl she is. Her eyes plead with him, begging him to remember that any perceived dependence on him will undermine the tiny shred of social authority she has here.

I love you, but get away from me.

Pouting, he backs off, an achy longing lingering between them. He chooses instead to go tend to the coffee grounds she’d yet to throw out.

Despite the distance enforced by circumstance, and her annoyance, she remains fixated on him, finding some solace in that mental landscape. When they leave this place within the hour, everything will go back to the way it was, and she can go back to speaking in a language they both understand.

She scoops up the staples and tidies the desk. Resumes her work without a second thought, waiting for the embarrassment to bleed out of her.

By five after five, they’ve almost finished up their punishment tasks. The office is more peaceful than before, hushed and dreamy, as their older colleagues file out, letting paper cups and gum wrappers fall into trash cans whose bags she and her boyfriend replaced an hour ago.

Tom switches off a couple lamps, touches his watch (with that bizarre air of supremacy and boredom). On his way out, he claps her chair on the back. “Keep up the good work,” he says. “No more sneaking out early.”

At least she’s getting credit for something. For leading the rebellion.

She watches Fallon, the receptionist, push in her desk chair and begin to pull at the hem of her skirt. As she passes by Jonathan, she carelessly drops a keyring into his lap, instructing him to lock up when they go. She also calls him Jordan. Not a thought in her head.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, “have a good night.”

They’re left all alone when the last footsteps fade away, and she shifts in her spinny chair. For possibly the first time today, she takes a deep breath in, a deep breath out. This is good. This is better.

It’s sort of warm and sweet and spongy—cakelike, she’d say—the growing sense of comfort she has in the privacy that’s been laid upon them. That, or she’s hungry. They should pick up a cupcake from the bakery downtown. Key lime, lemon, one of their seasonal flavors. No, wait, the bakery closed a few minutes ago. Not that they get much business anymore. (If they shut down and the mall ruins her and Jonathan’s cupcake sharing thing, she might choke someone. She might kill.)

Though her gaze is locked on him, he keeps his head slanted down, not acknowledging her or their privacy.

She taps the desk, slides her tongue behind her teeth, resentment creeping in amid neglect. This is the part where their tension falls away, right? The part where he apologizes for overdoing the boyfriend thing, and then gives her his undivided attention until one or two in the morning, thus overdoing the boyfriend thing, but in the right place at the right time. Trying to make up for the shittiness of their internship, trying to help her bubble wrap all the china in her china shop before morning comes around again.

He’s slumped down over there, sleeves cuffed, collar half-popped, movements slow as he calmly creases his final papers. The box fan’s soft currents delicately ruffle through his hair, and at first glance, he doesn’t have a care in the world. At second, though, he’s wearing a bit of a frown, moodily refusing to acknowledge anything but himself and his newspapers.

And yet. She can’t deny the magnetic pull drawing her that way. With a defiant flip of her hair, she sets out to close the big gap between them and put an end to the ridiculousness. They shouldn’t be ignoring each other upon being given total privacy, not even for a second. Reaching his space, she stops in front of his chair, leaning back on the edge of the desk. She’s the wall between him and his paper stack.

He sighs, eyes cast up to her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she parrots.

“You’re done?”

“Pretty much.”

“Me too.”

He’s still in that place of self-minimization, that corrective headspace following the staple incident. He’s stuck on being quiet and invisible and adult and the absolute opposite of lovey and dovey. It’s no longer necessary.

She fidgets with her ring blindly, an anticipatory energy working itself up inside her, right under her ribcage. He opens his mouth to speak. Closes it quickly. Guarded, he averts his gaze.

“You’re allowed to correct her, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Fallon. You don’t have to let your name be whatever she decides.”

The silence stretches between them, a tight wire, trembling faintly, a few touches away from snapping. She’s unsure if he’s playing a game here or if he simply doesn’t feel like talking. You never know with him (but she does).

“We’re allowed to talk now, you know,” she adds.

A beat.

“Your dress is messed up,” he says, to himself more than her.

“What?”

“The hooks on your dress. You accidentally skipped the first one.”

“I—” she starts. Her jaw hangs. Curious, she feels for the mismatched hook and eye clasps below the frilly collar of her dress, and she finds that the bottom one did get skipped over. This is what happens when you don’t get enough sleep, wake up late, and have to dress yourself in sixty seconds. She huffs. “Well come fix it?"

Because he has to want to. He likes this dress a lot, he’s never said anything, but he does. It’s white and yellow, not any yellow, but like a buttercup yellow, semi-sheer with an open ruffly collar and wide sleeves. He would want the excuse to touch it. He would want that sense of purpose, that delegation of mess-fixing. She’s so rarely a mess when there are no monsters to slaughter. He’s usually the one with the inside out shirt, the smudge of lipstick on his face. This is his one chance.

His bottom lip curls, and his shoulders shrug. “Thought you wanted to pretend like we don’t know each other.”

“Jonathan…please come fix it.”

She reaches out, and without a word he holds her hand, standing up. He bites down on his tongue, presses it against the side of his mouth, looking like he knows how cliché this is but is too sad to complain. He moves closer, his hands gentle as he begins unfastening those top four hooks so he can fasten that fifth one, the one she’d skipped before she also skipped breakfast. Her eyelids sink, wispy bangs brushing the tops of her eyes as the fan’s whisper of a breeze plays over her.

He’s still working with the clasps when her hands find his neck, tickling their way to the ends of his hair, curled by humidity.

To her surprise, he doesn’t flinch when she sneak attacks him, stealing a kiss off his mouth. Just makes a huffy sound afterward, all judgy eyes and short breaths and pinked skin. “Does that mean you like me again—”

She guides the slipping of their lips, a soft sensation of stickiness lingering in the inbetween. “Shut up,” she murmurs, “I never stopped.”

“Yes, you did.”

Plush lip tissue gives way between her careful teeth as she nibbles, trying to draw out a whimper or a groan or some other noise of desperate compliance. She thinks she hears an ow, and if she did, that’s good. His ow isn’t code for hey that hurts, his ow is like a regular boy’s don’t stop, I need more.

“I did not,” she argues.

“You did, you said so.”

“When?”

“With your face.”

She tightens her grip on the back of his collar and pulls. Seeking a diversion, she peppers his mouth, the tip of her tongue relaxed, impressively subtle. A muffled squeak leaves him as the collar tightens around his throat, and she lets go, releasing him. Maybe she does feel a little bad. “Don’t be so sensitive,” she says, but her words lack conviction, and her heart’s not in the dig. “I know I’ve been acting weird. It’s not about you.”

He rests his forehead on hers. “It’s only about them?”

“Duh, it’s about them.”

They put the conversation on hold among their shared prioritization of making this into more of a makeout than just a way to argue. Kissing mainly because it feels good to kiss, and bad to not. Their age demands this, pushes them. (They’ll grow out of the phase someday…she assumes. If she ever learns how to control herself. Perhaps.) She noses her way to his jaw while getting wrapped up in a hug, the gleam of sweat under her lips pleasantly salty. “So sweaty,” she teases (though she’s burning up, too). His breath hitches, and he doesn’t start the banter back up, doesn’t say what’s on his mind which is probably: I didn’t ask you to come over here and lick me like a cat.

Eventually they do separate a few inches, significantly more satisfied than before, significantly more pink in the face. Her head tips, and her tired eyes follow the path of daylight pouring in through the window, casting long shadows across the office floor as he distractedly massages her shoulder.

“Not that I’m complaining…” he begins, and her lashes flutter, her ears tune in, “but you are sending me mixed signals here.”

He’s right. Her professionalism has come at the price of his trust and certainty. She’s still adjusting to the job, getting used to the fact that she’s not particularly needed, wanted, or respected here. Jonathan doesn’t get it, and a Jordan wouldn’t get it, or a Josh, or anyone else who has never been on the receiving end of that coffee maker too tricky for you, sweetheart?

His concern is being obedient, being good, getting paid, keeping to himself, not making a fuss. It makes sense that he’d want to pep talk her out of her anguish, but it’s not healthy for her reputation. She thinks he owes it to her to roll with the punches for a little while.

“I know. I’m still figuring all this out. You’re gonna have to buckle up and settle in for now.”

“Do you think I could have a…handbook, or something?”

“A handbook?”

“I want the dos and don’ts. I want to know what you think makes you look bad and what doesn’t.”

She laughs softly. “That could be arranged. I’ve always wanted to write a book.”

After they’ve hesitantly split up and attended to closing tasks, she takes pride in the fact that they’ve only had to do twenty minutes of unpaid work this evening.

The remaining lights get switched off, and they gather their things, ambling to a door whose glass promises the return to a nicer world, a return to wide prospects—night drives and music, dinner and shared showers, lakeside commitments and homemade cupcakes.

“Hey,” she murmurs, hand curling around a few of his fingers, “just so you know, about that handbook: I haven’t forgotten about the darkroom.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, I just mean that I don’t think any of the rules would have to apply to the darkroom. It’s private, it’s safe, it’s…rule-free, isn’t it?”

“Umm…”

"You can pick up as many staples for me as you want in there."

creds to @musicalchaos07 for helping me come up with this idea, and creds to @wanderleave for picking his tie color for me

#*fic #jancy fic #stranger things #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #jonathan x nancy #prompt fill #*ask #fanfiction #st fanfic #lyrics #songs #they lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship #faithfulcat111

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shinidamachu · 11 months

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CHAPTER NINE: What do You Want to Watch?

SUMMARY: “and I’d choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” – Kiersten White. For each chapter, a prompt from the One Hundred Ways to Say I Love You list.

WORDS: 1526

GENRE: fluff

FANDOM: Inukag

FORMAT: multichapter

ALSO FOUND ON: AO3

Inuyasha was really trying to pump himself up. Perhaps way too hard. And the fact that he was failing miserably was driving him further up the wall.

He should be excited.

This Kikyo girl was fine. More than fine: she was perfect. Drop dead gorgeous, smart, sweet. They had been texting long enough for him to realize any guy would be lucky to have her. Which, as it turned out, wasn’t that long at all.

And yet, after she asked him out and he promptly accepted the invitation, Inuyasha wasn’t as thrilled as he knew he was supposed to be at the prospect.

He tried, in vain, to convince himself that there was a plausible explanation for his less than stellar reaction — Kikyo had just caught him off guard, that was all — and when it didn’t work, he blamed his lack of enthusiasm on the snobby restaurant she had chosen. The French name alone made him feel painfully inadequate.

But the fault, even if he refused to admit it, was the girl next door’s.

Kagome Higurashi.

His neighbor, best friend and unrequited love. Not that she had the faintest idea she was more than two out of those three things.

The situation was straight up maddening. One moment, Inuyasha thought himself above the whole falling in love thing and the next, he was head over heels for the absolute last person he had business catching feelings for. The absolute last person.

It kept him up at night, the recounting of footsteps, wondering if there was a particular corner he could have turned, a different direction he could have taken to prevent himself from loving Kagome as deeply and hopelessly as he did or if every chosen path led back to her regardless and he never even stood a chance.

Inuyasha wasn’t sure which option was worse.

There was one thing, though, that he was certain of: Kagome Higurashi wasn’t perfect by any means.

Sure, she was just as sweet as Kikyo seemed to be, if not more. Ironically, he was the only person to not be on the receiving end of such grace. It was funny, really. The woman was kind to the point of naivety, except, of course, when it came to him. Apparently, something about Inuyasha manages to push her buttons down like no other. It was a gift and a privilege, making her lose her cool. No one else has seen this side of her. This fierce, terrifying — and honestly sort of sexy — side.

Smart? Kagome was obnoxiously so, but it mattered little when so much intelligence was used for evil. And by evil he meant winning every fucking argument they’ve ever had. Whether she was telling him off or calling him out, Kagome was never afraid of putting him in his place with that sharp as knives tongue of hers. The fact that she could read him like one of the books he constantly found himself competing for her attention with was both comforting and unnerving and the only thing more frustrating than when she stubbornly got into her head that she was right about something was that more often than not she was.

And yes, Kagome was gorgeous, but not in the icy beauty way the media insisted guys were attracted to, although she had a rather annoying share of guys sniffing after her. No, she was gorgeous the way a drive home during the sunset was gorgeous. Real and warm. Familiar yet never the same, each dusk always beautiful in a new, different way. You watch it a thousand times, you unconsciously know it’s there today and it’s gonna be there tomorrow, then you take it for granted until you’re casually hit on the most mundane of occasions with just how dazzling it is. Suddenly it’s all you can see.

Inuyasha was aware those weren’t thoughts he was supposed to have about his best friend, especially when he was getting ready to go out with someone else. It went against everything he has ever been taught and Inuyasha knew he would be breaking his poor mother’s heart if she could see him now.

It wasn’t his intention to lead Kikyo — or anyone else — on, but Miroku was right: all it took was one real good date. If he couldn’t risk losing what he had with Kagome by making a move on her, he could only move on. Maybe Kikyo was the solution, the cure to this affliction.

Inuyasha shook his head in an attempt to get away from his reverie.

He was going to be late at this pace.

Dressed on black jeans and his best shoes, he searched the closet for his favorite sweater — the red one he has owned since forever — growing impatient when he couldn’t find it.

Did I leave my sweater there, Inuyasha texted Kagome while he expanded his search from the laundry basket to his unmade bed — on and under —, then behind the couch and to progressively more ridiculous places. Nothing. He checked his phone for an answer, but Kagome hadn't even read his message.

Which was perfectly fine.

Just because she didn’t reply as quickly as she usually did, didn’t mean something happened. She was a grown woman who was most likely busy. No need to get antsy.

He did need the sweater, though.

Mind made up, Inuyasha threw in the first clean shirt he could find and walked to her door, unceremoniously turning the knob and frowning at the realization that it was locked. Great. She either wasn’t home or chose this of all days to finally take his advice and keep the goddamn thing secured for once.

“Kagome,” he tried, gently knocking. It looked like she wasn’t there. Inuyasha knocked again to make sure, a little firmer this time. He was debating going back to his apartment to get the emergency key she gave him when his ears caught the sound of her clumsy footsteps approaching. The lights went on and she unlocked the door.

“Hey, have you seen—”

Kagome was a mess. Her hair was up in a chaotic bun, loose strands hanging from everywhere and framing her pale face. Her scent was wrong, the pink that normally colored her cheeks was concentrated on her small nose and her eyes were extremely puffy, but most importantly: right there, covering her petite body was—

“—my sweater.”

“Uh?” Slowly, Kagome followed his gaze, her doe eyes impossibly wide as she looked down at herself. “Oh, zorry! You wand this back,” she said, making a motion to take it off.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he countered, blushing immediately, “you’re sick.”

“I’m fined.”

Inuyasha ignored her, letting himself in and closing the door behind him, not at all proud of himself for promptly conjuring up a hundred ways of getting her to wear his clothes again and a thousand more of making her take them off.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he asked, “I could’ve come sooner if you had answered my text,” Inuyasha added, carefully avoiding to let out how anxious not hearing from her had made him.

“Phone died and the beds took be out,” she finished her explanation with a sneezy.

“Ya feelin’ any better?”

“Yeah,” she lied, walking to the couch and wrapping herself into a blanket-made cocoon.

“Have ya eaten anything?”

“Not hungry.” Inuyasha reached for Kagome’s forehead to check her temperature but she moved away, “Don’t wand you to get zick too.”

“Idiot,” he touched her anyway, “half demons don’t get sick.” Her skin was concerningly heated and Inuyasha knew right then he wasn’t going anywhere that night. “You’re burnin’ up.”

“I’ve always been hot,” she joked.

“And now you’re delusional too,” he informed her in his best fake patronizing tone. Kagome’s laugh quickly turned into a coughing fit, so Inuyasha took a seat and brought her feet to his lap. “Alright, here’s what’s going to happen,” he began, fishing his phone off his pocket and selecting Kikyo’s contact, “I’ll put on some trash movie for us while you drink lots and lots of fluids. I’m gonna make you a soup and my mother’s famous antidote—”

“I’m not drinking liber again.”

He looked at her long enough to say “you’re gonna drink whatever I give ya, you big baby,” before returning his focus to the message app, rapidly typing I’m so sorry to cancel, but my friend got sick and I’m on nursing duty. Raincheck? and pressing send. “If you don’t get better then, I’m taking you to the hospital. Get that?”

“Whad about your plans?”

“Hm?”

“That’s whad you wanded the sweater for, right?”

Blowing off a hot date in favor of staying home with his sick girl friend was something Miroku would never let him live down and Inuyasha would be lying if he said he was looking forward to that particular conversation, but in that moment, he couldn’t care less.

A platonic cozy night with Kagome still sounded infinitely better than any potential romance a stranger could offer.

“This is more important,” Inuyasha shrugged. “Now,” he continued, pointing the remote to her flat screen and willing the streaming service to start, “what do you want to watch?”

A/N.: sorry about last chapter, here's a peace offering for the "modern" prompt of @inukag-week

#Inukag #Inukag Week #Inukag Week 2023 #One Hundred Ways To Say I Love You #Sidposting

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fahbev · 7 months

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Sooo I decided on a whim that I was gonna do Inktober! Week 1 under the cut

Day 1: Dream

Based on a dream I had about a mouse that could draw better than me, and then turned into a little girl. She was being hunted so I ran away with her into the woods. Also for some reason I was a teenage anime boy and half of the dream was in an anime style instead of live action? Idk.

Day 2: Spiders

Wanted to try out some different nose shapes and i’m SO happy bc she’s SO pretty. Anyway. POV: you just walked in on her. Leave her and her tarantulas alone!

Day 3: Path

For this one I used water based marker and went over the ink with a wet brush to make faux watercolor.

Day 4: Dodge

This one fought me the whole way. I was not feeling the prompt and had to force myself to draw it. It looks fine i guess but it was not made with love.

Day 5: Map

This one was ABSOLUTELY made with love! It’s Maps Mizoguchi with one of her maps! I love her so much! Didn’t feel like drawing a convincing map. She’d be disappointed i me for making a bs one, so I just made it super cartoony? Idk. She’s the important part. Every time I draw her my friend asks “is that the new Lois Lane from that superman show?” Including a drawing where I had LITERALLY written her name next to her head—

Day 6: Golden

Ok photographing colored pictures is a lot harder. Lots of editing to make the colors how they are irl. I guess using acrylic paint pens is kinda cheating? But I made the ink drawing on top of it lol.

Day 7: Drip

Cass here with ALLL the drip!! Again I am pushing my chubby Cass agenda.

I don’t have it in me to post daily, but i can either make group posts like this each week or each week release seven posts at once. Not sure which is best. Yes I have today’s done but i’m saving it for next week.

#art #my art #inktober #inktober 2023 #inktober 2023 week 1 #oh boy i’m really in it for the long haul now aren’t i?#did this entirely on a whim #oopsie #cassandra cain #maps mizoguchi #mia mizoguchi #bahfev’s mouse dream

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soobnny · 2 years

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TWITCH RIVALS

☆.｡.:* nothing is worse than getting paired up with a stranger for twitch rivals 2022, except maybe being matched with your very competitive ex boyfriend park sunghoon.

note: bc of popular demand, i have decided to write a lil epilogue chapter for twitch rivals!! i hope u guys enjoy this : ( i have missed ynhoon so much

previous ⟡ masterlist

taglist: @from-xero @amakumos @forjusticeandspite @acciomylove @giyyuzz @msxflower @pixyseeun @luvddeonu @stoatwashere @sonjuyeonnie @bigtittietoji @yougeans @gongiz @leefelix-gf @emobeomgyu @aetalanta @meijiamikas @ja4hyvn @navsnct @hakuyeo @c9tnoos @yeonwon @diestheticu @hyuckslytherin @woniecore @coolcloudpsychichumanoid @tomorrowbymoa-together @woniebae @sunbokie @mykalon @jakehoongff @enhacolor @abdiitcryy @sunoo-bby @maeumiluv @koroktsuya @chirokookie @enfinity @clarakyunisageek @jnkhoon @yjwfav @baekhyunstruly @angelicncity @you-njinhwang @hazelhoon @mybabywearschanel @jungwonerz @kkquml @brbkpop @heesplanet @tobiosbbyghorl

epilogue

A multitude of events followed after Twitch Rivals ended.

For some reason, Winter’s actions had been exposed to the public - nothing too specific (thank God, you didn’t want everyone to know what had happened), but it was revealed that she had most to do with yours and Sunghoon’s breakup. This prompted her to take a long break from streaming and Youtube. She has yet to apologize, but she promised in her farewell letter that she would reflect on herself and focus on her music for the time being.

As for you and Sunghoon, It’s been a rough year trying to rebuild everything again. It wasn’t easy for him, having to win your friends over, and it was particularly challenging to act like you two were the best of friends right away. But as promised, the both of you became more honest and open with one another.

Your progress was kept in secret - you didn’t want to tell the masses that you and Sunghoon were actively trying again, afraid of how the media would affect things. While you know a lot of people were supportive of the pair of you, you wanted to figure things out yourselves first before announcing the possibilities of getting back together. You didn’t want to risk anything - love is full surprises, isn’t it? Frankly, you were growing tired of these surprises. You just wanted love to stay constant this time.

You ponder over this as you quietly make your way towards Sunghoon’s apartment. You’ve practically memorized the path as you’d been here every Saturday in the past months, to the point where you’d confidently say you can successfully find your way even if you were to be blindfolded.

You don’t even need to knock twice when Riki is swinging the door open, pulling you in a tight hug. “Noona! You’re here. I was so excited to find out it was Saturday today because I knew you’d come over.”

“Is _____ here?” It isn’t hard to miss Sunoo’s excited squeal when he comes running out of the kitchen to give you a hug too. “What are you two boys doing here?” You smile at them, messing with Sunoo’s hair a little while Riki waits patiently for another chance to hug you.

“We just finished a joint stream around 30 minutes ago, but Sunghoon promised us pizza. And we knew you were coming over so we stayed behind. Wait, noona, Sunoo and I are gonna do an Animal Crossing stream later tonight, do you wanna join us?”

“I’ll see if I can get home in time. You know Sunghoon, he can be quite convincing when he asks you to stay.” When Riki pouts at your response, it’s hard to see how everyone views him as intimidating. While his viewers and his friends knew he was actually sickeningly sweet, a lot of people were still afraid to approach him as they knew he appreciated his close circle and doesn’t want to make much effort to expand it.

Still, the sight of him pouting tugs at your heartstrings, and you’re almost convinced to leave early to join his stream - that is if Sunghoon didn’t walk into the living room.

You hear the door unlock before you see him, still you instinctively bring your eyes towards the person who just walked into the apartment, meeting Sunghoon’s gaze. He silently greets you with a wider grin than usual as he sets down a couple of pizza boxes - one of which was instantly snatched by Sunoo and Riki as they run back into the kitchen.

“Hi.” Sunghoon smiles sheepishly, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace. “I missed you.” He buries his face in your hair, breathing in your presence and sighing in relief.

“We saw each other last Saturday, Hoon.” Sunghoon doesn’t think he can get over the fact that you’re calling him ‘Hoon’ again - everything was falling into place. “Last Saturday is a long time ago. We can’t even stream together because the last time we tried to a few months ago, the stream almost crashed.”

You laugh at the memory - you and Sunghoon decided to stream together as friends with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. It was only supposed to be a couple of Valorant games, but the news that you and Sunghoon were interacting again after Twitch Rivals broke and everyone decided to raid your stream. It was a funny experience, aside from the fact that your stream almost crashed.

Rumors and theories immediately spread to Twitter, and a lot of people wouldn’t leave you alone since then, constantly typing and asking questions about Sunghoon in your chat (the same goes for him). After that, you two decided not to stream together for a bit until you had figured each other out and were sure of what your relationship was going to be.

“Brighten up, idiot. You don’t look as cute as Riki when he pouts.” You hear a snort from the kitchen and Sunghoon’s yelling at them to stop listening in to your conversation. You shake your head fondly as Sunghoon tugs at your arm to pull you into his room to get a little privacy.

“Are we not gonna get a pizza box for ourselves?” He breaks into a smile, grabbing a pizza box real quick before rushing back into his room. “Thank god, I only came here for the food, you know. The cute boy who lives in the apartment is just a bonus.” Sunghoon laughs heartily at your comment and you join in.

You two eat quietly, talking about almost everything. He asks how your friends are, and you smile at how he’s continuously trying to get along with your friends. Although Jungwon was still on guard, he wants you to be happy, and he can see that Sunghoon is doing that. Wonyoung and Ryujin had warmed up to him a couple of months ago, finding it amusing to make fun of his dad jokes.

And in the middle of your conversation, you spot something you weren’t sure you were supposed to see. Still, as if a magnet, it pulls on you to walk towards it. You can hear Sunghoon mutter under his breath.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

In your hand was the rubiks cube, the same one from a couple of years ago. However, this time, it was painted to look unsolved again, the type that could be solved in one move.

“Well, I guess now that you’ve seen it, now would be the best time to do this.”

“To do what?” Your voice comes out as a whisper, and Sunghoon quietly takes the rubiks cube from your hands. “I repainted it. And as you can tell, I made it so that one single move can solve it. I was trying to be cute, referencing the past because you know, this rubiks cube is kind of our thing and I didn’t know if this was going to be cringe, and fuck, I’m rambling.” Sunghoon takes this as a good time to take in a deep breath before giving you a soft smile.

“The point is… I know love has been nothing but difficult for us. And at one point, we almost didn’t know what it looked like. But, I recognize love this time around and she looks beautiful standing in front of me.”

Familiar tears build up in your eyes when he hands you the rubiks cube. You feel an overwhelming sense of warmth and happiness wash over you as he wraps his hands around yours.

“And I was wondering if love would give me a second chance. Just one move, and I’ll know my answer.” You laugh when the tears start falling down your cheeks and you glare at him playfully before twisting a side and solving the rubiks cube.

“Does that give you your answer? You’re such a sap, you know.” You sniffle, wiping at your tears as you smile fondly at him. God, he’s all you’ve ever wanted and more. Sunghoon reaches for your hands and sets down the rubiks cube in order to intertwine them together.

“Thank you.” His forehead is against yours as he looks into your eyes lovingly. It seemed that he was overwhelmingly relieved and shocked that you had decided to give him a second chance. “Can I kiss you? God, I’ve been wanting to for a year now.”

When you nod, a warm grin breaks over his face and he uses his palm to cup your cheek. Moving slowly, he inches forward and steals your lips in a long kiss. The feeling of his lips gliding over yours, warm and chapped, but so soft, make your heart pulse in your chest.

And while it might’ve taken time, love finally remembers.

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4dtk · 3 years

Note

hello my honey bunch UMM IM NOT SURE IF IM SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE EACH ONE??? BUT IM GONNA DO IT ANW

can i request 3 from the hand holding, 16 from the hugging, 26 from the kissing and 3 from the touching with jaehyun!!!!

FUCK IDK IF I DID RIGHT I HOPE THIS IS OKAY <333

yes you did it right, dont worry! hope u enjoy this angel!! and welcome back <333 (ps holy crap this is long AHASHDHDH)

hand-holding, 3: cold hands in warm hands

hugs, 16: ‘not wanting to let go’ hugs

kisses, 26: giggling while kissing

touching, 3: hiding face in neck

“c’mon! you’re gonna miss the sunrise,” you drag jaehyun along the mountains, a clear path etched into the ground that visitors always took whenever they wanted to view the sunrise. the both of you got lucky today, being the only two people who got up early enough to catch the night sky turn into yellows and oranges, before it rests in the usual sky blue you’d see up in the sky.

well… one of you was. “do we really need to see the sunrise again, baby? i was perfectly content cuddling with you…” your husband knew better than to argue with you when you have your eyes set on something, especially with something like a sunrise. it was a by-product of why you selected this B&B atop of a mountain where you’d be freezing your asses off, but jaehyun could hardly reject your suggestion when he saw how excited you were.

“oh, i’ve always wanted to go back to a mountainside hostel! i remember the last one, ’twas so good, whatdya say?” jaehyun remembers every detail you’ve told him: from the countless cats, to the stunning trail to where you watched the sunrise with your family, the edible flower they cooked up for you. he can’t say no when your eyes are lit up like that, and so, he hauled himself out of bed to put on a simple outfit, relying on your hand to guide him.

you know he doesn’t mean it, but you pout either way, both at his words and the time on your watch. it’s dangerously close to when the staff said the sun would rise. the thought alone of missing the sky drives you to take quicker steps, struggling against the thin air the higher and higher you went.

“hah… finally,” you mumble to yourself, perching yourself near a field of crops that belonged to those living nearby. you were careful not to crush any of the sprouts, patting the space beside you as you waited for the show to start. jaehyun takes your hand wordlessly, letting out a gasp at how cold your hands were; it showed you appreciated the warmth with the way your fingers curled around his, it was natural instinct, both a result of your body reacting to warmth and to the love of your significant other.

“you’re freezing, angel,” jaehyun laughs, “maybe you made a mistake wearing fingerless gloves this morning. c’mon, take ‘em out.”

“it was dark!” you glare at him, “and no, you want me to have a frozen hand when i touch your face later?”

“i’ll warm it up for you, c’mon.” you grumble but comply either way, removing the sad excuse of protection from the cold, fingers instantly curling into your husband’s. he blows onto it, conversation falling silent as your keep your eyes trained on the sight in front of you.

it’s slow, the minutes pass, the sky barely changing. the sun decides to stop the teasing, unleashing its brilliant lights that prompt the both of you to squint. it becomes more bearable to longer you look at it, welcoming the painting of warm colours you never tire of seeing. it mixed like an impromptu painting, unknowingly presenting a magnificent piece of art despite the messiness among the clouds and skyline.

jaehyun has moved behind you by then, engulfing you in his arms while he continued to warm your hands. jokingly, he wedges his hand in between your neck, surprising you slightly with his ice cold lips that were slowly cracking.

as the colours thicken and blend, you can feel the other snuggle more into the crook of your neck, gentle and careful to not shock you again. his body fits with yours perfectly, body warmth gradually shared the more and longer you embrace. with a shift of your butt, you’re moving to stand up, but immediately gets pulled down by his strong arms.

“not yet…” he mumbles, fighting against sleepiness for you. there’s a stammer in his voice as he struggles to find the words he wants to say. you attempt to stand up a second time and this time, jaehyun lets you, ready to follow you with an arm around your waist. “why’d you wanna stand up?”

you say nothing as you place your hands on his cheeks, cold to the touch. there’s time for you to admire his face later, so you dive in to fit your lips to his. it moves without trouble, having done this countless times like how jaehyun’s arms fit around your middle. his body is pressed flush against your own, able to feeling every muscle that’s reacting to your kiss that it leaves him hungry for more.

it makes you woozy, dizzy, dopey, the way jaehyun is fondling you, lips moving in tandem with the squeezing hands on your sides. a bit of warmth creeps up from the side, signifying the last bits of the sunrise. it makes the other smile, but you’re not sure why.

you pull away curiously, mouth only an inch from his as you impatiently waited for his answer. “no… just… funny how you brought me up here to watch the sky change colours and instead you’re locking lips with me.” he says with a smirk.

“oh my god, shut up,” you’re giggling like a schoolgirl, taken back to when you’d laugh shamelessly backstage as the members teased you; including the time when the two of you were interviewed for one of korea’s slice-of-life magazines with a suggestive answer on jaehyun’s part… and also of the time when you almost slipped on cake batter that you dropped on the floor.

each day you spend with your boyfriend-turned-husband is guaranteed to be filled with laughter, and now is just one more memory to store away. jaehyun hovers over your lips this time, unifying your smiles with miscalculated kisses that never quite land. you’re struggling to contain it now, breaking contact to stretch your lips into a grin that is reciprocated by the other.

“will your cute ass stop giggling?” he wants to fake his anger, but it backfires as his own laugh fills your ears. it feels like a warm hug after a rainy day, and you give him just that while your arms encircle around his neck. you can’t care much for the colours blooming in the sky now, rather admiring the crimson appearing on his cheeks even after the many years you’ve been together. you bury your face in his chest.

“thank you, jae. for loving me,” your confession is whispered so soft that the other is convinced he wouldn’t hear it. but he does, and the softening of his eyes is something you don’t catch.

“i’m happy to do it. everyday, baby, it’s everyday that i fall deeper and deeper. i hope it’ll never end,” you’re silent, but the words make your heart and cheeks flare up and it’s a minute before you find the courage to say your part.

“likewise, jaehyun. i love you.”

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

ANOTHER TITLE

a/n: personally i’ve been waiting for this part to come since the beginning lmao, so here is the proposal finally!! it’s like so fluffy, almost disgustingly, but i just couldn’t help myself

pairing: Sebastian Stan X Reader

word count: 1.8k

This fic is part of the LITTLE ONE series, but can be read as a simple oneshot as well! Find the masterpost of the series HERE!

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

You’ve been eating like a hormonal teenage boy these past weeks and you know it needs to stop and held under control, but you just can’t help yourself. It’s like your stomach has become a black hole that needs to absorb any and every food that’s home, you’re constantly snacking beside the large portions you eat three times a day, there’s always something you’re craving, the shopping list on the fridge is changing every hour because you think of something else to eat.

Luckily, you haven’t gained that much weight besides the noticeable bump that’s your baby in your belly, seems like your little girl does need all the food and she uses it instead of letting it all get stuck on other parts of your body, so you’re fine for just now.

Sitting on the couch, watching some kind of soap opera, you’re snacking on an entire jar of Nutella this time, shamelessly stuffing your mouth with the sweet, thick stuff, pretty sure that nothing will be left of it by the end of the day. Sebastian is away again for his second filming that was scheduled even before you found out you were pregnant and he messed around with it a little, shortening it once again and you just visited him last weekend. Now that you are pushing the end of your second trimester, your bump is quite evident, not something you can hide easily, so when you showed up on set with your boyfriend, you didn’t even try to cover it up, knowing well someone would spot it sooner or later. However everyone on the team has been so respectful, keeping the news to themselves, because no headlines have been made about your pregnancy just yet, keeping the secret even longer. To be honest, you’re surprised it hasn’t been discovered sooner, you thoughr someone would catch you out and about and see right through your baggy clothes and sell the news to the tabloids, but now you are in the sixth month and no one knows a thing.

Your phone chimes next to you, a text from Seb and you hum to yourself happily, putting the jar aside to grab the phone and see what he wrote.

“How are my two favorite girls doing? Miss you a lot!”

He even attached a silly selfie of himself in hair and makeup, he looks adorable with the clips in his hair and some kind of patches under his eyes. Like a real beauty guru.

Grabbing the Nutella, you place it on top of your bump as you move the phone to a lower angle and take a selfie that makes your bump look even bigger, the jar on top and you grinning widely at the camera as you snap a picture and send it to him with your reply.

“Enjoying our third snack of the day at 11 am! Miss you too, can’t wait to see you next week!”

He reads the message right away, his reply coming just seconds later.

“Look at that bump! You look gorgeous, baby! Can’t wait to see you too, have fun with your sister today, love you lots Xx”

Since he has left you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy so you don’t miss him too much and you’re also using these weeks to spend as much time with your friends and family as possible, knowing well once the baby arrives you won’t be going out that much for a while, nestled up in your home, learning the ropes of being a mother. Today you are meeting up with your sister, she is taking you out to this alleged new, quite fancy restaurant you haven’t heard about before. She claimed that it’s really exclusive, so you don’t have to worry about being photographed or bothered, but she also told you to glam yourself up for the occasion. It’s gonna be some nice sister time, something you haven’t been able to do in a long time.

You take the assignment seriously, doing your hair and makeup the best you can and you decide to put on a flowy maxi dress with a soft, knitted cardigan, very much going for a kind of cottage core vibe. Leaving just in time you text your sister that you’re on your way, putting the address into the GPS and heading out of town, because the place is near the beach. She texts you back that she’ll meet you there and so your short little road trip begins. Sitting in the car you’re listening to one of the many playlists Sebastian has made for you and the baby, he likes to play them at home, humming the songs under his breath, hoping to start educating your little girl in the field of music as early as possible. You have to admit he has a good taste, so you don’t mind it at all.

As you follow the instructions of the GPS you find the place that’s supposed to be your destination, but it doesn’t seem like a restaurant at all, more like a mansion of some kind, a very expensive looking if you are being honest. There are no other cars, no sign of other people so as you park at the front you call your sister.

“Hey, I’m right outside, but I have a feeling I’m at the wrong place? It doesn’t look like a restaurant.”

“Oh, don’t worry! You’re at the right place! I’m a little late, but I’ll be there soon, just go inside, they are expecting us!” she assures you, but you’re still not convinced.

Ending the call you approach the entrance and for your surprise the heavy doors open before you could even knock or find the bell. A man in a tuxedo appears in front of you, smiling warmly at you.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nod, a little shy and confused.

“Please, follow me,” prompts as you walk inside and the two of you start crossing the grandiose hall of the building.

At this point you are sure it’s not a restaurant, but you have no idea why your sister wanted you to come here. You want to ask the man if you’re even at the right place, but he called you by your name so he was expecting you, this has to be the place where you’re supposed to be. More and more questions pile up in your head as you follow him out to the backyard, a gigantic, flower-filled garden that’s straight out of a fairytale, a path leading down to the beach where there’s a dreamy little pergola with even more flowers and fairy lights and as your eyes fall on the figure standing in the middle of the pergola, you immediately gasp.

Because surrounded with all the flowers and lights, there is Sebastian standing in an elegant suit, smiling widely at you as the man next to you helps you down the stairs before you start walking down the path to him.

Tears are flooding your eyes, because you already know what it is, but you can’t believe it’s really happening. He was so sneaky, he got home from filming earlier and even made your sister play along to surprise you, he is such a romantic soul, no one can change your mind about that!

“You’re not in Atlanta!” you tell him when he is finally close enough to hear you. He chuckles sweetly, taking a few steps forward to meet you sooner, his hands finding your waist as you cup his face in your hands, pulling him down to kiss you right away.

“No, I’m not, baby,” he smirks, his hands sliding to your belly, gently stroking the sides as you wipe your tears away, but there’s no use, because the next moment, he steps back a little, just enough so that he can get down on one knee and you’re crying again when you see him pull out a little velvety box from his pocket.

You were expecting it. You knew he would propose before the baby arrives, but you just didn’t know when and how, but he surely outdone himself with his little surprise.

“My Love, Y/N,” he starts after a deep breath, his hands finding yours and you can feel the shaking, but you’re not sure if it’s coming from yours or his. Probably both. “I’ve spent the best years of my life with you and I haven’t been the same man since the day I met you, but in the best way possible. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky that you did not only choose to be with me, but you are now carrying our baby under your heart as well, out little one who is equal parts of you and me, though you’re doing ninety percent of the job here,” he adds with a chuckle, making you laugh through your tears. “I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you the moment you were so badass on your first date, kissing me when I didn’t have the balls to do the first step, but I’m glad you did. I fell in love with you right then and there and the same thing has been happening every day, over and over again since then. I know we went a little out of order with everything we had planned,” he smirks, glancing down at your bump before his blue eyes find yours again, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so I have a question for you.”

He pops the lid of the box open, a gorgeous, brilliant diamond ring coming to your vision, sparkling in the warm afternoon Sun so perfectly, it takes your breath away.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asks, clearly nervous, even though there’s no doubt about your answer, you’ve told him plenty of times before that you want to marry him, but still, it’s a huge moment in both your lives.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod eagerly as you both start laughing in relief, his shaky fingers tagging the ring out of the box and sliding it to your finger gently, before he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring.

Then he finally stands up and you basically throw yourself into his arms, kissing him like your life depends on it as he kisses you back with just as much force.

“I love you and I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he sighs pleased against your lips.

“Mm, another title in the line? Girlfriend, baby mama, fiancé and then wife,” you giggle giddily.

“You missed one,” he cocks an eyebrow at you slyly.

“Which one?”

“Love of my life.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan blurb #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan fiction #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader

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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

Note

“I’m done. I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction.”

With Marcus Pike? Maybe BFFs to lovers because I want it to end happy? Thank you 🙏

Love of his life

Pairing: Marcus Pike x best friend!Female Reader

Characters: Marcus Pike,

Setting: five years after the last episode Marcus was in.

Rating: PG:13

Warnings: 2,774

Summary: Conversation overheard leads to feelings of regret at the chance not taken. Will he take that risk and go for who he wants or let it slide away just like the past?

Word count:

Notes: Written for the lovely @hnt-escape asking for the prompt “I’m done. I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction.” Will be in bold in the story. I hope you enjoy sweetie.

Tag List:

Forever tags: @chickensarentcheap @jedi-mando

Pedro Pascal tags: @evyiione

Staring into the caramel colored liquid ceramic mug warming your hands, thoughts clouded by a certain brown eyed man and how to handle the feelings you’ve harbored since grade school.

“Trying to divine this weeks lotta numbers from you coffee sweetie?” Soothing southern accented voice breaks through the fog smile in the sweet lilt.

Head snapping up to look towards the blonde, grin firmly in place over her ruby lips, “I wish, would donate at least half to research the antiquities we have that no one’s cataloged yet.”

“Wow devoted,” chuckling, walking over to the Keurig k-cup spinner to pluck the last Colombian dark roast pod. “What or should I say who’s on that gorgeous your mind that’s got your brow furrowed deeper than the Mariana Trench?”

Not wishing to discuss your thoughts right now, you deflect to ask, “Those things waste so much Donna and bad for the environment. Why don’t you just buy the bulk grounds?”

“Great way to keep from answering the true question,” baby blues lock, sincerity written deep and meaningful. Knowing she’s only trying to help having confided many times your dilemma those feelings you’ve held on to for so long brings about. “I don’t know why you haven’t told him sugar I mean you came to DC…”

“For this job Donna, Marcus turned up later… not much later,” last few words muttered into cooling coffee you try to hide behind while taking a sip. “I didn’t upheave my life for a man,” not sure who you’re trying to convince more yourself or Donna.

Established in your position at the museum a month before Marcus’s transfer and at the time he’s heavily invested with one Teresa Lisbon. Memories flood through like film reel before your eyes. Of that very night he comes to you heartbroken bags in hand with no one beside him and no real place to go. Promising yourself to shove your feelings aside and help him get back on steady legs. Even letting him stay till his place became ready to move in.

Loud snort greets your ears, breaking you from memory lane. “You keep telling yourself that and while you’re at it keeping him friend zoned when your clearly in love with him does neither one of you any good. He ain’t gonna wait around forever sugar trust me on that one,” hurt coloring her tone speaking volumes of her own pain. She looks away to watch the final drops of coffee land in her mug. You know exactly why she’s not looking at your right now, the hurt she tries to hide behind the bubbly personality. Fixing her coffee up just the way she likes to hide her own pain she’s shared a few times.

“How,” licking your lips slowly, mug placed beside you on the counter to clasp your hands in front of you. “I’m not even sure how or where to start Donna. He’s my best friend knows me inside and out I don’t…”

“Do you love him?” Simple question with no easy answer as grey blue eyes land on and pierce you with their intensity.

“I…” wringing those hands her question chases thoughts around your head. Finally giving the heart answer, “I love him, just unsure if he loves me in the same way. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to change the dynamics of our relationship and loose what we have for a what if.”

“Oh sweetheart I know it’s not easy to bank on what if’s but trust me when I say that man loves you in ways I’ve never seen and I’ve seen a lot.” Giving you a teasing wink then sobering, “Why do ya think I haven’t tried to snag him up myself?”

“Cause he’s not your type?” Joke sounding stupid to your own ears, glaze dropping to your shoes. “What if… what if I’m not his type? I mean you’ve seen the women he’s gone out with before. I’m hardly in the same league.”

“No your in a league of your own sugar.” Head nodding in understanding Donna comes over resting a hand on your bicep giving a gentle squeeze. “Compensating maybe even trying to replace the one he truly wants sweetheart. Don’t let a good man slip away especially since you love him.”

“I do, he’s,” head shaking at a loss for words to describe Marcus. “Amazing and sweet, the kind of man that’s so easy to love and care for. I’m lost truly without him.” Happy tears blur your vision for a moment thinking about him. How he’s always at your side just when you need him without notice at times. Sixth sense when you need those late night pancakes from the best diner in town. Watching old movies after a crappy break up, snuggled together with popcorn and beer, snacks of all kinds. Snap shot of his face filters across your vision, “I’m gonna tell him in fact,” glancing down at your watch finding end of day fast approaching. “Would you close down for me Donna I need to tell him now before loosing my nerve.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice sugar go get your man,” nodding towards the doorway you start for, coffee long forgotten in favor of someone more sweeter. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“There’s things you wouldn’t do?” Cheeky grin highlighting your features, the sound of crinkling plastic reaching your ears so you look down. Frown replacing the smile at finding a small bouquet of blue tipped carnations laying on the ground. Bending to scoop up the beautiful flowers knowing only one man would’ve brought these. “Shit,” curse flying from your mouth while your feet start to eat up the distance towards the back doors bouquet held firmly in your grasp.

Missing Donna yelling about your keys and belongings, to not forget about the storm rumbling in the background. Wide smile forming watching you go hoping you’ll catch Marcus just in time.

While you pray with each step taken you’ll catch him in time to explain. Thoughts running rampant wondering what he heard and didn’t. If the reason for the dropped flowers has to do with the fact he thinks you love someone else. That last thought spurs you on into a run, thankful for the flats you wore today instead of customary heels you normally wear. Eating up the distance you burst through the back doors into a curtain of rain meeting your eyes as more curses fly from your lips. You pause eyes narrowing through the gloom looking for Marcus’s car, his back, hair surely plastered to against his head. Something to point you in the right direction. At the right moment a flash of lighting illuminating the darken skies, makes you jump but press on determined to find him. While stepping out into the pouring rain, clothes soaked through low rumblings of thunder taking your calls out for Marcus away with the howling wind.

Tears form and slide down cool cheeks, still franticly looking around but coming up empty till you catch the flash of grey out of your periphery. Whipping around you head in the direction calling out his name praying there’s a break in the rain so your voice carries to his ears.

And for a moment that one split second he catches a sound other than the storm raging around him. Sweet desperate voice calling out his name, giving him pause in dragging footsteps. Looking around but seeing nothing but the driving rain, drops soaking his suit and blurring his vision. Before turning to resume his path the voice calls out again, nearer and stronger than the last time.

His doubts cloud the mind, accusing him of hearing things the wind brings from other parts of the parking lot. Till a vision dressed in black slacks, creamy silk blouse, hair and clothes plasters to your body appears in front of him. Hand raised in the vain attempt to keep the rain from your face as you search for him.

Eyes lock surprised deep chocolate orbs meet the relief in yours, “You’re gonna get sick sweetheart go back inside.”

“No,” single word yelled out as you near Marcus, gripping his bicep and moving closer to speak into his ear. Warm breath making him shiver despite the cold rain trying to drown the both of you. “Why’d you leave?”

“Saw you busy didn’t want…” shaking your head Marcus swallows catching sight of the flowers in your free hand.

“You dropped these why?” Hurt lacing the tone in your voice as you bring the small plastic wrapped bundle up between you. “Thank you.”

Eyes dart between the flowers and your eyes unsure how to answer your question as so many of his own chase around his mind. Wanting the truth Marcus gather’s his courage to ask, “Do you love him?”

Confusion coats your veins, drawing up your brows with the same emotion till it clicks. “Yes, very much in fact you just doesn’t know it.”

“I’m done,” pain etched into his voice heart aching behind its prison of bone and flesh. Misunderstanding the look in your eyes and the words your spoke. “I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction. I just can’t do it anymore it’s so much worse than any of the other.” Taking two steps back from your touch that sears the skin under heavy suit jacket and starch white cotton dress shirt. Gaze dropping to concrete unable to look into your eyes a second longer knowing he’s lost the chance. Internally cursing himself for waiting so long, letting other’s in his heart when the one woman he’s wanted all along stood by him through all life’s ups and downs.

Frowning at the loss of touch, his words sinking in you step forward he matches with one back. “Marcus,” soft achingly tender voice reaches out towards him. Heard now the rain has slowed to light drizzle. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to tell you I love you? Not as a brother or best friend, but in love with you.”

“What?” Single word choked off on a gasp, eyes reaching your smiling orbs trying to find the jest. Only seeing genuine love backed by worry and fear that he doesn’t truly have the same feelings. “You never told me.”

“You didn’t tell me either Pike so we’re kinda in the same boat,” carefully reaching out for his nearest hand tugging him back towards you. “So many times I’d try to tell you, to explain, to see if there’s a chance for us. Every time someone else got my shot. I gave up almost for good this time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Moving closer, warm palm coming up to cup your cheek from apple to jawline. Thump brushing slowly over soft delicate skin drowning in your eyes as you rubbing your cheek into his large palm. “Never would’ve guess you felt the same way.”

Not sure how to answer the first question, so you joke instead. “Not only good at picking out a fake piece of art but putting on a good show.” Trying to infuse a little lightheartedness into the tense moment. “Gonna call Oscar see if they’ll give me one of those little golden guys for my performance. Not Ingrid Bergman worthy but I can hold my own,” nervous little laugh leaving your lips that Marcus brushes his thumb over the bottom lip. Stuck dumb by the action breath shallow before held while trying to depict the emotions running through those sweet brown eyes. “Say some Marcus.”

The tremor in your voice shakes the shocked cobwebs from his mind to focus his thoughts. Picking up that you haven’t answered his first question, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Which time?” Breathy sigh leaving your mouth as you try to gather the right words. “Not to mention your my best friend Marcus I didn’t want to fuck that up especially if you didn’t feel the same way,” taking a breath fresh rain mixes with the warm subtle cologne Marcus wears. “Couldn’t risk loosing you and changing our relationship for a what if.”

“And now?” Cupping the other side of your face, keeping your chin tilted upward, eyes searching the depths of yours. Finding the peace he’s missed out on with everyone who came before. Home written in your embrace, sweet light flora scent wrapping around his senses reminding him of just who he needs.

Swallowing, pink tongue coming out to wet your lips, a path he follows with rapt attention. “I recently became enlightened by a good friend reminding me sometimes you need to take those chances.” Both arms wrap around his neck, flowers still clutched tightly, free hand carding through rain soaked strands at the back of his head. Blunt nails scratching gently over Marcus’s neck receiving a shiver that vibrates through your body and has nothing to do with the cool air or wet clothing.

“And you want to take that leap with me?” Inching closer with barely a millimeter’s breath between your lips. Eyes still wide open assuring each other and finally showing the truth and need.

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful love affair,” cheeky smile splitting your face at the crinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. Knowing full well you’ve gotten the quote wrong on purpose.

“Here’s looking at you kid,” deepened voice sending tingles of excitement racing down your spine. Slightest brush of his chapped lips to yours bringing a sigh and parting your mouth that’s captured and devoured.

Angling your head just right as he licks into your sweet coffee tasting mouth mixing the minty freshness of his. Low groan whispers between your lips, which moves and changes. Nibbling his bottom lip, slipping your tongue over the bruised skin to sooth before sliding back into the warm cavern of his delectable mouth. Dreams having no merit on the real kiss that makes your toes curl a moan of your own existing to join with the groan he’s let loose. Air becoming much needed and you part to rest foreheads together.

“I love you to have for a long time,” admitting his feelings frees a part of him held back for so long. “I’m sorry for all the missed opportunities but if you’ll let me I’ll make them all up to you.”

“Start by taking me home to change then out for pancakes,” bright smile blooming over your lips that press into his. Unable to stop yourself from giving another tender kiss while wrapping your arms around his shoulders tighter. “And kisses lots more kisses,” mumbling the words into his mouth while initiating another kiss for emphasis.

Only breaking when someone clears their throat you both turn to see Donna standing there with your purse in hand. “No making out in the parking lot you two take it home,” grinning extending your purse towards you. “Just remember don’t do anything I would,” before turning to start back towards the museum. “Congratulations by the way took y’all long enough.”

“There’s things you’d do I wouldn’t Donna,” you call after her shaking your head before looking back up at Marcus. Catching the look burning in his eyes, “I’m guessing pancakes won’t happen tonight huh?”

Soft smirk slides over those kiss swollen lips, “Later but right now I have other plans.” Tugging you against his chest for one last deep drugging kiss that leaves you weak kneed and panting.

“Care to share those plans?” Snuggling into his arms as you both head the last short distance to his car.

Opening then crowding you into the corner of the door hands braced on either side to lean in placing a soft chase kiss to your cheek. “Making up for all the missed time and then later,” pausing to brush his lips over your ear. Whispering the last words with gentle puffs of air floating across your skin. “I’ll make you those pancakes and lick the syrup from your lips afterwards and any other place you’ll let me.”

“Only if you’ll let me return the flavor,” mischievous smile stretching across your lips, ducking under his arms to slide into the car. Finding him still standing there, you tug on his jacket gaining his attention.

Darken eyes meet yours, “I’ll even paint you like one of my French girls,” sending you a playful wink while closing the car door and running around to the drivers side. Marcus slides in, key slipping into ignition, simple flick of his wrist the car flares to life and he’s backing out heading for home and a new start filled with promise.

#Request #Marcus Pike x Female Reader #Marcus Pike x FemReader #Marcus Pike x F!Reader #Marcus Pike Fiction #Pedro Pascal Character fanfiction #The Mentalist Fiction

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shoichee · 3 years

Note

Heyy congrats on 100 followers^_^ Could you do prompt no 25 with kise?

HELLO HELLO HELLO THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT;; i am finally here with this request! This Kise is a mixture of dramatic, whiny, wholesome, and asshole (if you REALLY squint though) just sweeter overall~

Kise x Reader

25. “You’re mine. I don’t share”

Word Count: 2953

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

The day he had always dreaded slowly crawled by after the sluggish, harsh months of winter took their sweet time.

Though, he’s quite certain that the dreaded day would also… ironically take its sweet time to pass to the subsequent day.

“(y/n)-cchi!!” He sees you fumbling with your school bag on the school benches before he sprints to your side. “What’s with the frown anyways?” He stops to rub a thumb to smooth out the furrow out of your forehead. “Come on, if you keep that up, those wrinkles would actually stay there permanently, y’know… it wouldn’t be good for your skin at all.”

Upon seeing your exasperated reaction to his dramatic exclaim, he couldn’t help but childishly grin. Perhaps today wouldn’t be bad after all. Not when it started off on such a good note like this seeing you first thing in the morning.

“Anyways,” you sigh. “You didn’t have to run all the way over here… I was gonna catch up to you in a few minutes.”

“Yeah, but…” Kise gives a chagrined laugh, fiddling with his locks. “You looked really scary having a scowl like Kagamicchi, (y/n)-cchi. Wanna let your boyfriend in about your troubles?” Of course he had to pull the puppy eyes on you. Typical Ryōta.

“Hmmm…” you hummed for a bit, clearly trying to stall for an appropriate answer but putting up a facade of being dramatic like Kise. “Not really of importance. Just something I’ve been thinking about to deal with some scheduling and last-minute things.”

“Eeeeeeh? It didn’t really look that way to me…” Kise pouts, jamming his hands into his blazer pockets as he continued to stare at you. You slightly squirm under his intense scrutiny, but you sigh before turning to walk ahead. “But if that’s all it was, you can always ask me for help, (y/n)-cchi.”

“And since when did our all-star player and model have spare time?” you tease, swiftly changing the topic. “Hurry now, Ryōta. We have to get to class or we’ll be late.” Yet, even as you continue to briskly walk, you still felt something piercing at the back of your head before that feeling eventually subsided. You turn to call for him before you continue strolling into the building.

Kise sports a harsh frown, staring at the ground pensively for a few moments before sighing. He finally walks to class after you, trying to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable incoming chaos.

———

“Kise!!”

“Wh-Where did he go?! He was… just here a moment ago…!”

“Do you think he’s with that basketball club…?”

“Bummer… I really wanted him to have these.”

“So why do we have to help you hide when you could always tell them off to leave you alone?!” Kasamatsu scolds, irk marks apparent on his temple. “You’re always creating these problems for yourself!”

“Kasamatsu,” Moriyama ticks his tongue in disappointment. “Don’t be crass. We should be thanking him for bringing everyone over here. In this way, we all have a greater shot of getting chocolates, or even better… a cute date!” At his words, the captain only groans before facepalming; however, when he takes a deep breath and turns to lecture Kise about these matters once more, he notices the 1st-year’s sullen and distracted expression.

“Oi, does this sort of stuff really bother you?” Kasamatsu roughly ruffles his hair to snap him out of his thoughts. “You shouldn’t be encouraging this type of behavior from others. Just put a stop to them for your own good.”

“It’s not that…” Kise mumbles while looking off to the side with his arms crossed. “Besides, they always follow me around regardless of what I do anyways.”

“Oh!! I saw him moping a(l)ound after (y/n)-san [went ahead] this mo(l)ning! Su(l)e(r)y it’s about that!” Hayakawa explodes into the conversation with enthusiasm, eyes slightly sparkling at the fact that he hit the nail on the head about Kise’s mood. Kise only pouts more in silence in response.

“Well, if that’s the case,” Kasamatsu huffs irritatedly, as if the solution was as clear as day. “Then talk it out with (y/n)-san! Quit moping around like you have all the time in the world!” As he said this, he puts a firm foot on Kise’s back, ensuring that there would be a visible footprint on his blazer.

“Ow!” Kise laments. “But Kasamatsu-senpai… We’ve just started dating, and it feels out of line if I’m always snooping around in (y/n)-cchi’s business… It wouldn’t make sense for me to be nosy if they already told me they could handle this on their own… but…”

His teammates lean in closer to try to pick up Kise’s next words.

“Today’s Valentine’s… day, so I was kinda hoping… things would be… different?” Kise stops to crane his neck around out of uncertainty, which was quite uncharacteristic of the usually self-assured ace player. “Though (y/n)-cchi never seemed to be someone who liked stuff like this, but it would be nice if I got…”—he coughs out the next words—“... chocolates from… y’know.”

“W-W-What?!” Kasamatsu’s entire face erupts into a red tomato, slowly backing up. “That’s what you’ve been upset about?!”

“Ah,” Moriyama says, as if he understood everything. “Yes, yes… I see it now. Kise, if you want to get chocolates from (y/n)-san, you have to create the perfect inviting atmosphere and present yourself as an elevated gentleman. I guarantee this method will work…!”

“Moriyama-senpai, what are you even talking about?” Kise raises a skeptical brow but nonetheless tries to be polite to his senior. Hayakawa slings an over-friendly arm around his shoulders, but with the sudden weight, Kise’s head slumps down a bit.

“You can do this!!” Hayakawa shouts, pumping a fist up.

“What? Do what? No way I’m taking Moriyama-senpai’s suggestion!” Kise firmly pries Hayakawa’s arm off before he does his easy-going sigh. “It’s not that big of a deal. Don’t worry, I’m sure we can all go do karaoke night instead, right?~”

“Hmph, no taste. I still suggest for us to go pick up dates after school today,” Moriyama huffs with a slight pout, but it looks like no one paid any mind to his comment, because everyone started packing up their belongings to go back to their respective classes after lunch.

———

Kise plasters on his usual beguiling smile across his face, trying hard to not grimace at the ever-growing piles of sickenly sweet desserts on his desk… and the ever-louder fawnings of surrounding students vying for his attention. While the coos and ah’s are thrown in his direction, his mind is elsewhere… to you.

You’ve been actively avoiding him today. That much was obvious… especially during breaks.

Even when he eyes at your desk every so often, you don’t even notice his gaze, deep in thought with a scrunch in your brows every single time. Did he do something to upset you recently without him realizing it? He taps his pencil with a steady rhythm on his desk while racking his mind for any possible offenses he might’ve committed… all with that convincing smile still visible on his face.

“Kise, Kise! Will you accept my chocolates today?”

“Ah… hm…”

“Kise-sama, what do you think about these?”

“Nothing in particular…”

“Please take these…”

“Now, now everyone…!” Kise’s voice finally rings out loud and clear, taking Kasamatsu’s suggestion. “I’m touched that everyone put in their efforts for these! But you see… there’s way too much for me to carry and take home as of now… so I would really appreciate everyone to save it for someone much worthier of these chocolates than me!~”

Either way, Kise was going to dump all of the sweets off to the Kaijō team for them to enjoy these more than he ever could. After the clamors of disappointment and understanding, he was relieved to see that he was finally left alone, with the mountain of chocolates being his sole company. Yet, he was still hoping that you would stop by his desk after the crowd dispersed.

You didn’t.

———

He’s unbelievably antsy.

So much so that even the other upperclassmen besides Kasamatsu had to kick him out of his thoughts to focus on practice. Still, could anyone blame him for being so jittery when it was already after school, with still no signs of you nearby?

“What did I just tell you about that gloomy face?” Kasamatsu asks, smacking the back of Kise’s head. “Did you not talk to (y/n)-san about this?” The team starters were walking out of the gym, their outstretched shadows covering the orange-cast path with every step they took.

“Er… well… (y/n)-cchi didn’t look like they were in the mood for a conversation with me—Kasamatsu-senpai don’t give me that look! I swear I didn’t do anything wrong at all!”

“Tsk tsk,” Moriyama butts in. “Looks like you didn’t try my foolproof plan either.”

“Your idea is the last thing I’d ever do!”

“Hmph, suit yourself.”

Kasamatsu stares at Kise for a few moments, turning to face his shadow on the ground before looking at his face again with a frown. Kise catches his gaze and returns it with an inquisitive look of his own.

“Kasamatsu-senpai… that look you’re giving me is sorta scary, y’know…”

“Kise,” the captain says. “You said that (y/n)-san likes you right?”

“Of course!... or at least I hope so.”

“Then you shouldn’t worry, dumbass. Didn’t you say that they might not be a fan of doing things like this? Valentine’s Day isn’t for everyone.” He sighs before continuing. “So don't get yourself in a twist just because you didn’t get candy from them. Just because everyone has always given you chocolates every year doesn’t mean that there won’t be a first time where someone won’t really do that. Keep your ego in check, rookie.”

“E-Ego?! Rookie?! Kasamatsu-senpai, you’re cruel!”

“The captain means well, Kise,” Kobori says, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He’s right that today isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Perhaps (y/n)-san merely thought of it as another ordinary day.”

“Well… when you put it like that… I guess you’re right… It’s not the end of the world if I don’t get chocolates from them, and I guess it’s not fair of me to expect something like that out of them and get upset when it doesn’t happen. Thanks, senpai.”

“Well if you got it, then quit moping! If our ace player is in low spirits, the rest of the team will follow suit! Jeez…”

With his spirits uplifted by his seniors, Kise stops and waves off his upperclassmen before he sets off to look for you. Even if he doesn’t get anything from you, he wants to spend time with you before Valentine’s Day was over at the very least. Now… if he remembered your normal schedule, you should still be on campus near the…

He stops, wide-eyed.

Were you giving chocolate to someo—were they giving you packaged chocolate too?—

Before he could fully register the dull pain settling itself in his heart, his legs moved into overdrive, sprinting at breakneck speed that would’ve ended Aomine’s fast-pace career had he actually done this in the courts.

“(y/n)-cchi!!~~~~” He cheerfully calls out, completely masking the hurt from his voice and from his face. In hearing his unmistakable nickname for you, you turn to him mildly shocked seeing him bolting straight for you without a single warning.

“R-Ryō—!”

“(y/n)-cchi!~” He pounces on you with a fierce embrace from behind, his arms wrapped around your upper body and his head on your shoulder. But his chirpy closed-eye smile completely wipes off into a cool, narrowed stare directed at the person in front of you.

“... You’re mine. I don’t share.”

“Ryōta!” You turn around to face him within his hold with a chastise, and then you turn back to the person in front with an embarrassed apology. “I’m sorry, he’s usually not like this, I don’t think. Please don’t let him scare you like that…”

“(y/n)-cchi!!” Kise spins you back around to face him with his hands on your shoulders. You note the tight grip he had on you. “You’re awful, you know that? I waited the entire day for you to give me anything for Valentine’s but then thought maybe you didn’t celebrate today at all… and then you’re here giving chocolates to someone else?!”

“Um… (y/n)-san… should I leave?” You look out of your peripheral vision before giving a defeated sigh.

“I’m really sorry, but yes, that will be best. I hope you find the rest of the evening well.”

“H-Huh?! You’re… gonna ignore me? Oh, come on! We’re dating, right, so at least—” Before Kise went into full hysterics, you promptly placed a finger against his lips to shush him. Kise, who had a few tears accumulating on his long lashes, was stunned into silence, and it was frankly effective in stopping his theatrical tears.

“Ryōta…” you whisper, pulling your finger away from his lips to fiddle inside your school bag… just like this morning. He keeps quiet, but he resumes watching your every movement like a hawk. “I have your… chocolate here.”

“H-Huh?” Kise makes a noise of confusion but still keeps the silence, opting to try to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dummy.”

“I don’t get it.” He narrows his eyes, but you merely tilt your head in confusion while holding out the fancy package.

“H-Huh?” It was your turn to be befuddled. He crossed his arms petulantly in response.

“If you had it all this time… why didn’t you give it to me first thing in the morning? But you went and gave someone else chocolate first, and you know… it just didn’t feel good seeing you hand chocolates to them like that. Like, if I didn’t know better, I’d totally thought that you two were a couple—”

“Ryōta… were you jealous?”

“(y/n)-cchi, who wouldn’t be after seeing that?!”

“Ah, dummy,” you tease, realization dawning on your face. “Those were giri choco… they were the last club member I had to find to give to them in honor of our newfound friendships. You know, after the bonding activities we did in our club room this year?”

“Ah…?” Kise merely blinks before he slightly flushes from embarrassment. “But it still doesn’t make sense!”—he stops to wipe “tears” from his eyes with his arm—“I know we’ve barely started dating, but not only did you not give me anything until now, you actively ran and hid from me! You really broke my heart the entire day!” You grew nervous in an instant, slightly wringing your wrists and tapping one foot behind the other.

“People told me…” you started hesitantly, “that you hated Valentine’s Day. So…”

“Hn…” Kise stops his theatrics to give a casual shrug. “They’re right, more or less. I do find the entire thing annoying, to be honest.”

“Yes, exactly,” you reply. “Knowing you, they were probably right. Even still, I made you homemade sweets, but I didn’t know if it was a good idea to go through with this and give it to you. Besides, what if I was being too fast or forward? I don’t know… I lost all of my courage when I saw you that morning.”

“Eh??? Still, did you have to run from me like that? I seriously thought I did something wrong!”

“... I was jealous,” you whisper, looking down at your feet. “I didn’t like the fact that everyone was so bold to give you all their affection and confessions through their chocolates, but I didn’t feel like it was my place to tell them to back off. Felt like… it was better if I just… didn’t see it all. But… after seeing your outburst earlier, I decided it was the perfect time to give it to you…”

“(y/n)-cchi!!” Kise glomps onto you again, nuzzling his cheek against yours. Him being relieved is a huge understatement. “To think you were jealous too…!”

“Wh-What the—? Does that really make you happy?”

“Of course! It means that you care about me that much!” With one hand holding your Valentine’s chocolate, he tilts your chin with the other to plant a short kiss. “I was never a fan of this type of stuff, but… I love anything you give to me, I swear.”

“Ryōta…! K-Kissing? Right here in public?!”

“No one’s here anyways! They all went home, and speaking of home…” Kise grabs your hand to lead you out of the campus gates. “Do you want me to walk you home, or do you have any other place in mind you wanna go to?”

“Huh? Now? I mean, wait. How are we gonna go somewhere when you have all those… chocolates from school today? Wait, where are they anyways?”

“Oh, those? My teammates found them delicious apparently. I wouldn’t know.”

“You gave them away?!”

“Duh! Yours was the only one I wanted, (y/n)-cchi! Before you start lecturing me about how inconsiderate that is, if I just kept it, they would’ve all sat and melted on the tables anyways.”

You merely roll your eyes at him and sigh, but Kise only grins at your usual reactions to his antics.

“Just you wait for White Day next month, (y/n)-cchi~ I’m gonna go all out, and there’s no holding me back.”

———

Today might’ve been a bittersweet rollercoaster ride of emotions for the two of you, but the ending has morphed into something truly delectable. Just like the dark chocolate truffles in your Valentine’s gift to Kise.

#knb #knb x reader #kise x reader #kise ryota #kise ryota x reader #kise ryouta #kise ryouta x reader #kuroko no basket #knb fic #knb fics #knb scenarios #100 followers #100 follower milestone #valentine fic #knb fluff

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phoukanamedpookie · 4 years

Text

Unpopular opinion: Zuko and Azula love each other fiercely.

“The opposite of love is not hate. The opposite of love is indifference.” —Elie Wiesel

Azula and Zuko are anything but indifferent to one another.

Wanna see indifference? Look at Iroh and Ozai. Neither of them would lose a night’s sleep if the other died. Ozai sends Azula to bring Iroh back to the Fire Nation, dead or alive, and he obviously doesn’t care which. When Azula brings him back, Ozai has him thrown in prison like any other traitor, and he doesn’t even visit Iroh’s cell to gloat.

And the person who more strongly argues against killing Ozai isn’t Iroh, but Aang. You would think that, if Iroh gave a damn about his brother, he’d say something like, “I understand that Ozai has done terrible things and needs to go down, but he’s still my brother, so if you can, please spare him.” But Iroh never expresses such a sentiment. Ever.

That’s indifference.

Zuko and Azula can antagonize the shit out of each other, but they’re never indifferent.

For someone who can’t stand his younger sister, Zuko has several moments when he thinks or talks about her without prompting. When he captures Aang at the North Pole, the first thing he says to him is, “You're like my sister. Everything always came easy to her. She's a firebending prodigy and everyone adores her.” During his fever dream in Book Two, the voice of the blue dragon isn’t Ozai’s, as one might imagine it would be, but Azula’s. In Book Three, when he’s trying to figure out how to break the ice with Team Avatar, he asks himself, “What would Azula do?” In that same episode, after he confesses to sending Combustion Man after the Avatar, he berates himself for not pinning that on Azula.

Then there’s the fact that, in his way, Zuko has utmost confidence in Azula’s abilities. Again, when he’s talking to the rabbit-frog about how to handle joining Team Avatar, he specifically asks, “What would Uncle do?” and “What would Azula do?” Why them? Because they’re the two smartest people he knows. He might never admit it aloud, but he has a lot of faith in Azula’s intelligence.

Later in Book Three, when she falls off the airship, Zuko says, “She’s...not gonna make it.” Then Azula uses some firebending and a fucking hairpin to save herself from certain death. And Zuko’s like, “Of course she did.”

Unlike some folks in fandom, I don’t interpret this line as Zuko expressing genuine disappointment that Azula didn’t die. I interpret it more as, “Of course Azula found a way to cheat death with a goddamn hairpin. How could I even doubt for a second that she wouldn’t? It’s frickin’ Azula. That’s what she does. Look at her clinging to the cliff with her hair blowing in the wind, like a fuckin’ badass. She did it to make me look bad. I know it.”

Azula’s no different. For someone who teases and provokes Zuko as much as she does, she often goes out of her way to help him, advise him, reassure him, and spend time with him.

At the end of Book Two, while Zuko frets about Ozai restoring his honor, she tells him, “He doesn’t need to. Today, you restored your own honor.” Both she and Zuko return to the Fire Nation as war heroes strictly on the basis of Azula vetting for Zuko’s loyalty and prowess in the fight against the Avatar. When she notices that Zuko’s still in a foul mood because he didn’t capture the Avatar, Azula tries to convince him not to worry about it. Later, she warns Zuko about being seen visiting Iroh because it looks like they’re plotting together.

If Azula only wanted Zuko around to be her fall guy or to make him look and feel like shit, she wouldn’t bother with this. He’s perfectly capable of getting himself in trouble, making a fool of himself and working himself up into a foul mood, as shown many times throughout Book Two. If all Azula cared about was a clear path to absolute power, all she’d have to do is sit back and wait, and Zuko would take himself out of the picture.

Then there’s “The Beach.” Just, “The Beach.”

While Zuko’s being all angsty at the old family beach house, Azula knows exactly where to find him (“I thought I’d find you here.”) and gently persuades him to join her and their friends on the beach (“Come down to the beach with me. Come on. This place is depressing.*”). She doesn’t tease or put him down like we’d assume she would (that’s later), and he doesn’t dig in his heels or blow up like we expect him to (that’s later). In fact, she uses a remarkably soft touch here. She’s downright gentle. It would seem out of character if not for earlier glimpses of it with Ty Lee.

Later, while everyone’s sitting around the bonfire, she’s the one who sort of pushes him to look inward (something even Iroh has so much trouble trying to get him to do!), by saying, “There's a simple question you need to answer, then. Who are you angry at?” And she keeps probing, “Is it Dad?” (No.) “Me?” (No.) And keeps pushing, “Answer the question, Zuko. Come on, answer it.” After Zuko confesses that he’s angry at himself, she doesn’t let up. She asks, “Why?”

This is a revealing moment for the both of them. Deep down, Zuko doesn’t hate or resent Azula. He might find her Little Miss Perfect persona irritating as hell, but hat’s not the same. He might secretly envy how easily she seems to get and keep Ozai’s approval, but, again, that’s not the same.

Deep down, Azula does care about Zuko’s well-being, though that caring comes with a huge helping of, “Dude, get over yourself!” It’s almost comical how often Azula tries to get Zuko to join her in playing a game, sneaking around, or battling the Fire Nation’s enemies. There’s a lot of subtle hints that no matter how much Zuzu can get on her nerves, she sees the two of them as a team. And she’s proven right by how well they work together when pursuing the same goal.

Finally, there’s the last Agni Kai. With Azula’s defeat, there’s no triumph, no catharsis, as there was on the Day of Black Sun when he called Ozai out. Yes, there’s pity, but there’s also a kind of disquiet, as if he’s realizing for the first time how deep her trauma goes.

If there was no love or caring between them, there would be no tragedy. They would be an unstoppable team if they worked together, but the war puts them on opposite sides. Despite how they grew up, Azula is smart enough, and Zuko determined enough, to find a way to make things work, but they never got the opportunity to do that.

#atla meta #azula meta #azula #zuko

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multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer · 3 years

Text

Calculated Risk (Anakin x Reader)

Author’s Note: Here’s the Anakin fic I said was coming out today! Don’t worry, this one is all fluff after the last angst one I posted haha. I hope you guys enjoy! And as always, my tag list/ask box/requests are always open! Thanks so much!

Requested?: Yes, by @cluelessgurl - “I’d love to see a jedi reader coming to Anakin’s rescue during a battle, even though he felt like he didn’t need it but being grateful anyway, just the reader being badass basically lmao. That doesn’t mean the reader doesn’t get a scolding from Anakin after the mission though with some fluff of course.”

Summary: You swoop into battle to help your crush, Anakin, who has vehemently denied the need for any back-up on his mission.

Calculated Risk

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: None, I don’t think!

“Ready to report a status update.” Anakin’s voice crackles to life on a hologram behind you. Out of curiosity, you turn to see Obi-Wan talking to Anakin.

“Yes?” Obi-Wan prompts, raising an eyebrow. You drift over to Obi-Wan’s side, ignoring the glance he gives you as you train your eyes on Anakin. Yes, you have a crush on Anakin. But it’s not like he actually likes you back, so it’s no big deal.

“A small droid army has intercepted us and we are working our way through,” Anakin says, and you hear blaster shots firing all around him.

“Do you need...help?” Obi-Wan asks, hearing a few grunts from clones who are getting shot.

“Oh, no, we’re fine. I’ve got this mission completely under control, don’t even worry about it.” Anakin chuckles, refusing help a little too much. You and Obi-Wan give each other a knowing glance.

“Anakin, we can easily send a squad-”

“Obi-Wan, I assure you, I can handle this myself. Ahsoka’s here, too, and she would say the same thing. Right, Ahsoka?” Anakin calls out.

“Master, we need your help over here! There’s too many of them!” Ahsoka’s voice comes ‘off-screen’ from the hologram.

“See? We’re doing just fine on our own. Gotta go!” Anakin quickly ends the transmission.

Obi-Wan turns to you, clearly still not convinced by Anakin’s antics.

“It’s obvious that he needs a little help, but he refuses to call in more troops. If I send in reinforcements behind his back, he won’t be happy about it.” Obi-Wan grumbles.

“When has Anakin being grumpy ever held you back?” You laugh.

“Well-”

“What if I could offer a compromise?” You interject again, actually happier with your plan than what Obi-Wan wants to do.

“And what do you suggest we do instead?” He lifts an eyebrow at you and folds his arms. You have a habit of getting into trouble just like Anakin, so he probably doesn’t trust your ideas too often.

“Send me.” You grin triumphantly at him.

“Send...you?” He repeats back slowly, turning the idea over in his mind. It’s not a no, so you continue to explain yourself.

“I’m one of the best Jedi Knights, even you can’t deny that. I can be reinforcements. But I’m still not a squad being dispatched to him so he can’t be mad because you didn’t technically ‘send reinforcements.’” You smirk, knowing you’ve outwitted Anakin. Obi-Wan sighs, but you see the small smile he’s trying to hide.

“You have a fair point...and Anakin is always happy to see you, so he won’t be upset that you’ve been sent.” Obi-Wan thinks out loud.

“What?”

“I’m...gonna go now.” You murmur, still not sure if you heard him correctly.

“Okay, stay safe. And...keep Anakin out of trouble, please.” He sighs. You grin wickedly at him.

“You’re telling me that?” You ask.

“That’s true, you egg on his antics... Still, you know the difference between reckless stupidity and calculated risks that need to be taken.” He groans, motioning for you to leave already.

“Sure, Obi-Wan. I’ll see you once I save Anakin and complete the mission!” You laugh, running to the hangar. You climb into your speeder and take off from the cruiser, headed toward Anakin.

~+~

Upon your arrival on the planet, an imperial bomber greets you. You try to maneuver your ship around the blast, but unfortunately, it takes out one of your wings and your speeder starts to go down.

As the ship plummets to the ground, you (as gracefully as possible) flip out of the top of it and land on a nearby rock, not too far from the battle. You watch as your ship makes contact with the ground and blows up. Sigh, you suppose you’ll have to take a ship back with the others.

You slide down the rock you’re currently on and join in the battle, taking down droids as you fight your way to Anakin and his crew.

You spot Anakin fighting near Ahsoka, getting pushed back by the sheer amount of droids trying to overwhelm them. That’s the thing about the empire. They may not have good fighters, but they had a lot of them.

“Anakin!” You call, flinging your lightsaber like a boomerang through the sea of droids. You call it back to your hand with the force and find that you have successfully cleared a path to Anakin. You decide to take your chance while you have it and run to him.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” Anakin grunts, still fighting off droids. You deflect a blaster shot that was aimed at him while he’s preoccupied.

“Helping you, duh.” You make a face, jumping into battle next to him. The two of you work flawlessly together, making quick work of the droids.

“I said I didn’t need reinforcements.” He sighs.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not reinforcements. I just came here to see you, of course.” You wink at him, taking down another entire line of droids. Anakin watches in almost-awe as you fight off the droids, much more efficient than the rest of his crew, and maybe even him. He’d never admit that, though.

He watches you do a backflip over a droid, slicing it straight through the middle as you land behind it. This elicits a chuckle from his lips.

“Always one to put on a show, huh?” He smirks, glancing over at you as if he wasn’t just staring.

“Only if I care who’s watching,” You flirt, giving him a quick smile as the two of you fall back into sync.

It’s only a moment later when you speak again.

“Bend down,” You tell him.

“What?”

“Bend down.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!” You groan. Does he always have to question you? You never question his antics.

“Fine!” He crouches down and slashes at the feet of droids for a moment. You grin wickedly and use his back as a stepping stone, propelling yourself forward as you slice straight through a line of at least five droids.

“Gotcha!” You laugh, continuing to have fun despite being in the midst of a battle. Anakin shakes his head at you, but you see the small smile gracing his face.

“Always so dramatic with your fighting,” He tsks.

“Says Anakin Skywalker, the man who always has to have a dramatic entrance.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment.

“...Touché.”

~+~

Once the battle is over, you look over to Anakin who had made his way across the battlefield while fighting. He’s walking over to you, and he doesn’t look quite happy.

“Before you get mad-” But before you can even finish your sentence, he roughly grabs your wrist and yanks you over to the side of the group that was forming to get ready to leave.

He lets go of you and turns around to look at you, his eyes scanning all over your body. You suddenly feel slightly self-conscious.

“Um...Anakin? Are you checking me out?” You try to tease, but your words seem more shy than bold like you intended.

“Checking you out for injuries, yes.” He huffs, but you see a slight blush rise to his cheeks, making you feel a little bit triumphant for at least a small victory.

“We have a medic for that.” You muse, growing bolder now that you know you’re not the only one slightly flustered.

“I know but- you could’ve gotten hurt, (Y/n). Why did you come out here?” He seems slightly distressed even after he concludes that you definitely didn’t get any injuries.

“I came to...help? Didn’t you hear me when I arrived?”

“I didn’t need the help-”

“Anakin I was literally here. I fought the battle, too, and I saw how many enemies there were. You needed the help.”

“I...I didn’t want it to be you, though.”

You’re hurt by his words. Your brows furrow and you start to turn away from him. If he’s going to be like that, then you’ll just leave. You don’t have to put up with this.

“No, wait! Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…” He grabs your upper arm to stop you. He rubs the back of his neck nervously as you turn to look back at him.

“How did you mean it, then?” You hum skeptically.

“I...I just worry about you, that’s all. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me, I wouldn’t be able to take the guilt.” He murmurs, much quieter than he was before. You turn back to face him fully again, stepping just slightly closer to him than you were earlier. His face is downcast to the floor.

“Why?” You ask him, tilting his head up to meet your eye.

“I like you.” He blurts out. This makes your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t think he’d be so...blunt with it.

But once again, before you can continue he tries to explain himself further.

“I like you, (Y/n), and I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt. I wanted to handle myself so that you...well, you wouldn’t have to come down here and you’d be impressed by me getting it done all by myself.” He explains, almost rambling at this point. You put a finger to his lips, successfully shutting him up.

“Ani, I’m already impressed by you every day. You don’t need to take on an entire droid army to impress me, but I do appreciate the thought.” You giggle, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. You see his face flush again and you smile at the thought of making him feel this way.

You see movement in the background and you look behind Anakin to see some boxes shifting slightly to block the two of you off from the rest of the group.

“What are you doing?” You ask Anakin, knowing that he’s definitely using the force to do that.

“Just moving some boxes in the way of prying eyes so I can do this.” You don’t have time to react before his lips are on yours. You kiss him back eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck as his arms snake around your waist.

Once the two of you pull apart for air, there’s a goofy grin on both your faces.

“I was wondering when that was going to happen,” You giggle.

“We’ll have to keep this a secret from the Order.” Anakin breathes out, the smile not leaving his face as he takes your features in from up this close.

“I’m willing to take the risk.” You smile at him, kissing him again. He melts into your touch.

“Good, because I am, too.” He kisses you one last time. You finally break away from each other, knowing that staying here too long would cause suspicion.

“See you on the ship, Anakin.” You wink at him and walk toward the boxes, shifting them back with the force as you join the group again.

Anakin trails behind a bit, a dumbstruck look still on his face. You’d tell him to be more subtle, but it’s only Anakin’s squad of clones and you know they wouldn’t say anything. That, and it’s too cute for you to ruin.

Obi-Wan was right about you being the one to take calculated risks that you deemed worth it, and you’ve never been more sure about anything: Anakin is a calculated risk that is more than worth it.

~~~~~

Tags: @spideyboipete @rowley-with-ackerman @official-hitmxn @anakinlove

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin fanfiction #anakin fanfic #anakin fic #anakin fluff #anakin x reader fluff #anakin x reader fic

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jessie-writes-things · 3 years

Text

From the Darkness | Part 1

This is a commission from the lovely @grogusmum! I'm so so so sorry for how late this is love! Life got in the way a bit. Originally I was gonna do this as one giant piece, but you've been waiting too long and so I just needed to get something out. This ended up being a bit more soft-angst rather than fluff but I tried my best to balance it out. The next part will be full-on found family fluff though! 🥰

This whole thing stemmed from that throwaway line 'I've spent much time on Tatooine' from The Marshall. Basically, I just liked the idea of Din having a somewhat secret life hidden away there. It gets explained a bit more in the second part, but that's really all the context you need right now. 😅🥰

Pairing: Din Djarin x Neutral Reader

Words: 2.5k

Genre: Found family, fluff, soft angst

Warnings: Star Wars level violence, vague mentions of PTSD/Trauma, nightmares

Summary: Din comes home to Tattooine and you spend the night on the Razor Crest.

You always heard the Razor Crest before you saw it. The loud hum of the clunky engine made you jump every single time and you had always wondered how long it would be until the ship just dropped out the sky.

Your answer came quicker than you thought. It was around midnight when the first signs came, snippets of voices fluttered by like quiet, sleep-laced whispers on the wind.

See you we do! Coming home we are!

Then came the ship barrelling onto the landing pad, and you weren’t dramatic in saying you thought the planet was about to explode; walls rumbling, ground vibrating. Peli had been prompted to spew out a few choice words, stepping outside just as you did to watch the slivers of silver moonlight spring off the ship as it finally settled down.

The landing had been…less than graceful to say the least. The engine sounded worse than you’ve ever heard. One of her feet had been ripped clear off, making her tilt to the side at an unnerving angle and you didn’t even want to think about the number of outer plates there were to replace.

What worried you more was the look of annoyance on your boss’s face, pinched and red, and you just had enough time to convince her to head back to bed, promising to deal with The Mandalorian until morning. And thank every planet in the galaxy she listened because if the Crest hadn’t woken up the neighbourhood, you knew she sure as hell would of.

There was an etiquette, you learned through years of working on the hanger; you should never enter a person’s ship first. To regulars, it was like walking into someone’s home without being invited. But so early in the morning you weren’t for niceties.

You walked up that ramp like pray on a hunt, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and you may have stumbled a bit, but it was a hunt.

The Mandalorian was clearly waiting for you, sitting in the cockpit, the baby asleep in his pod although you had no doubt he was listening to every word.

Very out of character, he was the first to speak, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘It’s okay.’ It wasn’t…well, it was. You were just grumpy and tired and wanted to go back to bed, ‘She looks a mess.’

‘Can you fix her?’

You had assumed her mess from the work of another bounty gone wrong, maybe Mar again but you weren’t in the right mind to ask. ‘Depends.’

‘On?’

‘What you’re about to ask me to do next.’

There was a silence, a comfortable one but silence, nevertheless. Eyes heavy, you were fading fast, head resting against the passenger seat you had claimed as your own. You weren’t too sure if you had fallen asleep or not. You closed your eyes for what felt like a moment too long and when they opened again, Din had shifted his seat to look at you.

‘We need to stay for a few days.’ His head tilted like a little puppy dog. Helmet still on, you were left trying to imagine how he looked in that moment; eyes squinted, crinkled around the sides in admiration.

Not the exact words you wanted to hear, but not surprising in the slightest.

You decided to push again, ‘Anything else?’

He was smiling, at least you were sure he was, his voice sounding a little lighter despite the artificial muffle of the modulator, ‘Come to bed?’

---

I caught a frog today. Very big frog. I wanted to show you. But ManDad was not very happy with the frog in the big ship. So I ate it, I did. Miss you lots, I did. And so did ManDad. Smiles when he thinks about you, he does. I feel the happiness. Thank you for making him happy.

---

Turns out it hadn’t been Mar that took a hit at his ship.

There had been an incident, Din told you in the quiet of darkness, arms wrapped around you, his head buried safely. Long tufts of hair tickled your jaw and chin whenever he moved or talked, about due for a haircut but that was a battle for another day.

‘Moff Gideon is dead.’ But so was Kuill, the kind Ugnaught who had helped at the start of all this mess. Whatever was left of the Empire was still after the kid and Din still needed to find the Jedi. ‘Karga’s still alive.’

‘I thought he double-crossed you?’ At some point his head had moved onto your chest, letting your fingers card through his hair. You could just about see his face in the small cracks of light, not that he needed to hide anymore, sometimes you think the dark was comforting for him.

The smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips and you really hoped it was because of your touch and not the thought of the Guild agent. Small wins and all that, you guessed. Better to have Greef around than no one at all.

‘I can’t stay long.’ His voice wavered, ever so slightly. You had become accustomed to the bittersweetness of it all, stroking the back of his neck as your heavy eyes began to droop again.

‘That’s okay.’ While it felt like a brick being thrown at your chest, you understood. Truly. The entire Empire was after the kid and, subsequently, him. Not to mention the constant battle against other hunters who had it out for his head.

Because while you knew time was finite with him, at least you had something.

---

Happy to be home we are. ManDad gets lonely sometimes. Feel it I do. I try my best to make him smile but sometimes it does not work. Make him happy, you do. A man should not be lonely for too long, he must not, for loneliness can be deadly. When I am gone, look after him you must. Promise?

---

Quiet moments in the dark were always the loudest for Grogu. Like father like son, you guessed. Neither of them liked the stillness much, both of their minds racing faster than the speed of light. It was always easier to read them in these moments. Flashes of images blended into a mosaic behind your eyes as you tried to hold down a specific part of a memory or a dream.

Some nights it was easier than others. There were times Grogu would sense you in his mind and would purposefully push an image forward, always something he thought was silly like a particularly funny looking frog or a memory of Din singing to some cheesy eighties song you had left behind on a CD during their last visit.

The colourful rhythm and syncopated beats making the walls of the Razor Crest dance along with them and you did everything not to burst out laughing in the still night, biting your lip only for a small snort to escape. Din caught on, barely opening his eyes a crack to mumble out some half-arsed are you okay before rolling over and heading back to sleep again.

It was easier to read Din when he was asleep. Not that you did it much or even intended to in the first place. But sleep tore down the walls he had spent years building up, subconsciously pushing the dreams into your mind. If Grogu’s thoughts were a lulled whisper, Din’s were white noise. Fuzzy static took up most of the space, at times slipping to let through blips of voices or a grainy picture of long past memories. They were too quick to get a full idea of what he was dreaming about.

A boy.

The pop of blasters.

A woman screaming.

One deep breath and the image faded. Din would wake for a moment, eyes closed and he’d turn back to face you. His chest shook, barely and nothing noticeable normally, but you caught it, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, and mumbling a soft it’s okay as he settled back into you.

---

Today was not so bad, it was not. But sometimes I still think about the dark place. Scary and lonely was I. For a long, long time. Then there’s light and I see ManDad for the first time. And then everything is better, it is! No longer do I need to fear the dark.

---

Like always, Grogu climbed out of his pod early morning and forced the doors of the sleeping pad open, giving him room to wiggle his way between Din and you. These were the times you’d feel the tug of his mind at the doors of yours, asking permission to be allowed in.

If your consciousness was awake enough, you’d let him, letting the Green Bean explore the distorted images of Earth and your past life. You would find him standing next to you, present you, in the middle of the dirtied street, dark and damp as rain pounded on the concrete around you, drowning out the screams of the people as they rushed by.

He’d hold his arms up, a quiet hold me please passing by and you’d take him in your arms, holding him close. Sparks of fear rolled through you, weighed down by dread and it was hard to tell if it was coming from Grogu or your past self.

Clouds filled the sky like grey shadows. It had taken you a long time to realise they weren’t normal, that the clouds were too big, were floating by too quick to be anything natural.

That had been the first time you saw them. Aliens. Or what people on Earth would think of as aliens. Tall, grey, slimy, the stuff you had only ever seen on TV and they were now shooting from the skies in streaks of red light. Streets pathed in dust that smelt like ash and day-old water.

The two of you walked through the mess like ghosts, people running left and right and through you, some in slow motion while some were ungodly in their speed. They all died in the end. Zapped out of existence by a singular lazar.

Someone yelled about children. Save the children. Spare the children. Collect the children. Round them up near the hanger, discard the ones we don’t need, you know the ones I mean, don’t talk back to me. Their voice washed over you in cold chills, sounding so far underwater that they might as well not be there at all.

A man stopped in front of you. Tall dressed in all black. A human man staring right at you. He didn’t look panicked like the rest, was calm and collected as he pulled out his gun and aimed so perfectly right at your head. You didn’t move, didn’t duck for cover as he pulled the trigger.

You should know better than to look.

There’s a woman behind you. Was a woman behind you. She’s dead when you turn around, a pile of smoking ash on the cobbled path, already being washed away by the rain.

Then there was the child, arms still stretched out to hold their mother’s hand, eyes wide in fear but they don’t cry. No matter how much their heart is racing. No matter how much they want to scream as the man grabs their arm and drags them away, throwing them in line with the rest of them, waiting for their turn to be scanned and thrown in the hanger.

They don’t scream, even when the doors slam shut and darkness is all that’s left.

---

Awake, are you? Sleep I cannot. Wonder if ManDad knows how much I love him, I do. ManDad is amazing he is. He saved me from the dark and keeps me safe, he does. Let’s me eat cookies, he does. Such lovely cookies. Try some, you must. But ManDad hurts, I feel. Feel his heavy heart, I do. So much pain and loss cause a man to be sad. Want him to be sad I do not. When I am gone, please tell him all the time that he is special, he is. Always be my buir, he will.

---

‘Buir.’ Grogu sat on your stomach, watching with wide, curious eyes as he followed your finger to where Din moved back and forth getting ready to head out. It was just some low-level bounty, armature work really, but that didn’t stop the anxiety from budding in the pit of your stomach. Distractions curved the nausea, curled up with the pod door open, blanket tucked under your chin with the residual warmth of his body still hugging you, ‘He’s your buir.’

Din hadn’t put his helmet back on yet, the roll of his eyes contrasted with the small half-smile on his lips. In the light, it was easier to see the damage he had taken during his last fight. There was only so much an ex-bounty-turned-nursing droid and some bacta spray could do. The large gash across his forehead looked painful and you made a mental note to check it over when he returned.

‘Don’t teach him that.’

‘Why not?’

There was a pause. You caught the way the small smile faltered, wavering with doubt and uncertainty and maybe a hint of sadness although that last part was hard to tell. And while the wall Din had built around himself was thick, sadness was strong enough to creep through the cracks. Even Grogu noticed, large ears pricking, head tilting in ManDad’s direction with a small coo.

‘Aliit ori'shya tal'din.’

‘You’ve been practicing.’ The words were light, a brow quirked in your direction and you knew what it meant; you’re adorable. Thank you for trying. At least he was smiling, finishing up the last buckle on his holster ‘Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.’

Maybe you should have been more surprised by the slip of his tongue. The way he carried on getting dressed, not even pausing once at his mistake.

You had heard him say those words before a hundrad times or more. But you wondered how long he had meant those words. Months? Years? Was it a new development? Was it something he had always known?

But there was no surprise. Instead, a warmth planted itself in your chest, and it grew, branches stretching to fill every ounce of your being until it was all you could feel.

‘Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.’ His eyes widened at your mimicked words. The pronunciation was still a bit off and sometimes the emphasis was stressed on the wrong bits, but it was nice to know you were close enough that he understood you, ‘I know what it means now. You can’t trick me anymore.’

Din picked up the helmet and put it on before you had the chance to see the full smile that bloomed, but you heard it, the hints of pure happiness shining through the modulated, ‘I was never trying to trick you.’

You fought back your own smile. The heat spreading across your cheeks told a different story though, serving as a reminder of years old built-up emotions neither of you had time to unpack at that moment.

So, you did what you both did best. You quickly changed the topic, shifting your attention back to the Green Bean plopped on your stomach, happily teething on the small silver ball he sneakily snatched from the controls. A few seconds later and his attention found yours, giving you a gleeful smile as he held out the ball as a peace offering.

‘Ba'buir.’ You pointed back at Din and Grogu laughed, ‘He’s your Ba'buir.’

But Din was already out of sight, halfway to the door when he called back, ‘He’s older than me!’

Older, I surely am. And wiser. Yet know, you do not. Be careful ManDad For space can be dark and dangerous.

The lock hissed as it opened, seemingly louder in the suddenly quiet Razor Crest, ‘Be careful.’

‘Always.’

---

buir = parent

Aliit ori'shya tal'din = "Family is more than blood."

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum ="I love you."; literally: "I will know you forever."

Ba'buir = grandparent

#jessie writes #grogusmum #commission #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian soft angst #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #din djarin angst #din djarin fanfic #grogu #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fluff

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years

Text

Kinktober #20: My Turn: Mirio Togata

In which Mirio’s got a game for you.

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), aged up characters, fingering, teasing, edging, tears, Mirio trying his hardest not to be a sunshine boi and only sort of failing

Notes: See? See? I can do thirst. I can make it SEXY. Today’s prompt was “Edging” and I just loved the thought of Mirio trying his best to be a little kinky for you. He’s definitely got a filthy side.

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s a windy Saturday night in November and you’re curled in bed early with Mirio. Raindrops roll along the bias of your windowpane and the wind howls past your upper-level apartment.

But you don’t feel an ounce of cold, with Mirio- warm like the hearth- stretched out next to you. You’ve been like this all day, in and out of bed with episodes of a fluffy sitcom playing constantly in the background.

Now, though, as the chill of the evening’s pushed you closer together, your hands are starting to wander. It’s lazy at first- his rough palm up the edge of your thigh, your fingers dancing along his bicep. You’re easing into one another, and though you can feel the warm apex of where you’ll end up drawing near, you’re in no rush to get there.

Not yet, anyway. You’re about to eat those words.

“Princess,” he croons in your ear, drawing his lips up the side of your neck, “play a game with me?”

“Okay,” you giggle back as warmth blooms across your skin, following the path of his mouth. “But you picked Bananagrams last time, so this time I get to pick. Scrabble.”

He chuckles low and warm into your shoulder. Just the reaction you were hoping for. But he knows you’ve caught on, so he doesn’t even offer you a response. His mood has completely shifted.

That’s what you love so much about him.

“I wanna see how long you can last,” he murmurs. His fingers continue to trace up and down your thigh, as if he’s coaxing you around to the idea. But to you, it sounds like you’re going to get to do a whole lot of nothing while Mirio does his best to please you.

You don’t need any more coaxing than that.

“Like, without coming?” You hum, shifting a little so you can get a proper look at his face. He flicks his eyes up to yours, looking a little sheepish, but sure.

“Yeah. Y’know. I wanna test your stamina.”

You’re not exactly sure how to tell him that stamina isn’t a problem for you. He’s certainly never fallen short of satisfying you, but most of your sex life has been characterised by getting there in the first place, let alone measuring how long it takes you. You’ve never really had to hold out before- at least, not like he has.

This is going to be a cinch for you.

“Alright.” You smirk, but he’s one step ahead of you, already sliding his hand to your belly and starting to inch it toward the bottom of your shirt. You’ve got a flannel buttoned over your shoulders to keep the chill out, but it’s your day off and there’s no possible way he could have convinced you to wear pants.

Not that he’d tried.

He dips his face into your neck again, starting to kiss and lave his tongue over your delicate skin. You lean into the sensation eagerly, letting your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work their way toward the apex of your thighs.

The laugh track sounds quietly from the television as you let yourself relax. Mirio’s fingers are chilled as they dip into the hem of your panties, but he’s thrilled by the opportunity to pay you this kind of attention. He’s always so eager to get his hands on you. And you’re hardly ever in a position to deny him.

“I knew you were holdin’ out on me, princess,” he chuckles as his middle finger curls against your slit. You’re already growing wet with the anticipation of his touch, the shivers that his attentive mouth sent over your skin. He turns your chin with his free hand and drops a lazy kiss to your lips. All the while, he continues to gently explore your folds, working you open for him.

As he draws his wrist up to search for the swell of your clit, you’re starting to wonder if you do need to worry about your stamina. He’s barely touched you and already you’re starting to get those lovely little twinges of pleasure that have your hips twitching beneath his touch.

He grins, pulling his mouth teasingly from yours. “You’re gonna tell me if you’re about to cum, right?”

You never realized that his game was going to come with so many rules. But you know your own body- you’re more than ready to follow them.

“In that case, you might want to slow down, baby,” you breathe. Mirio laughs, nuzzling your neck and breathing hot puffs of air across your skin. The pad of his middle finger centers on your clit and he starts to circle in earnest.

“I could,” he quips, “or I could make it harder on you.”

His wrist flicks deftly back and forth between your legs. There’s something about the spot he’s found that’s tantalizingly perfect, and you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach. You purse your lips tightly, ready to ride that wave.

“Ooh,” you sigh, gripping Mirio’s thigh hard. “I’m close, baby.”

“That so?” He grunts in your ear. There’s an unfamiliar edge to his tone, but you don’t pick up on it yet.

“Yeah,” you whine, and he pulls his hand clean out of your panties. Your hips arch as you give a sullen little whimper. Immediately, you turn to face him.

“Why’d you stop?”

Mirio’s grinning. Normally, that grin sets you at ease. But there’s something about it today that sends a spike of nerves through your belly. He’s planning something.

You’re not sure you want to know what it is. You’re also not sure he’s going to give you a choice in the matter.

“I didn’t want the game to be over so soon, princess. C’mere.”

He slips a beefy arm around your waist and tugs you easily into his lap, situating you between his splayed thighs and letting you lean back against his chest. From there, he digs his fingers into the hem of your panties and tugs them down your thighs, helping you kick them off.

“Just relax,” he croons. “Watch TV. I gotcha.”

He brings his fingers to your pussy again, this time sliding his other hand under your thigh to join. He sinks two thick fingers into your slit, rubbing tight circles into your clit again. It doesn’t take you long at all to reach the edge. Before you can even warn him this time, Mirio stops again.

“Mirio,” you plead softly, but he’s still chuckling and nuzzling you, over and over again.

“You’re so cute when you want something from me. C’mon, let’s go again.”

He brings you to the edge one more time like that, pushing you so close you can practically taste the relief. When he pulls away for the third time, you’re squirming and fussing in between his legs.

“Let me cum,” you whimper. You’re not even proud about asking for it anymore. He shifts, crawling out from behind you and easing you onto your back.

“Don’t worry,” he continues. “I gotcha, princess. You think I’m gonna leave you high and dry?”

You glare daggers up at him, and he just shoots you an easy wink as he slips between your thighs.

“You’re getting tender down here,” he purrs, nosing his way up your inner thigh as he settles onto his belly. “Y’almost ready for me?”

“I was ready for you weeks ago,” you grumble. You can’t stay angry for long when he puffs hot air over your clit, then drags his tongue along the folds of your pussy and swirls.

He eats you out like a man starved, holding your hips taught against his mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. When you’re sure you can’t take any more, he lifts his chin, tonguing the swell of your clit and making you scream.

But he still doesn’t let you go. He pulls back from your pussy as you start to tremble, and when he does you let out a sob of such frustration that, when you open your eyes, his brow is creased with legitimate concern.

“Why won’t you let me cum?” You blubber.

“Aw, man.” Mirio stretches out next to you and pulls you into his arms. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, princess, I-I just wanted to try something new with you. I-I thought…”

“Please,” you sniffle, “please, Mirio, just fuck me, before I do it myself.”

He pauses and looks down at you in shock. For a moment, his eyes search yours. Then he breaks down, grinning fondly at you.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Alright.”

He gets back between your legs, shucking his boxer-briefs and quickly stripping out of his t-shirt. As soon as he’s bare you can see how much he’s been enjoying your little game. His cock is already rock solid, flushed and curving perfectly towards his belly.

“God,” he sighs, casting a gaze over your desperate form. “Look at you.”

He pushes your flannel up around your chest, exposing your ribcage and your chest. His thumbs strum your nipples. Then he grips your hips, positioning himself and easing smoothly into you.

Your head falls back against the pillows. Utter bliss.

But you can’t trust this pleasure.

He starts rocking his hips forward, undulating into you with dull cries of you’re so tight for me, princess, and I can’t believe you made it this far.

You don’t last much longer than that.

As soon as he settles into a familiar rhythm, the slap of his body against yours is enough to push you precariously close. You squirm underneath him, doing your best to hold out.

“Miri…Mirio, c-can I…” you choke, peering up at him as he continues to fuck you diligently.

“Of course, princess, shit,” he sighs, buckling over you. “Let go for me. Please. I wanna see it.”

The build-up has been immense. And the fall does not disappoint. You tumble over the edge like an avalanche, seizing hard around him as you grip his hips tightly with your trembling thighs. Your back pulls clean off the bed.

Your vision goes white.

When the spots clear he’s panting above you, his cock already going soft inside you. But you don’t care. He made good on his promise- you are neither high nor dry.

“There you go,” he coos, pressing tender kisses across your collar bones and down your shoulders. “That’s it. God, you’re so pretty when you’re coming your brains out.”

You muster a weak chuckle, pulling him into your arms as he collapses beside you. The TV is still playing, and you slowly settle back into watching together as you bask in the afterglow of Mirio’s vicious game.

“So that was… okay, in the end,” he finally says, tracing a fingertip down the buttons of your flannel as you tug the warm fabric back into place.

“Yeah,” you agree sleepily. “It was fun.”

“So we can do it again sometime?” He quips carefully. You purse your lips, pretending to mull it over.

“Sure.”

He bolts upright. “Really?”

You pillow your arms behind your head and smirk.

“Yeah. Only next time it’s my turn.”

#my hero academia #mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #mirio togata #mha lemillion #lemillion fanfic #kinktober #jbbkinktober2020 #lemillion #mirio #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction

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notasdriedapricots · 3 years

Note

19: 9 hours for Liz and Lucas for June prompts x

I'M HERE. July is almost over, but I'm here. This turned into a monster and I am so sorry. There's probably so much I could cut, and it's poorly resolved, and the prompt got very lost in the way, BUT it's something.

As always, thank you Iris for sending these, even if I take forever to get to them. From this list. 2200 words because I am a monster. I am so sorry. Also there is a musical part in this one, so if you can play that it'd be cool :D Okay, bye!

9 hours

Liz stopped playing when she heard the front door open and then close. She looked at the guest room's door with a smile, waiting for it to open next. Nothing.

"Lucas?"

No response. She checked her watch; in the middle of practicing a particularly hard passage she'd lost track of time, and of the fact that he should have gotten home over an hour ago. An hour ago even if he had taken the extra shift and forgotten to tell her. After leaving the bow on the table and setting the cello on its stand, she peaked into the living room. Empty. No white lab coat on the hanger next to the door, like he always left it when he was back. I'm about to get murdered, aren't I?

"Lucas?" she tried again.

His voice, muffled and lower than usual, reached her from the couch. "Here."

Liz found him lying on his stomach, face burrowed into a pillow and hands linked over the back of his neck, with the lab coat still on. Everything screamed 'hard day'. She leaned over the back of the couch, worry behind her eyes, and rubbed a hand softly up and down his spine. He sighed to her touch, the gesture reminding him to relax his muscles.

"Everything okay?"

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on his surroundings: the flat, the couch, her hand on his back. His shift – what had turned into a 9-hour shift, breaks not included – was over, and he was no longer at the clinic. It didn't smell like alcohol and disinfectant, but like fresh flowers and coffee. He was home, with Liz.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he sighed. "Hi." He freed one hand and reached behind him to grab hers.

She leaned down to kiss it, and he squeezed back in response. Liz bit her lip, pondering whether or not she should push further. "Bad day?" she risked, brushing his knuckles with her thumb.

"Could have been better."

She bit her lip again; that was enough of an answer to not dig any deeper. Her other hand raked his hair softly and Lucas suddenly felt his shoulders relax, unaware of how much tension he'd been holding there. He moved his hand away so hers could run down to his nape, letting out a low grunt when she squeezed; even she knew those muscles shouldn't be that stiff.

"You shouldn't be taking extra shifts when you've been so tired." There wasn't a trace of reproach in her voice, just soft concern.

"It wasn't that." She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue if he wanted to; giving him an out if he didn't. "I… I thought I was discharging a long-time patient today and… I thought wrong. We thought wrong."

Liz didn't know what to do. He'd been coming home so happy from work for weeks, seeing him suddenly this down completely threw her off. He was used to her shutting down when she was nervous about work, but it was the first time she was the one on that side of the situation. What do you need? What can I do? She debated whether to leave him alone or not. Maybe that's why he didn't come find me when he got home? But leaving while he needed her was unthinkable, she wouldn't risk it; if he wanted to be alone, he would tell her.

Lucas felt her let go of his hand and lightly tug at the collar of his coat. "Off."

She tossed it over a nearby armchair and sat astray his hips, and he got out of his head for just a second, long enough to raise a curious eyebrow to himself before his mind was flooded again with that morning's events. She leaned forward to plant a kiss on his neck, and when she felt him let out his deepest sigh yet, she knew she was doing the right thing; he didn't want to be alone. Another kiss landed behind his ear, before she sat up again.

"He got injured over the weekend and half the progress he'd made…" he started. Her hands slid under his scrubs and pressed onto his lower back, slowly but firmly, with both force and care, working their way up as she tried to recall how he did this when they were in opposite places. He rewarded her with a low grunt as he rolled his shoulders back. Ah, god bless you, Liz. "I don't know which one of us was more heartbroken, if I'm honest. He worked so hard for months…"

Liz felt a weight in her chest, a weight she assumed was only a fraction of the one in his. "You'll get back there."

Frustration slipped into his tone. "Yeah, but we were supposed to be there already��" With another deep breath, his voice turned pensive. "It's odd sometimes. Working a job where your biggest reward is to stop seeing your patients? Hoping you never see their face again unless you're crossing paths during a run in the park? I was gonna miss him, but realising I wouldn't need to for at least another two months…"

The defeat in his voice made it clear which patient he was talking about. A young man, a boy, that he always mentioned as one of his favourites. A teenager that had been in a very bad accident where he'd lost his dad, so that on top of his physical recovery was dealing with an even bigger emotional one. Of course he'd stayed back late, taken the extra shift probably to bring him back and work out a new plan moving forward. And of course you're still thinking about it.

"Shit happens, love." She felt him breathe in to respond. "I know. I know that doesn't help. But…" She looked up at the ceiling, shaking her head as her hands pressed between his shoulder blades. "You've always said it's rarely a straight road. And this is no one's fault."

"It's just that I… I'd never had something like this happen before. I'd heard professors talk about it over and over again, telling us to be ready for it, to expect it, but in five years it had never… actually happened."

To you. It had never happened to you. "Lucas, this is not your fault."

"I know that. I know, but…" His voice died. He'd been fighting that thought all day, only managing to do so because there was another bigger, much more bothering and heavy one.

She waited for him to continue. He didn't. "But?"

Another moment of silence. "It's not fair."

Liz sighed and stopped her hands, fighting back sudden tears. He'd never sounded so exhausted, so defeated, so unlike him. She had never hated this much that job of his that she so deeply loved. She threaded her arms under his, grabbing onto the front of his shoulders as she leaned forward again, letting all of her weight fall onto his back, trying to somehow protect him from his own thoughts.

He welcomed the pressure of her body on his. Okay, I get weighed blankets now. Again, he focused his attention on his surroundings, on her, the warmth of her body, the lingering hints of her perfume, her breath on his skin when she nuzzled under his jaw and then kissed his neck, long and soft. Her temple rested against his.

"I'm sorry, love," she whispered.

Her lips found his cheek and he turned his head to meet her mouth. It was sweet, calm, and soothing; a kiss that tried to convince him that 'it will be okay, you can still get there, you will get there'. He managed to turn onto his back, and wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. He brushed the back of his fingers on her cheek.

"Thank you, darling. I'm okay. Just tired."

She looked into his eyes and could tell he was lying, downplaying it. A frown crossed her forehead and she cradled his face in both hands.

"Stop it. Don't doubt yourself." If I'd managed to work faster this injury wouldn't have been a problem. She gave him a warning look. "Stop. I can't stand it."

"Maybe you should get another boyfriend, then."

She sat up. "Oh, you mean one that at least doubts himself over the right things?"

"Hold on, what is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm sorry, love, but there is such a thing as 'too much gel', you know?"

"I haven't used gel since we got out of the Villa, what are you-?" He smiled despite himself. "Oh, I see. That almost worked. Thanks for trying, though."

The playful look she'd managed to put on vanished. Okay. Big guns. "Floor."

"Excuse me?"

"Get on the floor. On your back."

"Darling, you're gonna hurt your knees…"

She slapped his chest, both holding back small smiles. "Har-har. I mean it. If even I can tell your back is messed up, it's because it's really messed up. Floor." She got off him and walked away towards the bedrooms.

Lucas sighed and complied, kicking off his shoes before lying on the floor with his ankles crossed on the couch, hands on his stomach. He closed his eyes. Why? Why did I have to play it safe instead of pushing him a bit further? I could have, he could have made progress much quicker and save… maybe 3 weeks? At least 2. And we wouldn't be here. Fuck, Sam, I'm sorry. He remembered the kid hugging him, apologizing to him for not being careful enough. 'You're the one back on crutches, what are you apologizing to me for?', he'd answered, trying to hide his own sadness to not bring the kid down even more. But truth was, he'd never felt more useless.

He heard a chair set next to him, and then Liz started to pluck strings on her cello. When the bow finally pulled the warm sounds he'd grown to adore, goosebumps instantly covered his entire body. He needed to make a joke or he was certain he would start to tear up, so he opened his eyes and looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Really, Liz? Cyndi Lauper-?" She shut him up with a kick without missing a beat.

And so he closed his eyes again and followed the melody as it flowed through his body, seeming to relax the last tense muscles while his thoughts started to slow down. Things started to fall into place and seem – at least a little – less dramatic, for some reason. We will work through it. It will be okay. We will get back to that point. The goosebumps never left his skin, and he almost shivered every time the sound got specially high or low. Damn, you're amazing…

Of course Liz hadn't just chosen any song to play for him, but one with a chorus that would say something. She couldn't do anything to solve his problem. She couldn't even do anything to help him with it. But what she could do, what she would do, was be there for him; to play for him, or give him what were probably underwhelming massages compared to his, or whatever he needed… But she would always be there. If she had to play a cheesy 80s ballad to get her point across, so be it.

Lucas kept getting lost in the sound of an old melody turned into something familiar and foreign at the same time; the strange part was that he'd never expected to hear 'Time after time' played on a cello, but the known one was that it was Liz playing it. She finished the song and silence filled the flat again. Lucas sighed deeply, a small smile playing on his lips. The corners of his eyes burned.

"How the fuck do you do that? It's just metal and wood."

"And almost 20 years of training," she allowed herself to joke at the sight of him visibly more relaxed. "And, you know, my soul."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. I love you so much. "That must be it."

The corner of her lip twitched into a brief half smile before concern returned. "Lucas it's-"

"Gonna be okay. I know. Shit happens." He offered his hand and she rested the cello on an armchair before lying down on the floor next to him and setting her head on his chest. He kissed her hair. "It's nice to know that you'll be waiting to catch me when I fall, though."

She snorted a laugh and hugged him tighter. "Time After Time."

"Okay, that is a cheesy line."

"It is. But I Will Always Love You."

They were both grinning now. "Oh, thank god. This will be an Endless Love, then. I promise I'm Never Gonna Give You Up."

She let out a loud laugh. Just when I thought I couldn't love a sound more than you playing the cello… "Never gonna let me down?"

"Never gonna run around and desert you."

"Good." She sat up and pressed a finger to his chest. "Now go take a shower and then we'll see what happens if I put Careless Whisper on, shall we?"

#Luz 💕#Liz #Lucas #sofi tries to write #kill it #it's ugly lol #yes I did just do that and no I am not sorry #i am sorry for the wordcount but i'm not sorry for *that*#deal with it #I hope at least it's kinda cute #litg lucas #lucas x mc

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phoenix-downer · 3 years

Text

Autumn Mending Chapter 3: Firelight Confessions

~1650 words. Romance, Angst, Pining, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Comfort, Healing, Making Up. For SoKai Day 2021.

Sequel to Kisses and Lies because I couldn’t just leave Sora and Kairi hanging, now could I?

Happy SoKai Day!

Summary: Sora and Kairi are still broken up, but with the help of old friends and Twilight Town’s fall festival, the spark between them just might be rekindled.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Sora felt lightheaded from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside his heart. So much had happened today. Kairi had shown up here on Twilight Town and had apologized for breaking up with him. Was it possible she still loved him? That she still cared?

The way he kept catching her looking at him sure made it seem like she did. And now this hayride. He didn’t want it to be over. He wanted her to be snuggled up next to him, holding his hand, for the rest of his life.

But while his heart and body cried out for joy and begged him to be closer to the one he loved, his brain was yelling at him to put on the brakes, to slow down, to be cautious. What about that guy he’d seen her with? What about the past year and a half of anguish and torment? Could all of that really be forgotten in a single day?

He wanted to forget. He wanted to put it all behind them. He wanted to forgive and move on and mend things with her. Even if it meant risking getting hurt again. The chance of being with her for good was worth it.

So all that kept his mind occupied to the point he was barely listening to the ghost stories. Before he knew it, the hayride was over and it was time to pile out of the wagon. A pang went through him when Kairi had to let go of his hand, and he wondered if she was as starved for his touch as he was for hers.

Hopefully they’d get to talk about it soon. Hayner, Pence, and Olette had rented one of the campfires nearby for the evening, and that was enough to temporarily distract him. Their little group spent the next couple of hours hanging out, cooking hot dogs and roasting apples and making s’mores. Sora loved sitting by the crackling campfire and spending time with his friends, but as the minutes ticked by, his eyes kept wandering to Kairi. She was seated across from him, and she looked really beautiful in the flickering firelight. Their eyes met, and she smiled and looked at him the way she always used to look at him.

“Oh gosh, I almost forgot!” Olette said, clasping her hands together. “Our pumpkins! We should grab them so we can light the tea candles in them.” She stood and stretched. “Hayner, Pence, come with me so we can grab everyone’s pumpkins and bring them back.”

Hayner and Pence finally got the hint and followed after Olette, leaving Sora and Kairi alone. He stood under the pretense of roasting another marshmallow, but really, he just wanted an excuse to sit next to her. He loved being close to her, and her natural scent mingled with the campfire’s smell in a way that reminded him of all the times they’d gone camping as kids back home.

“The embers are best here,” he said to explain his sudden change in position, and she smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh are they now.”

“Yeah.” A few seconds passed, and he added, “Listen, Kairi, about earlier—”

“I’m still in love with you,” she blurted out, and he dropped the marshmallow and stake into the fire. Didn’t even care about them anymore. Something far more important was at stake here.

“But—I saw you, with that guy—It’s why I left again—”

Kairi shook her head, and her eyes watered. “After our mission, I was hoping you and I could work things out, but I felt like you were avoiding me. I figured you didn’t love me anymore, and I couldn’t blame you. So when that guy asked me out, I thought, why not give it a shot. Why not try to move on and give you your space. But then he tried to kiss me, and I just… I couldn’t.” Her voice broke and she was crying in earnest now. “All I could think about was you,” she sobbed. “How badly you’d be hurt if you knew. How wonderful it feels when you kiss me. And I knew I was still in love with you. I knew my heart would always be yours. I knew it was pointless to try to move on.”

Sora stared at her, his heart pounding in his chest. Kairi still loved him? Kairi still wanted to be with him? That guy he saw her with was nothing more than a quick fling that made her realize the one she truly wanted to be with was him?

She wiped her teary eyes. “Say something, please.”

He gently caught her hand and tugged it away from her face. She searched his eyes, and he smiled and cupped her cheek.

“I love you too, Kairi,” he said, softly, tenderly, then brought his lips to hers. He kissed her with all the pain and homesickness he’d felt the past year and a half, all the pining and aching and longing, hoping she’d realize just how much he wanted this, how much he wanted her. And she kissed him back, so unguarded and wild and joyful that his pain started to fade away. What had happened couldn’t be undone, but it could be mended and healed, could be turned into something beautiful and good, could become another part of their love story.

When it was over, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. She leaned against his heart and gently touched where his scar was hidden under several layers of clothes. She knew it so well that she didn’t even have to look to know where it was. And he didn’t have to look to know where Xehanort had struck her down either; his hands had held the very spot countless times before and remembered exactly how to comfort her.

“I love you,” he said, his voice full of emotion.

“I love you too.”

He kissed her head and stroked her hair. “I’m gonna make you a new promise,” he said. “You mean everything to me, and I want to settle down with you, get married, start a family. The past several years, I’ve been saving up munny so we can do just that. Maybe we should go to college first though, that would probably be good. We’ve gotta provide for our family and for each other somehow. And I know it’ll be an adjustment for me. I’m not naive enough to think it won’t be. But you’re more than worth it.”

She sniffled and clutched his hoodie. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“It’s okay. You had a lot of reasons to be concerned. I’ve left you behind too many times before.”

“But you always come back to me,” she said as she looked up and searched his eyes.

“That’s right. I made you a promise, to always return.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out her lucky charm.

She teared up again and curled his fingers around it. “Keep it till we get home. For good, I mean. Then, and only then, will I take it back.”

“Deal.”

He tucked it back into his pocket and held her and kissed her and comforted her. He shared his hoodie with her too because even with the campfire nearby, she was getting a little cold. Plus it was just nice to be this close to her. He’d missed her, so much. And something about the fire was cozy and calming and enchanting. He could hold her like this and stare into it forever.

Well, until Hayner, Pence, and Olette returned with the pumpkins. They had big smiles on their faces, and Olette told them to close their eyes. Sora heard the lighter flicking a couple of times as their friends lit the pumpkins, and then when he and Kairi opened their eyes, he could see why Olette had wanted this to be a big surprise.

Kairi had carved the same drawing of him that she’d drawn in the Secret Place when they were kids, complete with the paopu fruit she’d added to it years later. It matched perfectly with his pumpkin because he’d carved the drawing he’d made of her with the paopu fruit too. A big smile lit up her face as she saw the two pumpkins side-by-side, and he grinned and kissed her cheek, only for her to kiss him properly on the lips. There was much whooping and hollering from Hayner, Pence, and Olette, much to he and Kairi’s amusement.

“Operation-get-the-lovebirds-back-together is a success!” Hayner crowed, high-fiving Pence.

Sora raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you guys planned this?”

“Maybe,” Olette said with a teasing lilt to her voice, and Hayner and Pence both had triumphant smirks on their faces.

“I can believe you did,” Sora said to Olette, “but these two interrupted Kairi and I so much tonight I was convinced they were trying to keep us apart,” he finished, jabbing his finger at Hayner and Pence.

“Reverse psychology, it works wonders,” Pence said. “We figured it would get you more desperate to talk to each other.”

“I guess it worked then,” Sora said wryly. “Because as great as that hayride was, it was not worth all the interruptions.”

Hayner, Pence, and Olette laughed, and Kairi giggled and nuzzled his cheek. Sora soon joined in with the merriment. He couldn’t hold the scheming against his friends, especially because it had worked. He and Kairi were together again, and while it would take time to mend all the hurt between them and forge a path forward, he knew they would. Tonight was a good start, and he was determined to make this work and so was she.

When their eyes met, he knew something else, too. He loved her and she loved him, and that was more than enough for them to make their own storybook ending and happily-ever-after.

~~~

A/N: Last year I wrote nine kiss prompts for SoKai based on this list, and I wanted to write one more to hit ten, so, this story fits...

11. ...in joy,

30. ...as comfort, and

50. ...out of love.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

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