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#close but others it kind of feels like a punch in the gut! huh! is this what michael mell felt like
villain-enthusiast · 2 months
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The hero coughed blood.
Fucking shit, they thought frantically, hand pressed over the gaping wound in their side. Their new opponent packed a serious punch, more than what the agency had expected when they sent the hero out to stop them. Somehow they’d escaped, but not without the nasty stab to their stomach.
Class two villain my ass. The hero grunted as they stumbled into an alleyway, nearly slamming their shoulder into one of the brick walls. They slipped into damp corner and sat down gingerly, their breathing shallow. Cold sweat broke out on their forehead.
They shook the sputtering communication device on their wrist. Busted. The hero suddenly realized with disturbing clarity that they would die here if they didn’t get help soon, bleeding their guts out on the floor.
Blinding pain shot through their torso, and they closed their eyes, muscles clenching. They couldn’t stand up, not without passing out. And with their internal bleeding, pressure to the wound would be largely ineffective.
They were so totally fucked.
“Hero?”
The hero’s lids snapped open. The cloaked figure before them dipped and swayed, but they forced themselves to concentrate. No, that wasn’t their assaulter, that was—
“Villain,” they rasped.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” The villain’s tone was mocking, but could the hero hear a hint of concern?
The hero attempted a sloppy smirk as they approached. “Oh, y’know, just decided to get stabbed and die today. Regular hero shenanigans.” Shit, their words were slurring.
The villain didn’t respond, crouching down in front of them. Their fingers brushed over the throbbing cut on their cheek, ghosted over the bruise on their jaw—it was funny, the hero noted, how the villain's first instinct was to check their face—before trailing down to the still-bleeding wound at their side. Their hand paused.
The silence was so thick that the hero could hear their wavering heartbeat in their ears.
“Who did this to you.” The villain’s words were quiet. Deadly.
The hero choked on a disbelieving laugh. “Like you care,” they wheezed, but even they could hear the doubt in their own voice. When the villain continued to wait for an answer, they added, "One of your lackeys.” Their eyes fluttered as a wave of fatigue overwhelmed them.
The villain snapped their fingers. "Hey, stay with me." They gently removed the hero's limp hand from their side, examining the gash. They swore under their breath.
"That bad, huh," the hero huffed.
“This looks like [other villain]’s work,” the villain muttered. “Destroying your comms, letting you escape with a fatal wound, making you think you’ve gotten away when really,” their eyes slid up to meet the hero’s detached stare, “you’re on the brink of death.”
“How kind of them.”
The villain shook their head. “Why were you even fighting them? They’re superhero’s responsibility. You’re supposed to be going after me.” They paused, gaze darkening. “And only me.”
The hero shrugged minutely. “Agency assignment.” Their muscles clenched as white hot pain rattled through them again, leaving them weaker than ever. “Can you just kill me already? That’s what you came for, isn’t it?” They titled their head back against the wall and closed their eyes, feeling their body grow more distant by the second. “Just fucking do it.”
They heard the villain move, and they waited for the knife against their throat or the gun at their temple, but instead, gloved hands slid under their back and legs, lifting them up.
What? The hero shifted weakly, but the villain shushed them and bundled them closer to their chest.
“No questions. I’ve got you,” the villain murmured, holding them tightly as they sprinted down the alley, making sure they didn’t jostle their injury. “You can sleep now. I’ve got you.”
And the hero, somehow feeling safe in their enemy’s arms and too tired to wonder why they were being saved, succumbed to the pull of unconsciousness not a second later.
.
part two
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bookishdreamer28 · 4 months
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Tom Blyth is a total babe and has my heart and his character in Billy the kid has me weak on the knees
Btw I'll definitely write more Billy fics so I hope you'll enjoy reading this one ❣
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You felt your body responding to his intense stare again. You found yourself burning with desire for the man with the beautiful ocean eyes across the room, for the 5th time this month. He was an occasional costumer but you never had the chance to have a proper conversation with him because of all these drunken people blocking your way or your boss making you taking orders from other tables. He never once threw a dirty look at you, neither he made you feel uneasy and uncomfortable in any way just like brainless rats did. And you liked that. You liked him.
When you served a costumer his bear, your eyes went immediately on him. He gave a small smile and waved at you. This small interaction increased your heart's rate and you returned the smile with one of your own. You tried to preoccupy yourself by cleaning the counter but all you could think about was him. The man who already had your heart in his hands.
After contemplating for about half an hour on what to do, you picked up the courage and made your way to his table. His eyes never left you. Seeing you approaching him made him nervous. Unable to make a single move.
"Would you like me to bring you something else?" You asked giving him a sweet smile.
"Uh n-no thank you" his hand traveled up to his hair, pushing a few locks out of the way. You suddenly felt your mouth dry. You licked your lips and you caught his eyes following the movement.
"I'm Y/N" you reached your hand out for a shake. He gently grabbed your hand and said
"I'm William but most people call me Billy. The choice is yours sweetheart" he lowered your hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss there. Your cheeks were burning and you were sure that you looked like you had fever.
You were ready to say something but a drunk guy placed his arm around your shoulder. Your body tensed and Billy's eyes darkened.
"Why don't We get this kind of treatment huh?" His breath was stinking liquor and you wanted to punch the shit out of him which you were ready to do so, but Billy caught you. His punch surely broke thos guy's jaw and it sent him straight to the floor. He then picked him up by his colar and slammed him to the wall.
"If you even dare do as much as look in her direction, I will end you, get it? Don't you DARE put your filthy hands on her again" He growled and then threw him on the floor again. The guy didn't had the guts to say anything to Billy. And all the other men in the bar knew that it would be best if the mind their own business instead of get themselves involved in this.
Billy turned to you and gently touched your shoulders.
"Let's get out of here"
"But I can't just le-"
"As long as you're with me no one is going to hurt you. There's no way I'm leaving you here but if you want to stay, I'll stay too" his words warmed your heart.
"Lead the way cowboy" you smirked and grabbed his hand. He smiled widely and walked the to exit. Once you were outside you started laughing at how wonderful it all felt with him. He couldn't help but watch you closely. Your smile, your bright eyes, your hair flowing in the breeze. You were all he's thinking about and now he finally has the chance to be with you. Just the two of you.
You looked at your intertwined fingers and your stomach filled with butterflies again . But then your eyes widened when you realized that you were still holding hands.
Billy noticed your expression and was ready to pull his hand away but you held it tight.
"I'm ok with this...that is as long as you're ok with it too" and for once agaim you felt your face burning.
"I'm more than ok sweetheart" he smiled.
"Oh thank you souch for earlier I didn't expe-"
"I will never let anyone touch you again like this. I know you think that I didn't have to interfere but it made my blood boil seeing in distress" he stopped walking and turned his body to you.
His eyes were so beautiful under the moonlight. The soft touch of his fingertips on your cheek is what shook me out of my thoughts. Your breath quickened.
"I...where is your home exactly? I don't want you to walk on your all alone now" he cleared his throat, moving his hand from your face, looking anywhere else but you.
"Oh we're almost there-...Um actually, I don't want to go home right now" you stopped him from moving.
"Ok that's great then, cause I didn't want you to go either" he said and you stared at each other.
"Great" you whispered and moved closer to him.
"Great" he moved closer too.
His hands cupped your face slowly and his thumbs were caressing your skin softly.
"Can I please, please kiss you? Cause I've been dying to do this for whole month now and I can't wait longer" your legs felt like jelly and you had no idea how you managed to stand still.
You nodded eagerly and closed your eyes the moment he started leaning in. He kissed you tenderly and pulled back to see your reaction, only for you to crash your lips against his passionately. You felt Billy's hand slide into your hair and his other kept your body close to his. The kiss held such intensity and emotion, that made you both breathless once you pulled away.
"I'm at your mercy woman" he whispered against my lips and and I smiled, grabbing his collar to kiss him more
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Thank you for reading 😚 love you all
all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.
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liquorisce · 6 months
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monster
rating: g
ao3
summary: Post Canon. A letter from Armin to Mikasa telling her that he is coming to visit, and Mikasa's response.
...
Dear Mikasa, 
How are you? Sorry, I suppose that is a difficult question to answer, but I think about it often. After everything. Every night when I wake up in a sweat, toes dipped in a pool of blood, I think of how you must be feeling. Do you dream of this too? Of him? In my dreams sometimes he is as we saw him last, big and cruel and with lifeless eyes, sometimes there is a punch to my gut and he shoves me to my knees and hurts me. But other times he is small, we both are— the three of us— and his hand extends to mine, to help me catch up to the both of you. We are running up the hill and it is beautiful, like it was when we were younger. But in the end, he is always dead. That isn’t a dream, though huh. It’s reality. I sound silly I suppose— a bit like Eren, sometimes I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t.
Anyway, I am okay. It’s not all bad. I really wanted to tell you, it felt kind of insane to have you not know. The nights have gotten easier for me, when I wake now I don’t feel like screaming  anymore. Don’t get me wrong: the nightmares do not leave me easily, there is far too much blood on my hands for that. But I don’t feel alone in them anymore. When I wake there is a hand in mine, a warm body next to me, someone who sees these terrors behind closed eyes and understands them. What I’m trying to say— God, it’s embarrassing to admit it, is that Annie and I… Well, you knew already didn’t you? Annie told me that you knew. That you took one look at her and knew her feelings. I kind of envy that, to be honest. I wish I could have looked at her and just known. It would’ve saved a lot of fumbling and stupidity on my part. But anyway, it’s not like we had time for romance then. Even now it feels weird calling it that— I feel guilty. So many people probably never got the time for romance, they were killed. By us. Neither did Eren— well I don’t have to tell you about it. 
When I first knew that I liked her, I was a mess— we knew nothing back then, titans were monsters, so far removed from us, the foreigner, the enemy, the invader. I was in love with a monster and it should’ve repulsed me, but it didn’t. When you looked the other way I went down to the cellars and poured my heart out to her. And then I became a monster and I suppose it all equaled out in the end. But that’s the thing, Mikasa— nobody made me a monster, I always was. At the end of the day, nobody painted the blood on my hands, I dirtied them. It was my fault Eren became the way he did, did you know that? I showed him those books, I made him do what he did and then I couldn’t save him— God, I’m sorry, Annie says I should stop saying things like this, that it’s not my fault, and some days I believe her, but most days I don’t. Today isn’t one of those days. Sorry, it must seem pointless to keep talking about this, but what I mean to say is that it is always on my mind. The human cost of my survival, I mean. I am alive, and safe— and in love, even— and I don’t often feel like I deserve it. On bad days, when I close my eyes Bertholdt is looking at me, into my eyes, into my skull, he can see my every thought. He can see me living the life he was supposed to live, holding the hands of the girl he was supposed to love. But on good days, and it is hard to keep repeating this to myself, I tell myself that I deserve it. Because I need to keep moving forward. Because I sat next to Eren when he knew was about to die and watched him cry because he knew wouldn’t get to live a long life with you, with us. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? We deserve to be happy. I want to be happy, I want you to be happy. I wish I could see you and know you were doing okay. 
In two weeks, I will board a ship— Annie and Jean and Connie and Reiner and Pieck, they are coming too— for Paradis. We will visit Historia. I know you don’t want to be part of this anymore, I know you just want to rest. But I hope I’ll get to see you. We’ll be visiting the headquarters for a week. Please come see me, Mikasa. I miss you.
Love, Armin
...
Armin, 
This is the fourth letter I’m writing to you, all previous attempts are now in the trash. I miss you so much. I wish we could all live in the same town again. I wish I could invite you and Annie for dinner. Yes, I could hear you gushing through your letter, and it makes me happy that you both are happy. But please don’t call yourself a monster, Armin. You were never a monster  in my eyes. Annie, on the other hand… 
… Just kidding. 
You asked me a question and I don’t quite know how to answer it. How am I feeling? I don’t know. On some days I barely know that I’m alive. I built myself a house on the edge of the forest, and when I was building it I had something to do. Something to keep my hands busy. The days would be tiring and the nights sleepless. Armin, this is going to sound very strange to you but after I came here, I felt as if I didn’t know how to be alone. I didn’t know how to sleep alone. I didn’t know how to cook alone, I didn’t know how to walk alone. Well maybe it isn’t strange, because all our lives we have been together. I have never truly been alone before this. But my loneliness is now particularly difficult: it is as if, for each day prior to that day, I had a different life. For four long years, I had Eren. Did he tell you that? That we lived together? That I woke up to him and went to sleep with his arm around my waist? That when I cooked he would stand behind me, or chop the vegetables or go fish, and when I slept before him, he made sure to cover me with blankets? I didn’t know it when I told you I was leaving, but it is the loneliness that feels most disorienting. For so many years, I have never known what it is like for Eren to not be by my side. And even for that brief time, when he left me to go to Marley, I was still reaching for him.  Now I have nowhere to reach, nothing to reach for. The bed is cold, and I need to chop firewood myself, if I want to be warm. Nobody cares if I am cold and tired. I have nobody to care for. 
You talk about good days and bad days: On bad days I am awake but I cannot find the strength to do anything, I feel like I am drowning in my tears. On good days my eyes are closed and they only open in dreams– dreams where Eren is still with me. We go down to the creek to fish together and get tired of waiting so we go for a swim. On cold nights, we sit by the fireplace with a warm blanket and the heat of his body and I convince myself I will never be  cold again. I hear him call my name, and I feel like my being has a purpose, a meaning, and things make sense to me. On other days I feel like I am only half-alive, my body carries itself to the market, it buys food to keep itself alive, my body takes out the right change to pay the woman at the vegetable cart, says hello to the son of the baker who tells me I need to eat more— apparently I look weak, I was never weak before this, I used to be strong.
I don’t really question if I deserve to be happy. I don’t know if I can be. I don’t know if I have it in me to move this body, this soul, without the immense burden of loss. Inside me there is a pit, a black hole, and I don’t know if happiness will survive inside it. But it makes me happy that you are happy. Your letter made me smile. Of course I will visit you. Please keep writing to me, Armin. I cannot wait to see you.
Yours,
Mikasa
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ronearoundblindly · 1 year
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Just a little thought for your sweet Sunday prompt, don’t worry if it’s not the sort of thing you want. Kind, soft old fashioned gentleman Steve looking after the reader when she’s having a particularly bad time of the month. I love that man so much and I adore how you write him.😍
Fair warning: this gets sweet but sooooooooo deep after the feels. I went overboard on the semi-angst because periods and (my) life sucks. Steve's just so magical, that bastard....
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Hour seven of cramping and you contemplate just giving up and heading to bed. You look over to the clock.
20:23
No way. Too early. You can wait one hour more until another dose of painkiller.
Except now you're out of snacks and either have to watch only half a movie or search for a TV show.
There's a knock at the door, and why someone checking on you makes you want to cry is beyond you. You just do want to cry. You don't want to explain WWIII in your uterus; you want ice cream, dammit.
"I bought three kinds," Steve announces, using his foot to close up behind him, arms covered in grocery bags like a pack mule. "Four if you count the sandwiches."
When he finally looks up, he stalls seeing you curled into the couch, covered in thick blankets, a pillow squished harshly to your chest, and tears brimming in your eyes.
His eyes soften. "Hun," he whines, dropping his arms, "you could have texted me."
You shake your head before tucking it into the pillow. "Not gonna bother you," you mumble through fabric.
"That bad, huh?"
Steve doesn't need an answer though. He's speedy in the kitchen while you scroll absently through Netflix. You still have no clue what to watch.
He returns to your side with a bowl: one scoop of every flavor capped with an entire ice cream sandwich...minus one bite.
"Sorry," he winks, "boyfriend tax."
Steve's cute when he's cheeky, and he knows it.
"That's a big bite, mister."
He shrugs, simply adding, "inflation."
Another sharp pang hits you above the hip, one so brutal and deep you hiss. He asks about medicine, if you'd like hot tea or chocolate, and what else he can do. There's nothing. Just another pang before the other even recedes.
Concern falls off his face suddenly, and Steve holds up a finger before hurtling over the back of the couch.
He comes back but sits on the floor with his hand out. "Foot, please," he adds, brandishing a pair of your fuzziest socks.
"One sec," you groan and clutch the bowl tighter. You can't lift your leg until the cramp stops. You watch Steve school his face with patience instead of sadness.
Some months are worse than others, and Steve doesn't like unpredictable things. Even though he's patient. Even though he rolls with the punches. He will never get used to seeing his best girl in pain, and so most of the time, you hide it from him. You've trained yourself to play it off like it's nothing more than a temporary stomach ache, but this one is bad. You cannot play off this month.
You drank as much water as you could handle. You peed every twenty minutes and cleaned up every time as if it would matter. You want to shower every hour, but that would be just as useless. You'll feel gross and bloated no matter what.
You should feel so pampered and loved when Steve gently slips the soft sock over your heel. You should be happy beneath his gorgeous, blue, adoring gaze. You should not start crying into your confection. It's not salted caramel, for christ's sake. Get it together.
Which, of course, you can't do.
You can't stop any of it, and then you're happy you can't stop it because then he might stop. Somehow Steve only becomes more doting as you shovel ice cream in like air. He sneaks another bite of sandwich to make you smile. Somehow smiling makes the tears come faster. He peels away some blankets and the pillow, politely waiting until the spoon clinks against empty china. Somehow he wrestles you into his lap and hugs.
The firm grip he puts you in is soothing like a weighted blanket, tighter than you can wrap against your own gut, and it feels so good. He curls around you as you were curled in the cushions, a universal pressure, a universal peace.
"You want to watch a comedy or a nature documentary?" His voice rumbles against your back.
"Neither."
His chin pokes your cheek with a questioning hum.
"Tell me about your day," you reply, sighing, letting your whole self lean into Steve even though you feel swollen and grumpy.
He squeezes a little firmer around you, waiting to feel more tension drain from you. "Well, Sam complained that I was heavy again."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, he had to lift me ten stories higher between buildings."
You scoff. "My god, how hard can it be?"
"I know, I know," he mutters, "I'm light as a feather. Practically lean."
"Yeah," you finally smile. "Go on. Have another ice cream sandwich, you skinny boy."
His chuckle rattles behind you. "Only if we can share...then I'm thinking a hot bath and more of this--" he cuddles up closer "--if you're game."
"Just a minute longer," you beg in a whisper before adding with more strength, "you still haven't told me about Sam and Bucky's latest tiff."
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saiikavon · 1 year
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(Here’s a short while I recover from my trip to the store. XD Old prompt I was considering before.)
Some guys in the gang liked to brag that they could take a bullet. “It’s just like taking a punch to the gut. If you’re a man, it should be no problem.”
Those guys were full of shit.
From where Jounouchi sits - like a broken doll, blood on his hands, on his shirt, seeping into his pant leg, stickier than the hot asphalt under him - this is nothing like a punch to the gut. He’d known it was coming the moment the other guy pulled the gun, but it knocked the wind out of him anyway. Made his skin feel like stripped leather. It burned and it stung and it sent him reeling so hard the sky turned black for a split second.
He doesn’t know how or when he’d crawled to safety or where the shooter went, nor does he care. Better that the fucker left him to rot. Now he has only himself and the length of his shitty life to contend with. He’s always kind of known it would end like this.
But for the first time in months, Shizuka’s sweet face flashes through his mind, and he knows he doesn’t want to die. Not yet. Not before he sees his sweet baby sister’s face again.
The blood pools, thick as tar. He coughs, and it sounds wet. “Please…not now, not like this, I’ll—I’ll do anything, just please…please…”
“Since you’ve asked so nicely.”
Footsteps click nearby, suddenly so close, even though he hadn’t heard them before. A shiny pair of black shoes halt just inches in front of the mess of Jounouchi’s blood. He cranes his neck up, up past the feet and the tight black pants - he swears he hallucinates for a second, catching on a grin full of sharp teeth in the gaping maw of a creature that shouldn’t exist - then lands above the dark turtleneck to the pale face and the stark, sharp blue eyes.
His head is spinning and his throat is dry, but he asks, “Who are you?”
“You may call me ‘Seto.’ And you should do it soon if you want me to save you.”
“Se…to?” Jounouchi blinks, but the man doesn’t disappear. The man grins, no teeth, but there’s still something otherworldly about it.
“That will do. Now all that’s left is to make a wish.”
“A wish…?” Jounouchi’s tongue feels thick in his mouth. What is this guy even talking about?
“A wish,” Seto replies. “Anything you want. I will serve you until it is fulfilled, and then, I receive your soul in exchange.”
Jounouchi chuckles. Now he knows he’s hallucinating. “My soul? What are you, some kind of demon?”
“I am. But does that truly matter to a dying man?”
“Guess not…” Jounouchi sighs, and it feels like his chest is caving in when he exhales. “A wish for a soul, huh…well…”
He hesitates a beat too long. His eyelids flutter and he thinks he loses consciousness for a second. The demon clicks his tongue in disapproval.
“Quickly, or you’ll bleed out before I can help you.”
Now or never, then. “Okay. I wish—”
***
“Look, can you just stand five feet away or something? You’re creeping people out. You’re creeping me out, hovering over my shoulder all the time.”
A pair of ice blue eyes narrow at Jounouchi, which just creeps him out even more. Nevertheless, Seto - the freaking demon he’d offered his soul to - steps back a few feet.
“You have some nerve,” Seto replies, his voice a hiss, like an angry serpent. “I wouldn’t have to stick around at all if you hadn’t forgotten your wish.”
Yeah, that’s the thing. Jounouchi may have summoned Seto in his final hour, but apparently it was for more than just to save his life. Go figure. But between the pain of the gunshot wound, the blood loss, and the shock of making a literal deal with a devil, Jounouchi’s memory had been wiped clean of the whole thing.
“Yeah, I still don’t get that,” Jounouchi says. “You got the wish, so can’t you just like. Make it happen anyway? What’s the difference in if I remember it or not?”
“I have already explained this. The initial wish binds me to you, but I can’t grant you something that you no longer remember wanting.”
“Didn’t think demons would be such sticklers for the rules…” Jounouchi mutters. He very pointedly turns away from the vivid glare his comment elicits.
“The sooner you remember, the sooner I can leave,” Seto says. “In the meantime, I serve you. That means you’re stuck with me.”
Jounouchi sighs. Just his dumb luck.
“Alright, fine. Just maybe try not to look like…you know. A demon.”
“I’ll endeavor to be less like what I am,” Seto replies dryly. “Anything else, Master?”
Though the demon spits out that last word, it still brings a grin to Jounouchi’s face. Okay, so maybe this isn’t all bad. He could definitely get used to being called that.
Having a demon servant around could be fun.
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iitslaurenn · 8 months
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RED WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE SPOILERS!
I liked the rwrb movie and I understand I shouldn't compare it to the book because they're two different media and, in the end, two different ways to tell a story, but I honestly hated the fact they completely erased any plot that's not directly related to Alex and Henry's relationship (or love relationships in general) because it makes me feel like the other characters in the movie and what they went through aren't as important when they were very important in the book and in showing that Henry and Alex, despite the circumstances, always have people they can rely on. The relationship between Henry and Alex is important, of course, but so are the relationships between them and their families and friends.
Removing June, erasing Bea's addiction storyline, erasing the fact Alex's parents are divorced and Ellen remarried, removing Rafael and his storyline about Richards' predator behaviour and, most importantly (to me, at least), basically erasing or not touching that deeply into Henry's depression after his father's death and how that changed not only him but also his family and his relationship with his mom... it made me not connect with the people in the movie as much.
Because what made me feel so connected with these characters is that they feel like real people. They're flawed and complex and they hurt and make mistakes but they care about each other so deeply that they keep going and they try to make things better. Alex's interactions with both June and Nora reminded me of when I hang out with my friends even though my life is totally different to theirs. His whole family dynamics —divorced parents that still care so much about their children, a long-time family friend that is also someone Alex looks up to and is inspired by and feels so close to that when he "betrays" them it hurts like a punch in the gut, a sister that doesn't want to dedicate her life to her mother's career but stays because she wants to take care of Alex while also making a name by herself— all of that is not shown in the movie and it makes me sad because in the book you can see they had their problems as a family but they managed to get through them and be happy in the non-conventional way (aka not the typical family with happily married parents who love each other forever), while in the movie that just doesn't exist. (And I know it may not be that important because it's not a huge plot in the book but I liked that they showed not all children of divorce are sad about their parents being separated and it was a nice detail that threw me a bit off not seeing while watching the movie).
I understand they have a limited time to tell the story and they want to focus on the two main characters, but when these characters are so attached to the other people in their lives, and their development feeds so much on their relationship with those people and you don't show that, they feel kind of bland and the story feels just like a bunch of scenes of them together without any real development (or a rushed one, at least).
Another thing I missed was their emails. I know they narrated a few of them and they added Henry's iconic, most poetic line and they changed the "history, huh" so that it was said out loud instead of written in one of them, but in the book, their emails were so profound and they showed a lot about their feelings and them as people. They were fun and horny but also very (VERY) poetic, and it made it even worse when you find out they've been published for everyone to see. I just missed having them appear a bit more in the movie because people who haven'tread the book will not completely understand what was said in them and how awful it is for everyone to be able to see them in such a vulnerable state. But that's just a little complain, it's understandable they didn't add them because it's not the best format for a movie.
But I don't want to focus on just the things I didn't like because there were also things I absolutely loved! The comedy was great, there were a lot of good one liners (Zahra you absolute icon), and the chemistry between the actors was very good! The music choices were also great (I can't believe Rigoberta Bandini was there omg?? And the Magic remix in the New Year's party? Slay) And I will never forget Alex saying "And I thought Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz was a mouthful" and Henry answering "He is" with the most bedroom eyes ever like sir (sorry, your royal highness) you're in a public place.
Oh also I absolutely hated Miguel as a character! I know that's probably what they were going for and I applaud them because they accomplished it, he's super creepy and his vibes were so off already from the first time he appeared on my screen. Just ew.
So yeah, I probably forgot things I wanted to say and I might have expressed myself awfully but in summary, as a queer romantic comedy movie I liked it because it was fun and entertaining, but as an adaptation from a book I love I felt like it lacks a lot of the profoundness of the book and I would have liked the secondary characters to be more important.
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asianjeremyheere · 5 years
Text
oh boy really feeling those 1.0 pre-pants song vibes in here today
#dont rb and like. eberythings in the tags and its a lpt so dont. read them if u dont want to.#delete later probably#this is SO specific and im not burning shit and i havent TECHNICALLY been abandoned but. hm.#turns out my friends all keep planning shit without me!! and like i wouldnt be mad if it was certain people because like yeah we're not that#close but others it kind of feels like a punch in the gut! huh! is this what michael mell felt like#qnd the only reason i KNOW is because ive got one (1) friend who like. tells me shit. invites me places. except to the fair apparently#because i asked about that before i got told about the plans#deadass asked yesterday who was going and who wanted to meet up and got 'i think so' and 'i cant' from 2 out of like six people?#and now apparently theres plans basically set in stone not including me? huh funny... wow..... real strange how that happened......#told my mom about it and shes rightfully kind of pissed off and like. of the three who r going that i got 'invited' to go with i expected it#from maybe one of them? but the others? feels. shitty.#and like i love my friends. i really do. most of them at least. but like. ig there was a reason that i only ever did stuff with#two of them and i thought it was just bc everyone else was still in class when we finished our exams and had free time#but like maybe its because theyre the only ones who invite me to stuff! except like i think one of them also doesnt get invited to things so#hashtag solidarity i guess?? except i tjink shes going to the fair with friends from her old school and my other go-do-stuff-with friend is#still on vacation halfway across the world so im. a little stuck#and like i really really appreciate that my best friend is TRYING to include me in stuff. shes trying and she tells me about things and she#initiates plans to hang out and i really am grateful for that because she used to be the only person i ever hung out with outside of school#up until literally like. december this year. but like i worry sometimes that i rely too much on her? always thought of her as like. the#michael/christine to my jeremy and maybe its the other way around because i get. weirdly bitter when she makes plans without me??? but also#i know a lot of it is like. jealousy of one specific person because i dont like her and shes always squeezing herself into conversations and#making me feel pushed aside and thats part of it and i know thats like. dumb. but sometimes i just want to hang out with my best friend#without feeling sidelined and shes got so many friends that its nearly impossible to do unless ive got someone else im close to#nearby which again ever since last year i HAVE and im getting closer to other people but both of those people r not involved in these#plans yo go to the fair and its so DUMB because its just a fair its nbd except like. its an annual thing and a big deal in our tiny ass town#and the past few years my best friend just hasnt. gone even thoufh i deadass always invite her and now she IS going and i. wasnt invited#until i asked if she wanted to meet up?#anyway im. feeling some shit tonight but alsp kinda hollow which is nice! /sarcasm
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reveltica · 2 years
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his regrets and lost time
genre: angst (a bit of fluff too i guess)
characters: Zhongli, You, and Childe ( and maybe Damien from my Childe's series)
warnings: just some light cursing.
《 part ii
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Zhongli was left stunned in Liuli Pavillion after you showed your anger towards him. And sure enough, that won't be the last of them. He watched you storm off, Childe looking for you when he returned, and immediately set off to look for you outside.
Again, he doesn't know how you two became friends without him knowing. Zhongli has been a long time associate of the Fatui and is fairly close with Childe. He would surely know how you two go acquainted. As soon as you left, Childe a second later, Zhongli decided to leave as well. Thinking that Childe would be kind enough to give him answers, he decided to head to the Northland Bank and wait for Childe there.
Zhongli was at the bottom of the stairs going up the bank when he looked up and caught sight of you two...fairly close to each other. He was quiet, not much emotion shown on his calm face but his mind was reeling. It was strange for him to see you with someone else, especially since you were always with him before and today was the first time you two met again after your break up.
He didn't bother with that unfamiliar feeling and simply walked up the stairs, hearing the door of the bank shut. He was about to open the door wide when he heard you....talk about him.
"I don't like him. I don't like him at all. In fact, I hate him."
Childe looked at you and cocked his head to the side. "Why not? What's not to like about Mr. Zhongli?"
You groaned and clasped your hands together. "Alright, I should probably tell you my history with that old man. He probably never even have told you about me when you were here a few months back."
"If you're ready to share, I'm here to listen." Childe gently urged you. You breathed in and out, ready to spill your guts and maybe a few tears. You told him about how Zhongli became unfaitjful to you throughout your relationship. How he would make small comments about his past partner and would often times subtly compare you to Guizhong.
How you would even dare to change yourself and appearance just to fit his standards. And how he didn't even feel an ounce of regret or remorse of how he treated you.
All the while you were rambling, Childe's expression went dark. For he knew exactly what this was. For he had experienced the same. For he had cheated on his past lover and suffered greatly afterwards, even if they reconciled.
"He cheated, huh?"
"Yes! Ugh...I swear. Argh!" you just couldn't even comprehend your anger. "But you should also need to talk to him sooner." Childe added and you were left in shock. Didn't he just heard your rambling?! What did he not understand?
"What are you going on about?! I'm not gonna go out there and talk to him. I can't stand hi—"
"I didn't mean it like that. You can always scream and say all the nasty things you've always wanted to say to him. Punch him once or twice even, if that'll help you. A little anger talking might help you move on." Childe said, patting a reassuring hand on your head, and you calmed down.
His argument has a good point. At least all of your bottled up emotions would be let out. Negative or not, it should be let out and be heard or else it'll eat you up inside. You sighed and chewed the inside of your cheek. "Alright, fine. But not now, I am too bothered."
"Sure thing. Run along now, I still have work for the afternoon. Same place later? Don't be late now."
"Pfff, of course I won't. When have I ever been late?"
"Uh..just earlier?" he teased with a quirked eyebrow. "Oh yeah, right." you've exit the building, leaving Childe perplexed. He never would've thought that his good friend Zhongli could ever do such a thing. Still, there's a lot to not know about him, considering he was an ex-Archon and thousands of years old adeptus.
It's not hisplace to poke his nose into, but he sure hopes he could at least hear about this from the man himself. Zhongli, however, stepped aside from the doorway to let you out.
Of course, you hate him. Loathed him for what he had done. He never knew how much damage he had caused. Its getting harder to face you now and talk things out. Usually, he wouldn't care as much of what his acquaintances or close friends think of him. For time will only pass and make those memories fade from their minds. But with you, he's having a hard time.
——
Zhongli asked Childe if he could assist him on befriending you, using the lie that you had conjured up yesterday at the pavilion.
Childe, who had learnt everything from you, was quite reluctant. He doesn't want to let Zhongli know that he knew about your history with the ex-Archon. In fact, Childe doesn't think its right for him to meddle too, but as a friend of you both, he'd also want you and Zhongli to make amends and move on, especially when he could see that you're still somehow stuck in the past.
So Childe just lets Zhongli know the basics of you. What you like and don't like, when's your birthday, your age, your favorite food, color, you know the general stuff. Zhongli thought that these informations were quite mediocre and wouldn't satisfy his questions. Childe frowned and shrugged, saying that he should find the rest of the answers himself, he is a good listener after all. In time, Zhongli learnt about what you really liked and who you really are. A headstrong person with a lot of dedication and determination to achieve one's ambition. A perfect candidate to be given a Geo Vision, honestly.
He learnt that you wouldn't take any bullshit from others and would fight them if the situation calls for it. He saw you fight with Childe in mock battles, you were almost rivaling him in strength. You were loud on your beliefs and opinion. Insights and intellect oozing out of you. You would also consider others thoughts about a matter and negotiate to get a result that would satisfy and benefit you and the opposing party.
You were different. So different.
He wasn't used to this side of yours. Only, he never did met this side at all. He only knew of the "quiet, elegant, and peaceful" (Name) that he had dated a few months prior.
And he realized that, he never even gave you a chance to be who you are for him. With him.
He was so hung up on the idea of a perfect lover. Who could resemble Guizhong in every way. She was, indeed, perfect for him. But when he is starting to "meet" the real you, he's starting to waver. He wants to know more of you and be with you more. Until slowly, without him knowing, he wants to be part of your life again.
——
Childe would often let Zhongli tag along with your small adventures into the wilderness of Liyue. At first you were reluctant and were almost screaming at Childe to say no. But with him there by your side, you honestly don't mind the extra company Zhongli provides.
Over time, Zhongli tries to strike up conversations with you along the way. You would give half-hearted answers or short, vague ones instead.
Now, Zhongli is a patient man and he could spend a thousand years to earn your trust again. But seeing how close you and Childe were, he couldn't help but feel an unbearable ache within his chest. He couldn't help but think that there must be something already going on between you too.
He notices how Childe would act ahead of time whether its getting something you'd like to eat or drink, or finish a thought you voiced out. You two were loud and proud and chaotic, but the other would sometimes be the anchor to ground and calm the other one down.
In other words, you two were perfect for each other. And Zhongli felt so out of place even though you and Childe were making him feel included. Yes, you're starting to warm up to him, taking Childe's advice in mind, you would talk to him when you feel like you're ready.
——
One day, the three of you were strolling throught the busy streets of Liyue, and just in time for the Lantern Rite festival! There were a lot of stalls that sell food, lanterns, fireworks, and other stuff you would find in a festival stall.
Childe had led you and Zhongli to a shop that sells jewelries with intricate designs embedded with beautiful gems. This piqued Zhonglis attention, for he wants to gift you something. You three looked through the shop until Childe scurried towards the counter where Zhiqiao was. Childe, whisperng something to the young lady, making her giggle and nod at something he had said.
You narrowed your eyes a bit and looked down at the beautiful hair pin in hand. Somehow, that exchange irked you. Hurt you maybe, made your vision go all wavy and blurry. Your mind immediately going to an area where vouces are telling you that men really preferred elegant and mature people. You chewed on your bottom lip, gripping the poor hair pin.
You were pulled out of your trance when a gentle hand touched your shoulder. It was Zhongli.
"Are you feeling alright (Name)?" he asked softly. You looked up at his dazzling golden eyes, the very same eyes you fell in love with before. You sighed and shook your head, looking back down at the jewelries in display. "Oh, it's nothing. I'm alright." you replied.
Zhongli nodded slowly, feeling as if it wasn't enough. "If there is anything that troubles you, you could always count on me—" he stopped when he saw you just staring at him with half lidded eyes. It was like telling him that you don't even take him seriously.
But you smiled and huffed out. "Of course, thanks Zhongli, I'll keep that in mind."
It was soft yet the smile didn't reach your eyes, but he could feel the genuinity in it. Its small, yet it had a large impact in him. You may not show it, but you do appreciate his concern and is very hapoy with him lending his help. Although a bitter side of you wished that he showed this much kindness when you two were still dating.
"(Name)! Would you come here over for a second?" Childe called out, making you and Zhongli turn your heads towards him.
"Oh, what's the matter?" you asked, now standing beside him. Zhiqiao—the young lady behind the counter— had procured a box of special design. Of which it seemed to be crafted by Snezhnayan standards. You were astonished when she handed it over to you. "Master Childe had commissioned us to make these for you. Luckily I have a partner who is very famliar of Snezhnayan designs."
Hearing her explanation, Childe nudged you by the arm. "Come on, open it."
You nodded slowly, still confused and surprised at the arrangement. Is it a gift for you? Obviously but, what did you do to have this privilege?
Your hands then skimmed through the surface, the glossy mahogany wood is smooth to the touch. Then you opened it, and all you could is are sparkles. In front of you was a brooch in a shape of what seems to be a flower. The casing were gold and the gems used were of the color blue that when light reflects, it would turn to violet.
Your eyes widened with such admiration of how beautiful the brooch was. The flower was very beautiful yet unfamiliar, maybe a Snezhnayan flower you've never heard of.
"Oh Childe, it's very beautiful. It really is and I'm honestly at a loss for words. For once." you joked, making the people around you chuckle at your remark.
"But, this flower. I haven't seen it before."
Childe inhaled a large intake of air and exhaled it in a short breath. He knew of this flower oh so well. He knew it from when it was discovered and shown to the public. He knew how popular this flower became back home. For he knew oh so well who found this wonderful specimen.
His best friend. And their lover, Damien.
Remembering the origin of this flower and how it came to be was bittersweet, that had now turned into a very happy one. He learnt a lot during those times. Felt a lot of emotions and let go of certain things in a good way. Just remembering this brought a soft smile to his face.
His gloved hands slowly reached for the accessory and admired its beauty. "I say, Mr. Krosl did a magnificent job on this piece. Makes me want to commission in this shop again in the future." he smirked playfully, directing it towards the oblivious you.
"This is a flower that could only live through the cold. My best friend discovered it along with another person when they were exploring the Snezhnayan Alps. And they named it Irelia."
You watched as Childe explained to you and Zhongli about the origins of this flower. The two were talking, Zhongli asking questions while Childe answer. All you could think about was how Childe looked at the pin fondly, as if remembering a distant memory. A bittersweet look in his eyes tells you a lot, of how you also looked at certain things that would remind you of your past love with Zhongli.
Could Childe also had a past lover and still couldn't get over them? Best friend....could it be them? When he mentioned them, he seemed to deflate. These were the thoughts running through your head.
You were always a keen observer. Its handy during these times but would also plant numerous questions in your mind.
Zhongli in the other hand was very fascinated at the flower. Never in his thousands of years roaming through Teyvat and living a number of lifetimes has he ever seen such a beautiful flora.
"What did they intend for the meaning behind this flower?" Zhongli asked, making Childe fluster for a bit, not really expecting for him to ask. He really intended for only you to know, but with his curious friend over here who is eager to know, who was he to turn him down?
"First love."
Everyone, most especially you, were struck with surprise at his answer (minus Zhiqiao, for she was very giddy at the scene taking place). Your mind was running beyond through normal speeds of thinking and overthinking. What does he mean?! Wh-what?! First love????
Zhongli, however, stood frozen. As if his feet turned to literal rocks that had grounded him to the floor. What....does he mean by first love? Is this his confession to (Name)?
Luckily, Childe composed himself and quickly added "Well, at least that's what my friend told me the meaning was. I only made Miss Zhiqiao and Mr. Krosl make this pin for (Name) because I thought it would be neat to gift them something my very own best friend discovered."
Yes, smooth Childe.
You blinked and later on giggled at his response, making Childe feel light inside, Zhongli sighing in relief in secret. Nevertheless, you loved his gift and appreciated the thought of him gifting you something precious to him.
"Would you look at that, I gave you a pin from Liyue and you gave me a brooch from your home country. It really is lovely, thank you Childe." you said, while putting it on your shirt. You smiled at him happily, feeling your own cheeks burn in delight.
It definitely looked good on you.
Childe smiled back, adoring how you looked. That is until he remembered of one person who was with them this whole time.
Zhongli!
"Oh shoot! I'm sorry Mr. Zhongli, I forgot to make one for you too. Ah! how about you pick something from the store and I'll pay for it. How's that deal?" Childe said, trying not to feel guilty.
Zhongli shook his head and just smiled at his friend. "Oh, it's quite alright. Thank you for the offer Childe." and with this, Childe breathed out in relief. "So! Mr. Zhongli, what would you like to buy? A brooch? A pin? Or maybe a necklace or a pair of earrings for a special woman, ehhh?" he teased.
"That's not quite necessary Childe, a brooch would just suffi—"
"Oh, here. I found the perfect one." you suddenly spoke up, making the two men look at your way.
You held up a hair pin. Its metal in the color gold with a glaze lily on the top as its primary design. It was very beautiful and elegant looking, you thought that this must be quite a popular item in this shop and among the ladies.
"This is perfect for him. A glaze lily hair pin. I'm sure he could gift this to someone he adores as well. It's beautiful, elegant yet simple. Besides, this is his favorite flower." you said without missing a beat.
Childe perked up at what you said, definitely a perfect sudden gift for his good friend. However, Zhongli felt like his stomach dropped. Yes, glaze lilies were important to him and is definitely a precious flower to him.
It was Guizhongs symbol.
One, he definitely worshipped and praised all day, everyday in your relationship. He made you wear clothes that resembles its colors, like Guizhongs. He made you wear it on your hair as well, like Guizhong.
He couldn't help but feel rather hurt that you would suggest that for him as a gift with such a monotonous voice and cold eyes directed towards him. Should he be happy? For you know his tastes? Should be happy from the adjectives you used to describe it along with him?
Normally, he should. But now, he is sure it would only remind him of how much he had hurt you before. "Here you are Mr. Zhongli, our gift to you." Childe said with a smile, handing the rectangular case that boxed the pin inside.
"Yes, please take it. I hope you like it." it was your turn to speak.
Zhongli looked at Childe and back at you, his vision lingered on yours. He felt horrible every passing moment he's in that store, all he wants is to reject the hair pin and pick something else. Maybe something that closely resemble to yours or your favorite flower. Childe noticed Zhongli wavering, so he nudged his hand to get his attention, making the man jump in surprise.
"Won't you take it? (Name) especially picked it up for you." he asked innocently. Zhongli looked back at you. You were just staring at him, and not saying anything at all. In defeat he just sighed and took the gift, putting on a practiced smile. "Thank you (Name), Childe. I would treasure this gift."
"Nice, well—" fireworks interrupted Childes sentence, and you immediately ran outside. "Ah! theres a fireworks demonstration by the pier, lets go check it out!"
"Alright, coming! Come on Zhongli, wouldn't want to miss the fireworks." Childe hyped up, clearly excited for the fireworks, it is his first Lantern Rite after all. "It isn't the day for the main event yet, you'll see more small firework demonstrations in the following days."
"Oh, so what? It would still be exciting to see one, even if its small."
"Hurry up you two! it's almost over!" you bellowed outside.
"Uh, you two go on ahead. I still want to look at the displays here." Zhongli said, trying to excuse himself because at first, he felt as if he was interrupting something between you two. "Well, if you say so. Just look for us at the pier if you're done here. Oh and if you do want to buy something else, just put it under my tab."
"Yes, of course."
With a heavy heart, he watched you and Childe run, hand in hand, towards the pier. "Ahh, those two are quite something." he heard Zhiqiao speak, basically cooing.
——
Zhongli trodded through the shop slowly, looking at difderent displays of jewelry, while trying to tune out what Zhiqiao said and what happened earlier. He should've seen this one coming, of course you would still be bitter of the last, what was he thinking?! That he thought that everything between you two is good and he could try and wriggle his way back into your life?
"Hello again Mr. Zhongli, have you seen something that might interest you?"
"Yes, I'd like to purchase this."
Zhiqiao looked at the item and smiled at him. "I'll pack it right away. Would you like me to put under Master Childes tab?"
"Ah yes, if you please." he replied curtly. Zhiqiao got into work and wrapped tge item delicately on its own box. She wrote a receipt and gave it to Zhongli, together wth the box he purchased.
"One purple hyacinth necklace for Zhongli. Thank you for shopping."
last part 》
——
a/n: •Damien is a character from mu previous Childe fic.
• Zhiqiao and Mr. Krosl are characters from Yanfei's story quest.
tagging: @threepointseven
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kuroopaisen · 3 years
Text
takes one to know one || fushiguro megumi
➵ megumi just wants to buy some flowers from the nice stall attendant he definitely doesn’t have a crush on in peace. gojou has other plans.  
wc: 2.4k
warnings: gn!reader, incoherent chaos
a/n: gracie dearest this one’s for you :( you are so sweet and so lovely to me and i’m so, so glad we met in this hellscape (i would personally like to thank psycho-pass for existing) i hope i did your boy well! 
By the time he arrives at Jujutsu Tech, Megumi knows the flowers are a mistake.
“For me?” Gojou gasps, hands clasped and mouth agape in perhaps his most punchable smile. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”
Megumi’s fist tightens around the handle of his bouquet. Today, it’s lilacs, irises and white lilies. It’s also much bigger than usual – too big to inconspicuously leave on someone’s fence or place in the school gardens.
“You can have them if you want,” he murmurs. What else is he supposed to do with them?
The delight on Gojou’s face collapses into a precarious mix of genuine confusion and insatiable curiosity. “Hah? They’re not for anyone?”
“No,” Megumi says. And if they were, I wouldn’t tell you. Although he doesn’t say that last part. Gojou would perceive it as a challenge, and the less he knew about Megumi’s private life, the better.
“So…” A grin splits Gojou’s face. “The person you bought them from must be special, then.” 
Megumi freezes for just a second. But he knows a second is enough for Gojou to glean all the information he needs.  
“Ah,” Gojou hums. “I see.”
“No, you don’t,” Megumi mumbles, well-aware of the heat rising in his cheeks.
“But why would you go out of your way to buy a bouquet of flowers, hm?” Gojou grins, shit-eating grin back on his face. “They don’t hand these out for free, you know.”
Megumi’s grip is so firm he’s scared he’ll crush the stems.
Although, he still doesn’t know what he’s going to do with them. It doesn’t feel right to throw them out – not when you’d spent time putting it together – but he wasn’t about to revamp his room with a distinctly floral accent.
Is it against social protocol to give the flowers back to you? Not now, of course, but maybe on his evening walk… or tomorrow morning…
He still doesn’t know why he didn’t just walk past you that first day.
But something about the way you were gazing out into the street, eyes wide and hopeful as you watched people ignore you on their daily commute… something about that drew him in.
And once he’d bought something from you once – just a small flower, one he didn’t know the name of, but seemed appropriate behind a cute girl’s ear – he couldn’t very well start ignoring you.
Not when your smile is so bright, your eyes sparkling with gratitude whenever he takes whatever floral arrangement you’ve lovingly bundled together out of your hands.
But now he’s paying the price – in more ways than one.
✧ ✧ ✧
Your flower stall is just a few feet away from one of the trendiest cafes in this area of Tokyo, and whoever oversees your little operation is obviously trying to capitalise on that. Setting up so early must be an attempt to catch the rush of bleary-eyed corporate workers craving their necessary morning coffee.
What use an office worker has for flowers, Megumi doesn’t know. But he has a feeling that you’d probably say something along the lines of “it’ll help brighten the place up.”
As usual, you’re waiting there patiently, eyes hopefully scanning the streets for any potential customers. Your face positively lights up when you finally catch sight of him – something that still makes Megumi nearly trip over his own feet.
“Good morning!” You call out, waving to him.
Megumi raises a hand in response, shuffling towards you with all the embarrassment of a high schooler on their way to their first date.
���Can I interest you in a floral arrangement on this fine Saturday morning?” You grin, eyes twinkling as you make your marketing pitch.
“Sure,” Megumi sighs, scanning the vast array of flowers currently on display. He’s getting better at picking them out, but he still can’t name any of them on sight.
You wait patiently, hands folded on the counter. If you think he’s an idiot, you keep it to yourself.
“Those ones,” he says, pointing at a group of blue heart-shaped flowers.
“The morning glories?” You ask reflexively, reaching over to pluck a bunch out of their display.
“Yeah,” Megumi shrugs. He has no idea what a morning glory is. The term sounds like something Gojou and Yuji would snicker at.
“They’re gorgeous,” you smile, taking a moment to admire them.
“Yeah,” Megumi says again.
Flowers aren’t really his thing; God help him if he was ever asked what his favourite kind was. But there’s no point in saying any of that – not when he’s already spent an embarrassing amount of money at this one stall.
“You’re keeping the business afloat, you know,” you giggle, as if reading his mind.
Megumi blinks at you. “Really?”
“Mhm,” you nod. “It wouldn’t be amiss to say you’re our most important patron.” You beam at him, same sparkle in your eyes as always.
He’d be furious, if you weren’t so nice.
How is he supposed to focus when you’re looking at him like that? How’s he supposed to ask who ‘we’ is? A business partner? A partner partner?
But you look so young. You can’t possibly be running a business. But you might have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or both. Or a partner of an otherwise non-binary gender.
Too many questions, no social capacity to ask them.
“So,” Megumi begins, his voice calm and composed as ever. His mind, however, is scrambling around like a fast-food joint at rush hour, trying to string together a sentence that’s not only coherent but also fascinating.
“How old are you?”
Whoops.
It’s the forbidden question. Or, at least, that’s what people always say. People, in this case, is Gojou. It usually is.
You seem unbothered. “I turn seventeen this year.”
Was it only a forbidden question for people who’re older? But in that case, surely knowing someone’s age was pertinent for the whole ‘respect’ thing. Maybe Gojou just didn’t think he should ever ask anyone’s age because then he’s not beholden to honorifics.
But Megumi can’t imagine him using them properly anyway.
That’s not the point. The point is that you’re the same age as him. You weren’t somehow twenty-seven with a baby face.
“Oh,” Megumi nods. “Me too.”
The smile you give him is almost unbearable. How is it even more of a smile than your usual smile? That doesn’t make any sense.
There’s a certain excitement bubbling in his gut that he doesn’t recognise or like.
Wait, if you’re his age, then…
“Do you not go to school on Saturdays?” He asks.
Is this conversation too dry? He’s not sure. He doesn’t usually make an effort at this sort of thing.
“My school doesn’t have classes on Saturday mornings,” you smile, meticulously wrapping brown paper around the stems of a set of particularly bright morning glories. You always do it so delicately; where on earth do you find the patience?
There’s something… graceful, about how you go about it. Sure, it’s your job, but Megumi still enjoys watching you work because—
“Hello there!”
Megumi knows that voice.
Oh no.
“Hello!” You fold your hands in front of you and give your new customer a bow. But your usual smile has been replaced with an expression of middling confusion as you look him up and down.
Megumi doesn’t need to turn around to know who’s standing behind him.
“Who’d’ve thought there’d be so many kinds of flowers in bloom, huh?” Gojou grins, slinging a lanky arm around Megumi’s shoulders.
Megumi glances to the side.
A pair of startingly blue eyes peek at him from behind black shades.
“What are you doing here?” He asks through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I thought I’d just come out for a morning stroll,” Gojou sighs, gesturing to the sky. “Don’t you think it’s gorgeous?”
Megumi’s ready to commit a murder.
“And look at all these flowers!” Gojou exclaims, bending down to peer at some asters closely. “Did you grow them all yourself?”
“Of course not,” you laugh. “I just sell them.”
Jealous maybe isn’t the right word. But there is a twisting in Megumi’s gut upon the realisation that within minutes of meeting you, Gojou had made you laugh. Megumi, on the other hand, was yet to do that.
“Well, either way, my student is a big fan,” Gojou smirks, shaking Megumi’s shoulder. Megumi’s soul is currently leaving his body.
“I was just telling him that he’s our most valued customer,” you smile, tilting your head at the pair of them.
“Ah, is that so?” Gojou grins. It’s amazing, really, how he manages to capture all the terror of the apocalypse in one smile. “I never really took him as a flower guy.”
“Everyone’s a flower guy, sir,” you tsk, shaking your head. “Even you.”
Gojou places an affronted hand on his chest. “So quick to make assumptions!”
“Not at all,” you smile. “You’d be surprised by what our customer base looks like.”
“You don’t say,” Gojou grins, turning to Megumi.
Megumi considers the consequences of punching Gojou right in the nether regions. He doubts he’d be punished for it by the higher ups; if anything, he’ll probably be rewarded. Maybe even pushed up a grade for his invaluable service.
“Fushiguro!”
Oh no.
Megumi’s eyes widen ever so slightly. His head whips round to Gojou. His teacher is already looking straight at him.
“Ah,” Gojou grins. “I told Yuji to meet me here this morning.” The glint in his eyes strikes terror right through Megumi’s departing soul.
Sure enough, Itadori barrels his way towards them, damn near colliding against Megumi with a ‘thump’.
Megumi can do something but stare into the abyss, hoping, wishing, praying this is just a nightmare.
Unfortunately, it’s not.
You give the newest addition to this strange little posse a customary bow. “Good morning!”
Itadori beams at you, his entire face lighting up. “Good morning!”
A strange panic starts to rise from Megumi’s gut. If he thought about it, you and Itadori would get along well. Too well.
Thoughts of you and Itadori walking hand in hand down the street as you laugh, Itadori offering you his coat on a clod morning as you blush, Itadori walking you home, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully as you lean towards him and –
Megumi blinks the thoughts away. What is wrong with him today?
You and Itadori have just met. And what was it to Megumi anyway? It’s not like he—
“Megumi?” Itadori tilts his head at him.
Megumi stares back blankly. “Hm?”
“I wanted to know how you found this place,” Itadori asks, voice bright but with the uncertain quality inherent to repeating oneself.
“Oh,” Megumi murmurs. “Well, I…”
In truth, he doesn’t remember. He just saw you one morning and decided to approach. He still doesn’t know why. But he doesn’t regret it.
“I roped him in with my charm,” you piqued up, picking up the lull in conversation.
Try as he might, Megumi just can’t concentrate. Itadori’s pressed against him, Gojou’s still got his arm slung around his shoulder, and—
“Ah, Nobara’s here!” Gojou beams, waving a hand over his head.
“What are you doing here of all places?” Nobara frowns, raising an eyebrow at Megumi. “I wouldn’t have taken this as your sort of scene.”
If there’s a hell, Megumi’s sure it’s this.
Conversation is bubbling around him but none of it is registering in his mind, he can see Nobara’s dissatisfied look as she takes in the situation at hand but he doesn’t have the energy to retort, Gojou is playing with the petals of one of the display flowers but Megumi knows he’s not going to buy it and—
“Hey, Megumi?”
He snaps back to reality at the sound of your voice, gentle and concerned.
“Are you alright?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. It’s as if you’re completely ignoring the rabble, as if you see him and only him.
Next to him Gojou, Yuji and Nobara watch with rapt attention.
“Yeah,” he lies. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
You frown at you look at him. Something flashes in your eyes and you suddenly duck beneath your countertop.
Megumi and his gaggle of fools blink in surprise.
In a moment you hop back up, something purple bundled up in your hands. “Here,” you smile, handing it out to him, “this is supposed to help you sleep.”
One whiff and he knows it’s lavender.
“How much?” Megumi asks.
You shake your head. “Oh, no. It’s on me.”
Megumi’s heart flutters as you smile. Despite the chaos going on around him, despite the fact that he knows he’s going to be mocked for this for weeks to come, he’s grateful.
Somehow.
“Sorry about this…” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.
“It’s fine,” you giggle, shaking your head.
Megumi feels Gojou chuckle quietly, his chest rattling. Itadori is unusually quiet and Nobara seems moments away from a laughing fit.
“I should go,” Megumi says quickly and suddenly. He doesn’t give you time to respond, zipping down the street as fast as his feet can carry him. He needs a shower and then a run and then he needs to beat a training dummy up and then—
“Wait, Megumi!”
He freezes in his tracks. That’s… your voice.
And around his wrist is… is…
He turns to look at you over his shoulder, eyes darting for where you hand wraps around his wrist. Why is his heart racing so absurdly fast? Why does it feel like his head’s about to explode? You’re just holding his wrist. You’re not even touching his skin. Not that it matters—
“Will I see you tomorrow?” You ask, not quite able to meet his gaze.
It brings him back to the moment.
“Of course,” Megumi answers reflexively.
You finally lift your eyes up. They seem to be sparkling. “I look forward to it.”
Before he even has time to process it you’ve let him go and trotted back to your stall, tending to your flowers as if nothing’d happened.
This has been too much embarrassment for one day. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on and he’s not sure he wants to know. But man, he needs at least several hours alone to process everything.
As Megumi shuffles away, Gojou bounds after him, still grinning like a fool.
“So, Megumi’s got himself a—”
Megumi elbows him in the stomach before Gojou even has a chance to finish his sentence.
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lemons3ason · 3 years
Text
How the Vinsmoke Brothers React to Calling Out The Safe Word During Sex (Headcannons)
Warning: NSFW, dacryphilia, degradation, bdsm, size kink, overstimulation, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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Ichiji Vinsmoke
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-Genuinely this man has a soft spot for you, seeing the dewy teardrops sitting on your pretty lashes as you cry and beg him to stop rearranging your guts makes him so weak.
-Cold, ruthless, brutal, a monster, everything he was to others was just never a side you’d see of him, you made him human all because he loved you so dearly.
-“Come on beautiful just take it, I know you can you always do!”, he’ll growl glaring down at you with cold onyx hues.
-He has you in a mating press, his thick cock stretching your tiny pussy to the brink beneath him as he calls you his ‘tiny little pig slut’.
-It’s not until you call out his safe word that he realizes just how seriously he’s hurting you, “S-Sora!”, you had cried out making him stop everything in his tracks.
-The name alone is enough to make him go soft inside of you, he lets go of your thighs finally noticing the bruising from his rough grip on them and watched as you pulled yourself off of him and curled into a shaking ball on the bed.
-He’s unsure of what to say as you pant desperately for breath, something about his actions and word seemed different today and it scared you.
-The name Sora, his mother’s name, was a reminder for him to be kind and caring so that’s just what he did.
-He was forward and straight to the point, putting his boxers back on and pulling you by your arm until you sat up straight so he could throw one of his shirts over your naked form.
-“May I hold you?”, he’ll ask softly waiting for your response and once you nod yes he’ll lay down next to you pull you onto his chest and smother your face in kisses until you stop shaking.
-Once you’re comfortable enough he’ll adjust himself so he’s at your thighs and gently kisses the bruises he’s left on your skin, once you’re calling him up he’s pulling you back onto his chest and gently holding you and watches as you doze off in his warm arms.
-He’ll whisper soft compliments and praise to you gently rubbing circles against your back to keep you at ease while you sleep.
-The next morning you wake up horny but he’s sure to be much more careful with how he handles you, with you on your stomach and hips high in the air he enjoys your soft squeals as he fucks you from behind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Niji Vinsmoke
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-This man ties you up, your arms are tied behind your back allowing him to keep you up by yanking on the rope around your wrist, and your calves touch your thighs since he has them tied up allowing him full access to your pussy even if you tried to escape.
-The most brutal of all the brothers when it comes to sex, if you are very sensitive this is not the man you want to be with.
-Pounds brutally at your pussy, burying himself as deep as he can go and then some just to hear you scream, if he feels that you’re too dry he’ll let all that spit that’s accumulated in his mouth to dribble off the tip of his tongue to your hole before returning to thrusting your pussy into oblivion.
-You can normally handle it, usually your masochistic side is in pure pleasure from how he handles you but for some reason it just felt different today.
-“Hmm what’s the matter slut? Not feeling it today? You’re running dry fast today, need some more pain huh my little bitch?”, Niji growls grabbing a fist full of your (h/c) hair that sends your body into shock.
-You’re easily thrown into pure fear as memories as your days as a mistreated slave come flooding back, he had forgotten it for a brief moment but released your locks as soon as you screamed out, “Heartless!”, at the top of your lungs.
-Your devil fruit powers activated blades erupting from your skin, one scratching Niji’s cheek, and the others cutting your skin but helping you cut yourself free.
-You’ll pull away from him quickly, sitting as far from him as you can while you form yourself into a ball.
-Niji sucks at comforting people, even you. So he’ll leave and order Cosette to your room to calm you down while sitting outside your bedroom door in hopes that he’ll be let back in.
-Once you’ve fallen silent and Cosette emerges with an empty tray of plates and cups that she had provided food and beverages for you with she leaves without a word. The door is left open meaning that you are waiting for him.
-He’s silent, a obvious scowl etched over his face as he sees you asleep in fetal position on your side of the bed.
-His erection is long gone since the beginning of the incident, he won’t ask for sex for a while only if you are needy for some relief but he’ll let you do everything just to make sure you’re comfortable.
-Lays close enough to you to wrap an arm over your around balled form, buries his nose into your hair to enjoy your shampoo that he loves so much. He’s noticed that this relaxes you, eventually you unfold yourself throughout the night and you wake up with him pressed against your back and his arm around your waist.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sanji Vinsmoke
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-Usually...USUALLY...this man treats your body like a temple. Kisses every inch of it and praises your whole figure especially the places you’re insecure about but after a fight with Zoro he was furious and took it out on you.
-Your back is pressed against the bathroom wall of the ship, tears falling from your hazy eyes as Sanji fucks the fourth orgasm out of you.
-Your tears and whines just egging him on to fuck you more. Your fists weakly punch and push at his chiseled chest to get him off of you but he’s not listening.
-“S-S-Sanji! St-op please!”, you sobbed trying to push him off of you.
-“Stupid moss head...saying he’s better for you then I am. I’ll show him. Your pussy will only be molded to my cock no one else’s!”, the blonde growled.
-His thrusts are so rough that they make your breasts bounce every time his cock fills your wet cunt, your whole body is burning and you can’t feel your legs. You just want it to stop.
-“Prince, stop!”, you begged calling out the title that Sanji absolutely hated.
-He stopped finally taking in how weak your body was from his constant overstimulation. He returns back to his gentlemanly state and puts you down making sure to keep you leaning against him since your legs are weak.
-“I’m sorry my love, I made you so uncomfortable that you had to say that word...I-I’m so sorry.”, he’ll apologize over and over even after you’ve said that it’s okay.
-He’ll gently clean you off, making sure to be careful with your sensitive body, scrub your head with the shampoo he loves so much, before finally joining you in the warm bath and relaxing with you.
-He knows that he was the cause of the issue but he stays by your side hoping you’ll forgive him, carries you to bed once he’s thrown one of his long shirts over your sweet body, and carries you to bed.
-He cooks you your favorites so you can enjoy a nice meal before sleep and absolutely swoons over how cute you look while stuffing your cute face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yonji Vinsmoke
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-This man is huge compared to you in every way, towers over you and admired you as his prey but god does he love you.
-Not as mean as Ichiji and Niji but still an insult slips out of his mouth here and there when he has you bouncing on his thick cock.
-He loves the way your ass bounces when you come down hard on his cock taking his whole member in despite how small your pussy is compared to his length.
-He smiles at the feeling of your nails digging into the flesh of his thighs as you ride him silly.
-“Yeah pretty girl that’s it. Take it all in.”, he’ll order striking the plump flesh of your ass with his heavy cold hand.
-He’s not even trying but his heavy hand leaves a mark on your tiny cheeks in seconds, the sweet cry of his name motivates him to do it again and your hip movements become long forgotten as Yonji slaps you ass.
-Each hit makes you clench around his cock, strangling it in your tight little walls. He adore the sensation but quickly becomes impatient so his hips start moving plunging his cock so deep that you feel the entrance of your cunt rub against his pelvis.
-“That’s it you like getting spanked don’t you stupid princess? Come on try harder, I’m gonna fill you up with a little heir to my name and you’re gonna take it all.”, Yonji growls smacking your thigh.
-You can’t take anymore strikes from his hand, your cervix hurts from how much he’s been thrusting into you. So you can’t do anything but cry out the word, “Monster!”, you cry out making Yonji freeze up immediately.
-As you collapse off of his member his brothers barge in like nothing informing him of the new mission they’ve been appointed, both of them staring at your shaken form as you try to cover yourself.
-Niji dares to reach out to you with a shit face grin on his face but Yonji doesn’t let his brother touch you. He throws his royal cape over your naked body and shoves his brothers out of the room to change.
-“Stay here, rest up. I should’ve realized that it was to much for you, don’t be mad at me.”, He’ll sigh, the tall green haired man will get on his knees placing his head on your thighs waiting for your forgiveness.
-You forgive him once your body has calmed down and gently play with his hair forgetting that he has to leave on a mission until Niji starts pounding at the door.
-“I’ll be back beautiful. Just wait for me and I’ll make it up to you.”, he smirks pressing a hot kiss to your plump lips.
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pikapeppa · 3 years
Text
Garrus Vakarian x f!Shepard: Crick
Hello friends and loved ones: I am dipping my toe into Shakarian fic. Haven’t quite decided yet how much to commit to writing this pairing in detail, so here’s a little oneshot set just after the Horizon mission in ME2. ~2400 words. (Tumblr only for now, but I’ll post on AO3 if I decide to write more.)
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Garrus sighed as he made his way to the main battery room. There was a stiff feeling in the left side of his neck and shoulder when he tilted his head, and he was annoyed by it. It was his own fault, really; he’d fallen asleep at his weapons modification table again last night and woken with this crick in his neck that wouldn’t go away.
It was one of those times when he really wished he could get a proper hammer massage. There was that one place on the Citadel that did real Palavenese massage, the good kind that you really felt vibrating all the way through your carapace into your bones, but Garrus wasn’t sure if Shepard would be ordering them back to the Citadel anytime soon.
It’s just a crick, he reminded himself. It could be so much worse. The fight they’d just gone through on Horizon had been… a tough one, to say the least. Any fight with an unfamiliar new enemy could be unnerving, but seeing that Harbinger thing jumping from body to body during the fight had almost been enough to make Garrus pause.
Almost, but not quite. Archangel never hesitated or missed his shot. 
He stepped into the main battery room and took a deep breath, then released it in a satisfied sigh. The air in here smelled like clean plastic and a hint of metal, and he savoured the relaxing smell just as he did every time he stepped into this room after a hard fight. 
He flicked on the monitors and cracked the joints in his fingers, then started his usual routine of checking the gun settings – a routine that was more for comfort now than necessity, if he was being totally honest. Cerberus might be a pack of crazies doing their twisted human experiments, but they sure made a mighty fine canon. 
He finished up his calibrating routine, and he was just about to move on to studying the Collector particle rifle that Shepard had salvaged when he heard the distinct beep-and-shunk of the door unlocking. A second later, the doors slid open, and Shepard stepped through. 
She nodded briskly. “Garrus. Just checking in. You doing okay after that fight?”
“I’m just fine, Shepard,” he assured her. “I was about to start looking at your new toy here, actually.”
“That’s great,” she said. “It looks like a powerful little piece of tech. Something we can turn to our advantage, you think?”
“I don’t doubt it,” he said. “There’s nothing I find more satisfying than using the enemy’s own weapons against them.”
A small smile crossed her face, just as he’d hoped it would. He hadn’t seen a smile on her face all day, not since the Collectors had gotten away with the population of Horizon’s colony. Kaidan’s angry lecture probably hadn’t helped things, either. 
She huffed and leaned an elbow on the weapons mod table. “That’s pretty bloodthirsty of you, Garrus.” 
“Bloodthirsty? Me? Never,” he said. “Thirsty for justice, on the other hand…”
She laughed — a husky rolling sound that always reminded him, for some reason, of brandy-filled chocolates. “What a line. Did your time on Omega inspire you to dip your toe into writing noir mystery novels?”
“What if it did?” he said playfully.
“Then I’d tell you stick to your dayjob,” she replied.
It was Garrus’s turn to chuckle. Shepard smiled at him once more, then straightened up and nodded at the particle rifle. “I know you just got started here, but I’m interested to see what you find. Mind if I watch you working for a while?”
“No problem,” he said. “Might ask you to throw up a barrier for your own protection, though. This thing doesn’t use conventional heat sinks. I’m not sure yet if it can even be fully turned off.”
She nodded and cast herself a barrier with a quick clench of her fist, and Garrus got to work studying the Collector rifle. He scanned it to build a schematic and explained the exploded view to Shepard, and she frowned thoughtfully and asked questions about the weapon’s uses and disadvantages, and all the while, as he often did, he wondered what she was really thinking. 
By any objective standards, it had been a bad day. They’d just watched most of a human colony get taken away by the Collectors. Her former lieutenant had accused her of crimes against her race right after a really tough fight, and when they’d boarded the Normandy once more, the Illusive Man had told her that he’d actually incited the Collectors to target Horizon. 
If Garrus was in Shepard’s place, he’d be vibrating with anger by now. But here she was, watching him dismantle a gun with the calmest look on her face. 
A solid half hour later, when he’d finished thoroughly surveying the rifle, he tapped his visor from its analysis mode back into its resting mode and looked at her. “I think that’s about all I’m going to do with this rifle for today. You need me for anything else?”
“Nothing else for now,” she said. “Thanks for the demonstration. I’ll talk to you later.” She stepped back toward the door. 
On a sudden whim, he opened his mouth. “Shepard, hang on a second.”
She turned back to him. “What is it?”
He hesitated. Now he was wondering if the question at the tip of his tongue was too personal. He and Shepard were friends, sure, but his question might touch a bit of a sore spot, given what had happened today. If Garrus knew anything about Shepard, it was that she wasn’t much of one for talking about her feelings when missions didn’t go as expected. Not that Garrus was a talky-feely sort of guy, either, but still… 
She raised her eyebrows expectantly, and he shook himself. He’d called her to turn around; he had no choice but to ask now. “Are you doing okay?” 
Her eyebrows rose higher. “Sorry?”
“This whole Collector business on Horizon,” he clarified. “I know it didn’t go down the way we wanted, and then with the Illusive Man being, you know… illusive.” He lifted his shoulders. “It can’t have been easy.”
Her blue-black eyes crinkled at the corners. “You worrying about me, Vakarian?” 
“A little, maybe,” he said. “You’ve only taken a dig at me once today.”
Another smile flashed across her face, but it was gone a second later, smoothed back into her usual businesslike expression. “I’m all right,” she said. “It’s a hit to have lost the colony, but we’ll save the next one. I’ll make sure of it.”
He nodded. “Seeing Kaidan was a bit of a shock, huh?”
She huffed and folded her arms. “It wasn’t ideal, but that’s the way it is. He’s got his mission, and we’ve got ours. We can’t lose our focus over personal feelings.”
Garrus nodded again. Everything she was saying was reasonable and true, and her calm attitude was envious, really. If Garrus was able to keep his calm like Shepard did… well, he’d tried to channel Shepard’s calm while he was on Omega, but it had only gotten him so far. Garrus had never known anyone, human or otherwise, who kept their cool all the time quite the way Shepard did. 
And yet, for some reason, he just… he wasn’t sure. Her manner struck him as a little bit off, somehow, like the feeling of the crick in his neck.
She lifted her eyebrows. “Anything else?”
“How do you do it?” he said bluntly.
She blinked. “Do what?”
“Keep it together all the time,” he said. “You never seem uncertain. You always seem to know what you’re doing, even if you can’t possibly know. I have to admit, I envy you,” he admitted. “How is it that you always manage to keep it together?”
She didn’t reply right away. Instead, she just stared at him without speaking, and Garrus started to feel a little awkward. It was hard to tell from the look on her face, but he thought that maybe she was… was she angry? Surprised? Bored, maybe? He couldn’t quite tell. Human expressions were usually easy to interpret, with their fleshy lips stretching and pouting and their eyebrows leaping up and down. But when Shepard was in her ‘commander’ mode, she could be so damned hard to read. 
She glanced at the closed door. Then, to his surprise, she walked over to him and sat in his chair. 
She raked her long black bangs back from her face and looked up at him. “You want to know my secret?” she said.
“Secret?” he said blankly. “To what?”
“To staying calm all the time,” she said. “Can I tell you my secret?”
“Um, sure,” he said. 
She leaned toward him, and he instinctively stooped down a bit to hear her better — a good thing that he did, since her voice was low and conspiratorial when she spoke. 
“I cry in the shower,” she said.
His guts twisted in a funny way. “What?”
She leaned back in his chair. “I cry in the shower,” she said. “When something really fucked up happens, I get in the shower at the end of the day and I cry like hell.”
He stared at her wordlessly. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say, but it wasn’t this. 
A little smile curled the corners of her lips. “What’s wrong? Not the answer you were hoping to hear?”
“It’s — it’s not that,” he said. “I’m just, uh, surprised. You cry in the shower?”
“Yep,” she said. “Not bullshitting you, I promise. This is not a bet with Joker or anything like that.”
He tried to gather his wits. “So… what, you cry in the shower, and then you just… get back to being Commander Malin Shepard, saviour of the Citadel and resident Reaper conspiracist?”
She chuckled. “Exactly. It’s like a purge. Works perfectly every time.”
He nodded slowly, feeling like he needed some time to process this, and Shepard huffed and punched his arm in a friendly manner.  “Not so impressed with me anymore, huh?”
That wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t that he was unimpressed. But now he was actually worried about her. In all the time Garrus had known her, he had never once imagined her crying about anything. If what she was telling him was true, though…
Hang on. How often did she cry in the shower, exactly? No, he couldn’t ask that — it would definitely be overstepping. 
He scrambled to find a clever reply. “It’s not that,” he said. “Actually, I’m jealous.”
She laughed. “Jealous? Why?” Then her eyebrows rose. “Wait, can turians cry?”
“Sure,” Garrus said. “But we don’t do it often.”
“Is it hard for you to cry?” she asked.
“Well, the turian military doesn’t exactly encourage you to curl up in the corner for a little weeping time,” he said dryly.
She snorted. “Not what I meant. I was more wondering if, uh, since you have deep eye sockets, maybe your tears collect in there somewhere…?”
He flared his mandibles in amusement. “Tears don’t collect in a little reservoir under our eyes or something, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he drawled. “But yeah, we can cry. It just doesn’t happen much. Which leads me to the jealousy,” he added. “You get to sit in your shower crying whenever you feel like it? Forget the private cabin: that’s the real luxury of being the commander.”
She laughed again, more heartily this time, and the husky warmth of her laughter was such that Garrus could almost taste the sweet bite of brandy and bittersweet chocolate. “Well, if you ever want to try it sometime, let me know.”
“Try what?” he said. “Crying in the shower?”
“Yep,” she said. “You can borrow my private shower instead of using the shared showers down here, if you want. The walls are soundproof, so nobody can hear you wailing.”
For a split second, an image flashed across his mind: Shepard’s private shower. No, not just Shepard’s private shower: Shepard’s private shower, with Shepard in it. Shepard naked in the shower — what did her body look like under those clothes, he wondered? — and he, Garrus, joining her in the shower —
Wait. Wait a second. Why was he thinking about that? He shouldn’t be thinking about that. It was Shepard, for crying out loud: his friend and his CO. Who did he think he was, to imagine his human female CO naked in the shower? 
He scrambled to get his thoughts back on track. “I’ll, uh, let you know,” he said. “Might have to train my eyes how to cry, it’s been so long.”
She smirked. “Nice try, Vakarian. Something tells me you’re not quite that heartless.”
He chuckled — a little weakly, to be truthful, but Shepard didn’t seem to notice; she was rising from his chair with a smile. “Well, I should go. I’ll see you later.”
“See you later,” he echoed, and he watched her surreptitiously as she left the room. Once she was gone, he sat in his chair and closed his eyes. 
Crying in the shower… he honestly wouldn’t have guessed it. He’d expected her to give him some kind of encouraging advice or bolstering words of wisdom, like the sorts of things she said to the team before they set off on a mission. But somehow, hearing her say she cried in the shower was… interesting. It made him think about her in a different way. He was worried for sure, but also… comforted, somehow, to know that even Shepard got overwhelmed enough to cry. It seemed that under all that heavy N7 armour, she really was a regular person, too. 
Under all that heavy N7 armour… A flash of a thought projected itself on his closed eyelids: Shepard stripping off her armour, her slender human fingers raking her sweat-dampened bangs back from her face, the small bare patch at the nape of her neck where her short spiky hair faded into light golden-brown skin… 
He snapped open his eyes. Was he drifting off? He must be more tired than he thought. No other reason that he’d keep thinking about Shepard like this. 
He rose from his chair and rolled his shoulders, then clicked in his mandibles in annoyance as the crick in his neck announced itself once more. “Really could use a damned massage,” he muttered. Well, he’d just have to suck it up and wait until they got back to the Citadel.
In the meantime, he’d just have to cope with the strange nagging feeling of the crick in his neck.
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i-dor-u · 3 years
Text
garou x reader; what is a girl to do?
NOTE: This is the first time in a while when I actually write something new instead of chiseling older works, and it’s hopefully better than my last Jushiro drabble. I really wanted to write something One-Punch Man related since I really like this franchise, and now that I’m finally caught up with the manga, I feel like I now officially have the right to do it. Here’s something with Garou, since I really love his character. I’m also wondering if I should start inserting gifs instead of images for these fanfics.
pairing: garou x fem!reader;
content warnings: overall fluff, platonic elements, some odd humor, allusions to violence, possible spelling errors;
content synopsis: you have gained a peculiar friend and enemy at the same time, however, your kind manners and unusual attempts of getting close to garou may or may not win him over.
word count: 931.
currently playing: marna — what is a girl to do?
more of my works...
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"Hey! Garou, are you there?"
The insufferable brat again. This is the first thought that Garou manages to articulate whenever you cross his mind, which, incidentally, had been happening quite a few times now. You’ve got a goddamn nerve; you invade his mind, and now his territory? Passing the massive trees by, you made your way in the heart of the forest to spot the half-demolished shack that Garou would hibernate into when he isn’t out for blood and guts. “Why’re you here again? Jesus. Get a hobby or somethin’!” Garou coldly welcomes you from the branch of a large tree he was resting on. Your eyes widen once you capture him with your sight; he was injured from his eyes to his feet, which isn’t at all unusual, but you begin to wonder if his guy was on about anything else other than fighting; and most of the fighting coming with getting his ass handed back to him. “I went out of my way to bring you lunch and you’re chastising me? How can you be so mean?” You ridicule the situation with a fake pout, gaining a loud groan from Garou as a response. “Again? You beat my ass and then bring me lunch? What, you feel bad for battering every least of my internal organs and decided to nurse me to health to make up for it?” The self-proclaimed hero hunter snarled ferociously. You smile childishly. Garou is, of course, danger-play up for display, but he did not have the heart to hurt you. At least not anymore. “I only fought you because you attacked me. What is a girl to do in such a situation…?” You ask almost rhetorically, knowing he might not persist with the conversation. You did previously defeat Garou; however, you couldn’t distinguish if it was luck or skill. You’re too modest to go on about how much of a dazzlingly skilled hero you are, but you store too much pride in you to apologize to Garou for any inconvenience. You’ve considered the possibility of getting in a handful of trouble with the Hero Association for getting so buddy-buddy with the so-called hero hunter, but you simply could not take this guy as a threat. “So uh, what you got for me today?” Huh? When did he…? In an unseen flash, Garou was leaning over your shoulder, sticking his head out to analyze the same colorful lunchbox in your hand, splattered with images of various cartoon characters and Hello Kitty stickers that already became hilariously familiar to him. Even with that state of the lunchbox, Garou knew he would protect it with his life, had you asked him to. Still somewhat held aback by the vigilant manner in which Garou appeared behind you, you add, “Why the sudden change of spirit? I thought you wanted me to leave.” Garou exhaled with a grin taking over his wolfish face, a face that you had to make inhumane efforts not to serve with a knuckle sandwich at times, “You can leave alright, after you hand the lunchbox over.” “I’m not willing to bargain,” You comment upon tasting a piece of Garou’s unmistakable attitude, “Maybe only if bargaining promises a change in your manners.” “Huh? Manners? Is me refraining from hunting you not enough?” Garou held back a copious laughter, “I don’t really do that with anyone, so be a doll and be grateful.” “Funny of you to say that, considering you’ve been referring to me as your ‘prey’ up until very recently.” You added in your defense, exposing Garou’s dormant thirst for hero blood even when it came to you, his self-proclaimed lunch feeder. His bushy eyebrows furrow; well, that’s true, Garou would have added if not rendered speechless by your quirky affirmation. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You’re my prey, so I’ll take as much time as I want with you. I’ll hunt you when you least expect it. That’s the whole point! I’ll eat you whole! Starting from your pretty little head, makin’ my way down to your-!” Garou declared with his usual bloodthirsty might before abruptly discarding his speech, and you couldn’t tell if he was exposing his criminal desires or intimate fantasies. Starvation must’ve made him delusional.
You interfered, somewhat amused with how much blind honesty this guy could display, “How about you start from these pretty little boiled eggs and make your way down to this tuna salad beforehand? Seems like even starvation can’t shut you up.” Garou’s eyes widen at the sight of you handing the lunchbox over to him. His brows stayed furrowed and you could nearly tell he has trouble processing what he just said; however, he mentally slapped himself for allowing his mouth to run in such specific places. ‘Inner monologue, Garou!’ Snatching the lunchbox from your hands as gently as he could, which isn’t all that gently, Garou added, “Just so we’re clear… I’m not a weirdo or anything.” “Of course not,” you reassure him, “You’re just a dummy.” Garou grit his teeth, but he knew he couldn’t fully combat that claim. Most of it was true. “It’s settled, then,” Said Garou, “I’ll… I’ll bring this back later, dontcha worry about it.” He continued, referencing the adorably decorated lunchbox. “Okay! Please take good care of it! See you!” “Huh?” Oh, now you’ve done it. Garou’s eyes snap open. Your wording might have unintentionally activated every least of his instincts, and whosoever makes the unwise decision of approaching this silly lunchbox within a two-meter radius may or may not be reduced to a corpse.
“…See ya… brat.”
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wackatoshi · 3 years
Text
booty call
(time-skip) sakusa kiyoomi x reader
synopsis: (a lil alcohol, n.sfw themes obvs lol but nothing explicit) booty call or butt dial? sometimes, they can be one and the same.
horrible pick up lines, msby interactions, humour, sakusa’s a smooth texter... enjoy
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When was the last time you felt the touch of another human being? Too long — which is why you’re marinating at home like a sad old sponge, deprived of affection, dousing your loneliness with a drink.
You tilt your head back, letting the last few drops trickle down your throat, fingers wrapped around the neck of a cheap wine bottle. It sends a buzz through your body, a sensation that pales in comparison to the magic of hands on hands, the warmth of someone’s skin pressed against yours.
Your bleary gaze lands on the phone — phones? you swear there’s two of them — propped on the coffee table in front of you.
Before you can think twice, you’re reaching out for it, fingers tapping through your passcode in a blurred hurry.
Before you can think twice, you’re texting your designated booty call.
At least, you think you are.
+
Sakusa Kiyoomi’s spending a casual night in with his teammates. He’s sitting on Atsumu’s couch, leafing through a book, when someone’s phone starts to ping with a ricochet of notifications. For the most part, he ignores it (because it’s half-past-nine, so it certainly can’t be his), until Atsumu glides over to the counter to have a peek.
“Oi,” he calls, a brow hiking up his face. “Omi. Someone’s messaging you.”
Sakusa furrows his brows in disbelief. Instantly, another six deafening dings burst through, making his phone jolt on the counter like it’s been shocked.
Atsumu drops his head to peer down at the messages. All of a sudden, his face breaks out into a devilish smirk, triggering all of Sakusa’s fight or flight instincts. He abandons the book, leaps to his feet and snatches the phone from the table.
He takes a single glance, and immediately blanches. His notifications are polluted with a string of raunchy messages, all from an unknown number. Even as he’s punching in the passcode, they keep coming, one after the other, an inundation of thirsty pleas clogging up his phone.
Frantically, he pulls up the chat and skims up to the top of the twelve new messages, each text horrifying him more than the last.
YOU: hey boo 👻
YOU: hiiiiiii
YOU: ☺️☺️☺️ feelin some typa way....you down...? it’s me. going
YOU: timber
What the hell. Sakusa scrolls on, in spite of himself.
YOU: where r u
YOU: i wanna [redacted] your [redacted] until u [redacted] ☺️☺️☺️ wkieowkskwiwk yes i do ahohga
YOU: rearrange my Guts like a scrabble board. desecrate my temple. plunder my down UNDER
YOU: please
He attempts to form a response, but your messages are incessant.
YOU: call me galileo coz im gonna make u see stars tonight 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩
YOU: name one thing wetter than the ocean
YOU: ;)
His face starts to burn. He’s not sure if it’s out of sheer embarrassment for your sake or something else entirely. He brushes the latter possibility away, because that would be absurd, he doesn’t even know what you look—
YOU: (Attachment)
Oh.
Okay, well, the face certainly doesn’t match the messages. He hates that his knee-jerk reaction is that you’re cute, even if the photo’s a blurry selfie bedazzled by a glittery Snapchat filter. Squinted eyes, puckered lips, adorable cheeks. He wonders, for a second, if you’re being catfished, until—
YOU: (Video Attachment)
And there you are, in all your ratty boxer-shorts-and-tee-shirt glory, making sweet love to your dispassionate carpet. Sakusa stares in abject horror. God, you must be completely off your face to be compelled to send something like this. He can just make out the faint sound of Nicki Minaj in the background, spitting a volley of encouraging rap verses while you flop around on the floor like a freshly-caught salmon.
If there’s anything impressive, he thinks, dryly, it’s your lack of shame.
“Oh?”
A voice beside his ear. One syllable, saturated in a knowing lilt.
With a start, Sakusa quickly switches his phone off, which only makes the whole situation look a hell of a lot more suspicious than it really is.
Atsumu, hovering close over Sakusa’s shoulder, can barely suppress his glee.
A tense moment passes between them. Sakusa stares him down, while his mind races, frantically searching for a way to disarm this ticking time bomb of a misunderstanding before it detonates into chaos.
Sakusa takes a deep breath.
“Don’t—”
“Sakusa’s got a booty call!”
Stunned silence descends upon the room. Heads turn, all movements frozen, and Sakusa can almost hear the rest of his team’s collective five-and-a-half brain cells lagging as they process the news. Before he can react, they’re all swarming around him like bees, buzzing with probing questions and teasing jibes.
“Who?” Bokuto demands, his eyes wide as an owl. “Who?”
Hinata’s over the moon.
“Congratulations!” he gushes, so sincerely Sakusa almost catches himself feeling bad. “I’m so happy for you! We all knew someone would come around, eventually!”
Sakusa frowns. “What do you mean—”
“Wait, really!” Inunaki exclaims, bounding over. “Show me!”
“Dude,” Atsumu laughs. “Do you even know what a booty call is?”
“Booty call?” he asks, his face crumpling with disappointment. “I thought you said beauty haul.”
“Enough,” Sakusa snaps, mildly panicking because his phone is vibrating yet again, much to everyone’s intrigue. “It’s not a booty call. Someone’s just got the wrong number.”
“Sure,” Atsumu sings. “Omi’s got a lover.”
“I don’t,” he bites again, and swats the wandering eyes away before checking the latest string of texts.
YOU: ;)))))((((()((((
YOU: coming? ha
YOU: get it
Sakusa starts typing his message.
SAKUSA: you’ve got the wrong number.
A pause. He hopes this is the end of it, until those three terrifying little dots bounce up on the bottom of his screen once again.
YOU: lmaoooo what
YOU: stop playiniwijek277383$:893&!:$3898 o nwmmaj
YOU: that was my butt btw
He scowls.
SAKUSA: you’re texting the wrong person...I don’t even know who you are.
You start to type again.
YOU: ...
YOU: ok thanos 😓
The easy solution would be to block you. But for some convoluted reason, Sakusa is not interested in easy tonight. 
SAKUSA: who are you??
YOU: (Liked Your Message)
YOU: i askjj myself the same think every day :&&’l
SAKUSA: I think you should go to sleep
YOU: without me? ;)))
He doesn’t even bother to point out your blunder. You’ve already made enough of a fool out of yourself in front of him, anyway.
SAKUSA: please stop
YOU: fine :(
YOU: ...
YOU: WAIT A SEXOND
Sakusa waits.
(And waits.
And waits some more.)
A second passes, a minute passes, but the chat stays silent. And even though there’s not single peep from you or his phone for the remainder of the evening, Sakusa, for reasons far beyond him, keeps checking.
+
The next morning, you are nursing a terrible hangover.
A pounding headache behind your eyes, a discomfort over your hipbones — you shift the fabric of your shorts down and see a blossoming bruise on either side of your hips. Huh, did you actually end up getting some, only to forget the entire shebang?
Groggily, you reach across for your phone and open up your messages. One new text.
UNKNOWN: you there?
With a frown, you scroll up the conversation. As your hazy mind works to translate the text to words, the words to understanding, you almost scream with horror.
The picture. The video. The memories come flooding back to you. It plays for a fleeting second, and you catch all but a glimpse of your limp body smacking down on the floor with relentless force, before quickly scrolling away. But the harm is done, your mind is scarred.
Well, at least that explains the bruises.
Somehow, it only manages to get worse.
YOU: kiss
YOU: 💋*
YOU: soz typo
YOU: let’s make music coz i got a set of congas that go RATATATATATA
YOU: you must be poseidon because MY—
You stop there, pinching the bridge of your nose to allay the wave of humiliation drowning your dignity. The poor person on the other end. Their horrified responses are probably going to be branded into your mind forevermore.
Maybe you should just sweep this whole encounter under the rug.
Or maybe, you think, as your fingers tentatively start to type out a text, you should apologise.
YOU: hi. it’s me again. you were right, I had the wrong number. I’m so sorry
You’re about to launch your phone into the sun when it dings back with a response.
UNKNOWN: yeah, you’re good. not at flirting though
Oh? Your fingers fly across the screen before you can think.
YOU: really? but I kept you intrigued, didn’t I?
UNKNOWN: like a child at a circus
YOU: damn what kind of circus u taking ur kids to?
UNKNOWN: idk, the kind where people make complete clowns of themselves i guess
You swallow down a laugh.
UNKNOWN: what happened to you last night anyway? did you just pass out?
YOU: i did <3 thanks for ur concern
UNKNOWN: lol
UNKNOWN: the price you pay for a free show
YOU: shut up omg
UNKNOWN: can’t lie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at a floor so lovingly before
Oh, they’re teasing. You fight off a smile from working its way across your face.
YOU: very funny. now can I just trust that u will delete all trace of this train-wreck from ur phone 🥺
UNKNOWN: of course.
YOU: if I see it going around...
UNKNOWN: I think if people wanted to see an earthworm so badly they’d just go outside
YOU: SHUT UP
UNKNOWN: :)
Shoot. Why are you blushing over a smiley face at ten o’clock in the morning? This is absurd. You need a coffee, stat.
YOU: sadly I can’t reverse the damage, but would a coffee suffice?
There’s a long delay, and you start to panic.
YOU: or I could just venmo the $ to you. either works!
UNKNOWN: are you asking me if I want to get coffee with you? when you don’t even know my name?
YOU: names are irrelevant now. u have seen too much :/
UNKNOWN: maybe, but not all.
Your face flushes. You pause, fingers hovering over the keys for a moment, contemplating a smooth riposte.
UNKNOWN: sorry I’m walking, can’t text
A wave of disappointment slumps over you.
UNKNOWN: facetime?
Okay.
Okay okay okay okay okay okay.
You start to pace around your room, all too aware that you are still in pyjamas, your hair looks like a birds’ nest, and your voice sounds like you swallowed a brick the night before. It’s a disaster.
But so was last night, and yet this stranger still seems to be friendly.
YOU: sure
Your phone starts to vibrate, an unknown caller ID flashing across the screen. For a moment, you consider cancelling and blocking the number altogether, but the desire to put a face to the mystery behind the messages gets the better of you.
You accept the call.
His face pops into view — a masked man with black curls falling over his face like wisps of ivy, eyes dark as night, and two moles above his right brow, like the beginnings of a constellation. He raises a hand to shift down his mask.
“Hey.”
You hitch a breath. This man looks like he could be a reincarnation of Adonis, sent into the world as evidence that all those legendary gods really did exist once upon a time, and that some of them looked like this.
“Hi,” you reply, reverent.
He’s so cool, so collected. He brushes a few locks of hair from his face — a casual move that sends your heart skipping beats faster than you skip songs.
“I’m Sakusa.”
“Hi, Sakusa,” you breathe.
His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly.
He looks so familiar, but you can’t quite figure it out between your splitting headache and the way his gaze keeps flickering from you back to wherever he’s walking. Actor? No, surely you’d remember. Singer? That would be plain unfair. Model? You wouldn’t put it past—
“So,” he starts, wryly. “About that coffee.”
“Yes,” you rush to agree. “Coffee. It’s very good. Do you? Coffee?”
He laughs, shortly.
“You’re not drunk again, are you?”
“No.” You feel it, though, what with this man’s voice bearing a timbre that is downright intoxicating. But one long look at those coffee-coloured eyes would be enough to keep you up all night. 
So you let him talk — he’s just like his texts, terse and concise, but isn’t brevity the soul of wit? He keeps you on your toes, with a dead-panned quip here and there, eliciting laughter out of your awful hangover. It turns out that you’re not even that far away from each other at all, a train station or two at most, which is some stroke of sheer luck. Sakusa starts to tell you about his favourite little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that nobody seems to have discovered yet. 
“A coffee snob?” you tease.
He studies you, through the screen, and you almost feel the weight of his gaze as if he were right in front of you. He smiles, softly.
“I prefer to keep a low profile.”
And just before you hang up, with the details of a coffee shop date still fresh in your mind, you have the sense to ask for his full name.
“Kiyoomi,” he supplies. “Sakusa Kiyoomi.”
Rings a bell, doesn’t it? But when you tell him yours, he repeats it, and all you can think about is how your name has never sounded so wonderful before.
It’s not until you hang up, his name echoing in your memory, that you run a Google search for this man. Thousands of results. A plethora of pictures, teeming with irrefutable evidence of his good looks. 
And oh, God.
You lift your gaze from your phone to stare at your closet door, where your brand spanking new work uniform hangs off the hook, bearing the emblem of a gold-trim eagle that blinks back at you, eyes narrowed as if to say—
What the hell have you just done?
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gallavictorious · 3 years
Note
I saw your tags and I think you might need to write that fic of Ian and Mickey recreating their first time when Ian gets a tire iron. 🧐☺️
Okay, so this took me a hot minute, and I did it as a kind of speedwrite so it's rather short and not exactly thought out. I also went off (my own) script a little bit and it got unexpectedly sappy there for a moment... But! Have 1,4k very silly words of Ian and Mickey roleplaying their first proper get together because Mickey gave Ian a tire iron. I hope you enjoy it, dear one – thank you so much for the prompt! I had unexpected fun with it. ❤️
(Oh, and tags in questions are the ones on this post, so all credit to @jenatte for providing the original inspiration.)’
ETA: It’s on AO3 now too.
---
Ow. The fuck?
Reluctantly, Mickey blinked awake. The bright light suggested it was already near noon, but that wasn't what had woken it, that wasn't–
It came again: a hard poke to his back. Not the good kind, either, of Ian pressing his hard-on against Mickey's rear while they were snuggled close, but something cold and sharp. Insistent.
”What the fuck?” Mickey groaned, rolling over on his side and peering up at–
–his husband standing over him with... a fucking tire iron in his hands? Not just any tire iron either, but the one Mickey had gotten him as a gift for their anniversary as a mix of a joke, sentimentality and practicality; it was how they started, sure, and meaningful for it, but also a damn good thing to have, no home was complete without it. He thought that maybe Ian had overlooked the practial aspects, though, in favour of going a little misty-eyed before he started dropping half-assed quips about hard lenghts and Mickey had to roll his eyes and punch his husband in the arm a little bit.
Now Mickey's brow furrowed further as he tried to make sense of the scene. For a brief, terrifying moment, apprehension siezed his gut: was Ian having a manic episode, seeing enemies where there was none? But no; though he feigned a fearsome scowl, there was that glitter in Ian's eyes and a small quirk to his lips that spoke little of mania and everything of being a fucking dork and a tease.
”Give me the gun, Mickey,” he intoned, and Mickey was about to ask again what the hell and what fucking gun and maybe are you feeling okay man because perhaps Mickey didn't have quite as good a read on his husband as he thought he had–
–and then he got it, memory reasserting itself, and he could feel the fucking grin growing on his face quite of its own accord. He'd have felt stupid for not immediately catching on, but give him a fucking break, he'd been sleeping two seconds ago and his days of waking up with a start and ready to fight were slowly and thankfully becoming a thing of the past.
Ian's faux frown broke, as he was unable to contain an answering smile. He seemed inordinately pleased with himself, and with Mickey for getting it. Mickey would tell him he was a fucking idiot, but Ian looked so expectant that Mickey decided to play along instead. No harm in a little weird roleplay to make his husband happy, right?
Besides, it wasn't like Ian standing over him and looking vaguely threatening and very hot didn't do it for Mickey on several levels.
”Okay, fine,” he said, climbing to his feet while doing his very best to appear drowsy and uninterested. It had been instinctive back then, the plan of lulling the irate kid into a false sense of security before pouncing on him and kicking his teeth in for having the fucking gall to march into Mickey's room and demand things.
Mickey made a show of slowly turning towards the nightstand, just as he had all those years ago. He could feel Ian's eyes track his every movement, ready to react to the sneak attack he knew was coming. There'd be no taking him by surprise this time.
His face turned away and unseen, Mickey smiled. Or would it?
He grabbed hold of the bottle of lube on the table and spun around to throw it at Ian's head, took a quick step up and to the side, and as Ian gave a short yelp and involuntary raised his hands to protect his face, Mickey rushed him from the side to push him down on the bed. Ian went with a thud and an oof and Mickey didn't hesitate; he was on his husband in a second, straddling his chest and wrestling the tire iron from him grip.
”What the hell, Mick?” Ian demanded, not bothering to struggle but glaring up at Mickey with wide reproachful eyes. ”This isn't how it went!”
Mickey grinned. ”How it went is I kicked your scrawny ass,” he said smugly. ”Now, how am I gonna do that if you know which way I'm gonna move?”
”I was going to let you win!” Ian protested.
Mickey's eyebrows rose. ”Oh, you were gonna let me, huh?”
”Yeah,” Ian said slowly, eyes narrowing, ”I was going to let you.” And with that he grabbed hold of Mickey's arms and pushed him to the side while using his greater body weight as leverage to flip them around.
”Fucker,” Mickey spat, kicking at Ian's shins. He dropped the tire iron – not like he was actually going to hit Ian with it – to have both his hands free for a renewed assault on his sneaky little shit of a husband, but Ian had already wrapped his his stupidly big hands around Mickey's wrists and was pushing him down into the mattress, grinning triumphantly while Mickey struggled and squirmed beneath him.
”Guess I had a change of heart,” Ian said.
Mickey stilled, biting at his bottom lip as he considered. He was pretty sure he could still take Ian if he really wanted to, mostly on account of him being a ruthless motherfucker with no interest whatsoever in fighting fair. However, that required a level of playing dirty and pulling nasty jabs that went far beyond what he felt comfortable doing to his husband these days.
”Uh-huh, and what's the plan now, genius?” he demanded, opting for snark instead of violence.
Ian didn't answer. The look in his eyes had shifted from triumphant to something thoughtful, and softer.
”Do you think it'd have gone the same way if it'd been me on top of you instead of the other way around back then?” he wondered aloud.
Mickey made a face. It fucking figured that his sap of a husband would turn a promising round of foreplay into a game of sentimental what-if.
”I dunno,” he said, wriggling his hips a little to remind Ian that there were otherstuff they could be doing right now, stuff way more exciting than having a goddamn conversation. ”Does it fucking matter? It didn'thappen like that, and it never would have happened like that either, 'cause back then I didn't give a shit about fucking you up too bad, so I'd bashed your fucking brains out before letting get on top of me.”
He wanted to bite his tongue as soon as he'd said it, but it was too late: Ian's eyes had lit up and his thoughtful look transformed into a smirk. ”Well, I mean,” he drawled, leaning down to put his mouth to Mickey's neck, just for a moment, just a little bit of teeth in the brief touch.
”Fuck off,” Mickey said, but he was laughing. Ian's weight pinning him down was as exciting as it was annoying, as it was grounding.
Ian just hummed. He'd straightened again and was gazing down on Mickey with a look that was so damned fond it made a small blush work its way up Mickey's neck.
”I think we'd have ended up here anyway,” Ian decided. ”Somehow.”
”Oh yeah?”
”Yeah.”
Soft smiles then, as something warm and happy bloomed in Mickey's chest. For a moment, they just looked at each other, eyes resting on the face each of them knew best, loved best.
Ian let go of Mickey's wrist to put his hand on the side of his head, fingers tangling in Mickey's hair as Ian ran a thumb over his husband's cheek. He bent down again, but this time to capture Mickey's lips in a long, lingering kiss.
”I think I was always going to have you,” Ian murmured as they broke apart, forehead pressed against forehead.
A second later he yelped in surprised outrage as Mickey took advantage of his lapse in vigilance to grab hold of his hair and yank his head sharply to the side while pushing up to get Ian off him and halfway down onto the floor. Mickey followed him with a snicker, and off they went again, tousling and laughing and absolutely heedless of any noise they might make.
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cyncerity · 3 years
Note
Mmmmm.,, thinking about how if Tubbo nommed Tommy and Tommy grew just enough in his stomach to make a little bump.,,
Ok when I asked for sizeshifter Tommy getting nommed prompts, you got the message. You understood the assignment completely, you genius anon. Funnier yet, I had the same thought about Tommy shifting while in someone earlier, so you’re pyscic and also very much pandering to what i like to write and it’s working very well.
tw: vore, cursing
Btw, I took my shitpost idea from this post and made it a full story
“Tubbo, no.” Tommy deadpanned at Tubbo, who looked back at him with puppy eyes. “Tubbo yes!! You actually studied for this and I didn’t and if I flunk another test my dads gonna kill me!” the shorter teen whined. Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh. “Well then maybe you should’ve studied! I’m not gonna help you cheat this, I don’t even know how i would do that!”
Tubbo pouted and gave him a death glare that he ultimately couldn’t hold as long as Tommy could, so he sighed in defeat and started to get ready for school.
*****
School went pretty well for Tommy. He’d been pestered about the test a few more times by Tubbo, but he ignored most of the advances. He was just walking from the class he’d taken the test in to his next class when he got a text from his best friend: ‘meet me in the storage closet by the caf.’ Huh. Odd. Nevertheless, Tommy shrugged and headed that way. Not like he had much else to do at the moment.
He soon stepped into the storage closet, the heavy door closing behind him and shutting him in almost complete darkness as he fumbled around looking for a light switch. He could hear things clattering around him, but every time he reached in the direction of the noise, more noise seemed to come from another direction. What was going on? “Tubbo?” Tommy whispered. “You in here, big man?” Tommy said, a bit louder. No response, except the noises. Tommy could feel himself start to shrink in a bit as his movements became more sporadic looking for the light. “Seriously man, this isn’t funny!!” Suddenly, a loud clap sounded from behind him, scaring him and accelerating the shrinking he had already subconsciously been doing as he shrieked, now a measly 3 inches tall.
Suddenly he felt himself be lifted off the ground as the lights finally came on. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked up to see Tubbo holding him by his shirt collar, the heavy, large textbook that Tubbo had violently shut to make the clap noise now laying closed on the floor, looking smug with himself. Tommy glared daggers at him. “That was a low blow, Tubso.” “Of don’t be over dramatic,” the bigger teen smirked, “I’m just getting the help I need.” And with that, Tommy was tossed up into the air and quickly caught in Tubbo’s mouth. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing!!” Tommy shouted as Tubbo’s tongue lapped at his face. He was unceremoniously pushed into the side of Tubbo’s cheek as he tried to respond. “You just took the test, I’m going in to take the test now, so you can at least help me get some answers.” “You little-“ Tommy tried to finish before he was cut off by a loud swallow.
Tommy felt his legs get pulled down into the tight muscles of the throat. He tried to punch at Tubbo’s tongue to get his friend to spit him out but he only heard Tubbo chuckle as the muscles pulled him down to his shoulders and eventually sucked him in completely. Tubbo left the storage closet once he couldn’t feel Tommy in his mouth anymore and made his way to class. Tommy landed in his stomach with a dull thud as he heard the storage room door close and felt Tubbo start walking. Great. Didn’t this asshole know he had school, too?
Tommy pouted and laid back one of the wet spongy walls and slid down, begrudgingly accepting defeat. Eventually he felt Tubbo sit down, and he heard the lecturer start to speak, before silence once again. Tubbo poked his stomach. Tommy kicked at the wall where he had been poked. “You can’t just eat me and expect me to help you. Prick.” Another poke from the outside. Tommy kicked again.
There was an annoyed scoff from outside and soon the small space Tommy was sitting in practically folded in on itself as Tubbo moved to sit with his knees pressed against his torso. “Oh, fuck off, you dickhead!” Tommy shouted. “I’ll give you the fuckin answers, Jesus, just let up!!” Tommy could practically hear Tubbos smug grin as he put his knees back down and sat normally. Tommy sat fuming, giving Tubbo the answers to the test, waiting for the signal tap that signified his giant friend was ready for the next answer. So as Tommy sat and mindlessly rattled off information, he thought about what he could do to get a little revenge for the impromptu nom session. It was hard to think of something good enough. He needed something that was funny, but inconvenient, and that he could do from the stomach he was stuck in. Something that would piss Tubbo off in a playful way, and nothing that would cause him pain, maybe a bit of discomfort…wait. That’s it, that would work, all he had to do was time it right. The logical and mature side of Tommy’s brain said it was a bad idea: he’d never tried shifting while in a person before. Well, that part of his brain could fuck off for all Tommy cared. He’d never listened to it anyways. ‘Oh, this is gonna be so funny…’
****
A half an hour later, Tubbo finished the test. He was pretty proud of his successful plan to get Tommy to help him cheat, and he couldn’t see himself getting caught. There was no physical evidence of it, and he knew that as annoyed as he knew Tommy was, his best friend wouldn’t rat him out. He even made sure to fill in some answers wrong, it was foolproof! Tubbo leaned back, feeling the minuscule weight inside him, and if he focused hard enough, could even feel Tommy breath. He’d never get tired of how weird that felt, no matter how many times he ate Tommy. It gave him a sort of peace. He felt kind of bad for practically forcing Tommy into sitting in his gut, but it was his fault in the first place! If Tommy hadn’t refused to help him, Tubbo wouldn’t have had to resort to this! And he knew that Tommy would try to reign hell on him for this, but for the moment, he put that thought aside. There wasn’t much revenge Tommy could do from his stomach.
Tubbo soon heard the bell ring. And as soon as he went to stand up, he felt something inside him move. No, not move, grow. Double, triple the size Tommy was when he was swallowed, bigger than anything he’d ever even try to get down his throat, and all within the span of a second. The sudden shock of the change mixed with the uneven and unfamiliar added weight in Tubbos body made him fall backwards with a yelp, landing on his ass and knocking over a chair in the process. He heard some kids laugh at him on their way out the door, and saw other just stare. He could feel his face get hotter from the embarrassment. He not only heard, but felt Tommy laugh at him, the shifters now louder voice making the stomach walls around him vibrate slightly. And, oh god, that was a weird feeling.
Tubbo clutched his gut for dear life as he tried to stand. He grabbed a nearby desk and pulled himself up, doing his best to steady himself. And as soon as he finally managed to get used to the weight, more was added. He felt his stomach stretch around Tommy, more weight being added, making him stumble a bit more before he elbowed himself in the stomach, pulled his hood over his head, and tried to walk as quickly as possible to anywhere private, ignoring Tommy’s laughing fit.
Ten minutes later, Tubbo found a private, hidden area under a set of outdoor steps near his school. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and put it up to his ear just to be sure that if anyone saw him, they wouldn’t think he was a crazy person talking to himself. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Tubbo yelled, making Tommy laugh more. “Oh, you have no idea how much I would’ve paid to see the look on your face!” Tommy wheezed. “What did you do?” Tommy’s laughter died down as he tried to answer the question. “Well, I think that’s pretty obvious big man. I shifted.” “In me?!” “Well, yeah. Consider this payback for scaring me shitless and swallowing me without permission.”
Tubbo face palmed with his free hand and started to pace, feeling Tommy’s much larger form sway in his stomach and stretch it with every turn he made as he walked. “Ok, ok, fine I guess I deserved that. Just, why’d you have to do it in class? People were looking at me like I was an idiot. And how big are you even right now?” “Cause you are stupid,” Tommy answered part of the first question, but pondered the other. “I’d say a foot tall? Maybe a foot and a half?”
“A foot?!” “Yeah, that’s what I said. Listen, maybe.” “Alright, alright, ok, you’ve had your fun, now shrink so I can get you out of there and we can both go about our days.” Tubbo sighed. “No can do, big man.” Tommy replied simply, as if Tubbo were to have expected that answer. He didn’t. “Why the hell not?!” Tubbo yelled again, sitting on a step, to frustrated to keep pacing. “You put me in here in the first place. I’m now your responsibility, and you did this to yourself.” Tubbo felt a somewhat uncomfortable pressure on the front of his stomach and pulled up his shirt, partially horrified and partially amazed to see the front of his belly pushing forwards, slight imprints from under his skin. Tommy’s hands. Before Tubbo could even get a word out, Tommy finished: “Remember, I’m not stuck in here with you. You’re stuck out there with me.” The pressure released, and Tubbos abdomen went back to normal. Well, as normal as it could be. It still looked somewhat bloated for obvious reasons, the outline of Tommy practically indistinguishable from any other stuffed gut to everyone but Tubbo, but it wasn’t anything his hoodie couldn’t hide. Tubbo made it a point to stand up from the step quickly to try and jostle Tommy, but only succeeded in making himself feel a quick pit in his stomach, making him instinctually hunch over as it stretched downwards to accommodate Tommy’s weight. “Whatever. I’m done talking to you.” Tubbo replied sternly before walking off to his next class, which he was now horribly late for. “Sounds good, but I’m not quite done talking to you yet.” So the next 10 minutes was spent with Tubbo walking to class and Tommy rambling about increasingly bizarre topics in an attempt to irritate Tubbo, and with Tubbo unable to respond without being heard since he’d put his phone in his backpack like an idiot and now couldn’t reach it.
***
He walked into his next class 20 minutes late, and as quickly as possible made his way to his empty chair next to Ranboo, who started giving him weird looks a few minutes after he sat down. Tubbo gave him a weird look, and Ranboo looked back utterly confused and somewhat distraught looking. Tubbo shrugged and went back to his work, trying to pick up what the teacher was saying and drown out Tommy’s nonsense. Ranboo didn’t stop giving him weird glances though, and he seemed to be getting more and more anxious. Tubbo was about to ask him what was wrong when surprisingly Ranboo stood up and addressed the teacher. “Excuse me, I have a really bad headache. Like, it’s hard to concentrate and I’m seeing spots and it’s all around just really awful, can I go to the nurse, please?” He was given permission and was told to take someone with him, roughly grabbing Tubbo by the arm and practically dragging him out of the classroom as fast as possible.
At this point, Tubbo was worried. Ranboo was an introverted guy, there’s no way he’d draw that much attention to himself in class unless it was an emergency. He got even more worried when Ranboo dragged him past the nurses office and into a storage closet not dissimilar to the one Tubbo and Tommy had been in earlier. “Boo, are you alri-“ “Out of curiosity, where’s Tommy?” Ranboo interrupted. Tubbo froze. “Ummm…I don’t know, why do you ask?” He replied, trying not to sound as guilty as he was as Tommy, who had been silent since Ranboo had dragged Tubbo out of the classroom, mumbled to himself. Something about Tubbo being an asshole. “Oh, maybe because once you came in late and sat down I started hearing Tommy. Quiet, muffled, even, but I know his voice. That, and literally no one besides Tommy can talk about absolutely nothing for so long.” Tubbo heard Tommy let out an offended scoff and a “fuck you” at Ranboo, who apparently also heard it. “See, there it is again! You can hear him to, I know it. So where is he? I thought he was in your backpack, but you didn’t bring it with you to the ‘nurses office,’” Ranboo said, putting in air quotes, “so I don’t know where else I’d be able to hear him from.” Tubbo was left speechless again. Luckily for him, or actually rather unlucky, depending on how you look at it, Tommy was incapable of being left speechless. “In here, Ranboob!!” Tommy shouted, punching the front of the stomach walls, making Tubbo let out a hiss of pain as he punched himself in the stomach. Ranboo just stared blankly. “He’s…he’s in there?” Ranboo asked, pointing at Tubbo’s midsection. Tubbo sighed and nodded. Thank god he had to explain this to Ranboo and not some rando who didn’t know that he and Tommy did this regularly. “I thought that no one besides you could hear him when you ate him? I’ve never heard him from in there before.” “Probably because I’ve never been this big in a person before.” Tommy shouted in reply. “He’s a fucking foot tall, Ranboo. He’s making me miserable.” Tubbo deadpanned. “Just returning the favor!” Tommy shouted. “Ok, ok, wait, what happened, I’m so confused.” Ranboo questioned.
Tommy and Tubbo filled Ranboo in on what went down, who had his face in his hands by the end of the explanation, his thoughts clear to Tommy and Tubbo: ‘why do I have such idiot friends?’ “…ok,” Ranboo finally spoke out, “If anyone asks, I have a fever and you two, er, well, Tubbo helped me walk home. School ends in, like, 3 hours anyways, so it should be fine.” Tubbo and Tommy both seemed ok with that idea, so they went back to Tommy’s house, since Tommy’s family was at work, where Ranboo made both Tommy and Tubbo apologize for being assholes to each other, eventually convincing Tommy to shrink back down and finally give Tubbo a break. Tubbo didn’t spit him out though, and from the one sided conversation Ranboo was hearing, it seemed like Tommy was fine with that. Soon enough, all three were taking a nap.
***
At 2 o’clock, Phil got home, surprised to find the front door unlocked. He carefully made his way inside the house, looking for anything that could have been stolen or god forbid a thief still in the house. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Until he got to Tommy’s room, where he found Ranboo and Tubbo asleep on a backup comforter they kept around for the two when they slept over. Phil only had to wonder briefly where Tommy was, until his mind registered Tubbo’s hand, which was pressed protectively against his stomach. ‘Wait, shouldn’t they still be in school?’ Phil thought. But he took one look at the sleeping teens and decided he would chew them out later, turning of the light and closing the door.
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light-yaers · 3 years
Text
Sweet Escape: Chapter Seven
Poe Dameron x Reader
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Warnings: banterous flirting that may or may not crack your teeth, slight injury, alcohol, and OSCAR FUCKIN ISAAC
A/N: Honestly this is a bit of a filler, but I was having too much fun writing Poe and her's interactions that I simply couldn't stop. I didn't want to have such a large chapter, so I stuck with this little filler just for funzies. They do be getting closer doe....
Find the Masterpost here
Word Count - 2.5k
Chapter Seven: Blush
The first feeling upon gaining consciousness was ouch. Even opening your eyes made your muscles throb. The slow realisation that you were in the base’s med-bay, lying in a bed, came to you in waves. First, you let out an internal groan. Then, you let out an actual groan, as you tried to hoist yourself up to a sitting position.
Your body objected, rushing your limbs with an aching sort of pain that felt like you’d been training for 48 straight hours, but nevertheless you managed to sit up. The bay was quiet and collected, like a library, and only a few beds were actually occupied.
You felt her before you even saw her—Leia strolled round the corner then, eyes fixing upon you instantly. She gave you immediate comfort, despite your internal bruising and the anxiety that had started to bubble within your gut when you thought about what you’d just done.
The cat was out of the hypothetical bag. Your Force abilities weren’t just known now; you’d given the base an entire fucking demonstration. Brilliant.
“That was quite a show,” Leia said as she approached your bedside. You gave her a tired and half-hearted smile. “Thank you,” she added, and the seriousness in her voice was apparent. You nodded at her in response, not yet knowing what you could even say.
There was a silence that radiated from her—an intelligent and knowing quiet that told you all you needed to know; if you hadn’t of done what you did, many would have died. The base would have been all but destroyed.
“Are you okay?” she asked then, trickling her kind words over you softly.
“I feel like I’ve been punched all over my body, repeatedly,” you let out. A small scoff burst from her lips.
“I understand. The Force takes a lot out of you,”
“You could say that again,” you replied, testing out the movement of your arms. You stretched them out slowly, and your elbows clicked noisily. “Is everyone okay?”
“Some are more shaken up than others, but everyone’s just fine. Thanks to you,” Leia said, raising her brows at you in understanding. “Dameron’s waiting outside,” she added, causing you to whip your gaze to her suddenly. You let out a groan in pain as you brought a hand to rest on your stiff neck.
“Dameron?” you winced. Leia only nodded.
“I’ve never seen him be so proactive. He carried you here after you collapsed,”
You looked to your lap, overcome by a feeling half-way between wanting to vomit, and wanting to smile. Sure, you’d just revealed your gift and saved the damn Resistance, but you’d fainted afterwards—embarrassment wasn’t something that you dealt with well, as much as you shouldn’t have cared.
“Great,” you whispered to yourself. Leia let out another comforting chuckle, before placing a reassuring and gentle hand on your shoulder. You looked at her then, not even trying to cover up the absolute fear and anxiety on your face. Leia could feel your Force; she would have known your true feelings even if you had the strength to try and hide it from your expression.
“Shall I tell him to come back later?” she asked, but you were already shaking your head.
“No, no. He can see me,” the confidence in your tone was more prominent than you’d expected it to be, but maybe it was because it was him. It wasn’t Heidi or Lynx, who, as much as you liked them, were still closed books. Poe, though—
You already shared a room. What was one more?
Leia left after giving you a small nod. You took the few seconds it took her to leave the med-bay to mentally prepare yourself. You needed a nap, or ten naps, and you needed to keep it together. You’d never used your Force this way, nor had you been expecting to. The entire situation was a lot to take in.
But everyone was fine. You were fine. And that’s all that mattered.
Poe bound in before you could even slide yourself up the bed to lean against the wall. The first thing you noted about him was his expression; it wasn’t what you’d been expecting. His eyes were wide, his brow dotted with sweat, his shoulders hunched and tense and rigid. Maker forbid, the pilot was scared.
He grabbed a chair on his way over and sat down on it immediately, tucking himself in next to your bed as you fumbled with sitting.
“I’m fine, Dameron,” you said, as an involuntary chuckle escaped your lips.
“You sure?” he questioned, just double-checking. You nodded at him firmly, and then he visibly relaxed. He let out a large sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair and wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. “Had us worried there,”
“Had you worried,” you replied, shooting him a smile. It felt good.
“Hey, you’re the one that blacked the fuck out,” he let out, and you bit on your tongue as a wave of anxiety rushed through your gut. Dameron’s demeanour changed then, as an understanding settled onto his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you could use the Force?”
You swallowed uncomfortably, knowing that he’d obviously have questions. “Don’t take it personally. I haven’t told anyone before,”
“Why?” he repeated, looking at you with those big pretty boy eyes and delving deep into your damn soul. You didn’t realise just how hard it would be, being put in this position, but it was your own doing. You’d chosen to act.
“It was always easier to keep it a secret, okay? I wasn’t planning to ever use it in front of any of you, but—,” the breath hitched in the back of your throat as the image of the hurtling TIE hit your mind.
“The TIE followed Green-Two through hyperspace. It got hit and entered the atmosphere,” Poe explained. “They didn’t have time to realise what was happening and destroy it from the sky,”
“Yeah,” you replied, feeling overexposed and vulnerable and all of the feelings that you hated.
Your brain pelted thoughts at you then, as you tried to keep it together. It told you that everyone would look at you differently, even though you were all fighting for the same thing. It told you that you’d only become the brunt of another joke, that everything you despised about cadet life like this would be all-encompassing.
It told you that pilots would look at you like you had an unfair advantage; like you didn’t work to become as skilled as you were. It told you that Poe would think the same.
You fiddled with your fingers as Poe’s stare stayed glue to the side of your face. You didn’t want him to see that you were almost trembling, so you sucked it up. You forced yourself to perk up, to put on a blunt face, to ignore how close to screaming you were.
“I understand if you choose to take me off Black squadron,” you said plainly. Poe’s expression changed quicker than you could blink.
“Why the hell would I take you off my squad?” he replied. His squad.
“Unfair advantage and all that shit. Like I cheated or something,” you replied. Poe shifted in his chair and clenched his jaw.
“Did you use the Force on rank day?” he asked plainly. You immediately furrowed your brows at him, slightly angry.
“Fuck no. I don’t use it when piloting. I never usually use it—,”
“Then why the fuck would you take you off my squad, Ten?” he repeated, sterner this time. You let his words sink through your skin as you focused on calming your raging emotions. You were torn between kicking a wall, throwing a chair or crying on the floor like a baby. All three options sounded appealing to you.
“Even if you did use the Force to fly, I wouldn’t change your rank,” he added. “You’re a fucking good pilot. That shit can’t be learned just because you possess the Force. Unfair advantage my ass, Ten,”
The blush crept into your cheeks before you had the chance to look away. Poe’s lips curled into a small smirk—his most punchable expression. You had to speak away the tension before it consumed you.
“Can you go back to teasing me or horrendously hitting on me, now? All this mushy stuff is insufferable. It’s not like I fucking died,” you let out, trying to subvert his gaze away from your blotched cheeks. This was the second time the pilot had made you blush today—you didn’t want it to become a fucking daily occurrence.
You froze when Poe’s fingers reached out and touched your face. Your stare was upon him in an instant, watching the gentle way his eyes looked from cheek to cheek.
“I call you a good pilot once and you start blushing, huh?” he said lowly, sensually.
He was doing it on fucking purpose.
The redness of your face immediately elevated, but you’d grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm within seconds of taking in his words. He yelped in pain as you twisted his arm over the bed, causing him to stand from the chair and lean forward as you jerked him painfully.
That’s when you grabbed him by the collar, pulling his face close to your own and shooting him with a stare that only communicated one thing—death.
“If you want to keep this pretty boy face then I suggest you tread carefully, Dameron,” you said unapologetically, ignoring the pain in your limbs. Poe started to relax more now that your grip wasn’t on his arm. Hell, maybe he fucking enjoyed being threatened this way, because the smirk didn’t wipe off of his face at all.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re hot when you’re angry?” he said it as clear as day with no hesitation.
You dropped him immediately, causing his upper body to whack onto the mattress and spring back into his chair. He fell back into the chair and almost twisted onto the floor, but he regained his balance as chuckles fell from his lips boyishly. “Hey, you asked for this,” he said, raising his arms defensively at the unamused look on your face.
You pinched the bridge of your nose quickly, clamping your eyes shut as the hammering heartbeat beneath your ribs all but consumed you. “You—you—,”
“I really rile you up, don’t I?” Poe cut you off, crossing his arms smugly as you started to calm down slightly. You composed yourself as best as you could, not removing your angry stare from his pretty boy face. He thrived off of this, that much was certain. But it was true—you had just asked for it.
You just hadn’t expected reacting this way when your guards weren’t all the way up. There was something about being here with Poe, alone, after knowing that he’d been the one to place you on this bed himself, that hit you harder than you’d ever fucking admit.
These weeks hadn’t exactly been easy; being in the Resistance was literally the hardest job in the galaxy; but Poe had been a constant that you were only now realising. He was there when you went to bed, he was there when you woke up. His smug face was there whenever the subject of sex arose, or whenever he was ready to push your buttons, but his anger and rage was there whenever someone crossed you, as well.
Maker, it was almost like he cared.
And you weren’t used to that. You weren’t used to that at all.
Apparently, all of your thoughts had just made themselves known through your face, as Poe let out a soft scoff, eating up your expression.
“I’ll take that as a yes. What can I say? There’s no one like me,” he spoke so easily, so happily and upbeat. You could tell he was just trying to tease you more, but he was right.
“There is no one like you,” you repeated his words, jaw clenched. It wasn’t a compliment, and he knew that.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Poe said, waving his hand in the air. He leaned forward then, perking a brow at you questioningly, overly confident to the point that you were almost jealous of how open he was. “Does this mean there’s a tiny, minuscule, microscopic part of you that actually likes me?”
You rolled your eyes immediately, as you began to twist your legs to dangle over the side of the mattress. You placed your feet on the floor gently, applying pressure to them to see if you could stand.
Poe stood quickly, pushing back the chair as he got out of your way. You stood, leaning against the bed for subtle support, but other than the aches and internal bruises in your muscles, you were just fine.
“Don’t hold your breath, Dameron,” you said, as you started to stroll towards the med-bay exit. Dameron was at your side, cautiously staying close while also somehow keeping his distance. He was hyper-vigilant to make sure you weren’t about to fall.
When you both reached the door, Poe gently took hold of your forearm. All prior playfulness was gone from his face. “Thank you, for stopping the TIE. A crash like that... it would have ruined us,” he said sincerely.
“We’re all fighting for the same thing,” you replied. “I’m glad I could be of service,”
He smiled at you genuinely, and you couldn’t stop the warm feeling in your gut from spreading all over your body. As much as he teased and toyed and you had this back and forth; somewhere between hatred and likeness and flirting and fighting; you were both fighting the same war, performing the same jobs, living the same life.
He nodded once, before the two of you made your way down the corridor slowly. He stayed at your pace, not complaining as you got used to your creaky and stiff limbs or winced at the way your body pulsed with every step.
“So, no chance of a beer tonight, then?” he spoke up, perking a brow at you. You perked one back at him as an unexpected smirk curled onto your lips.
“I exposed my Force abilities, moved a crashing TIE with my mind and blacked the fuck out today. I think I’ll take a fucking beer,” you said. Poe chuckled to himself and you couldn’t help it when you joined him.
Slowly, he brought his arm to wrap around your shoulders. He shoved you into his chest playfully, just once, before gently pushing you back and removing his grip from you. “That’s what I wanted to hear,”
You and Dameron headed for the dorm together, shoulders often swiping against each other. Tension still hovered in the air, but it was as if both of you were slowly getting used to it. Maybe that was something that should have been scary to you, but when your Force wrapped itself around Poe when you both entered your dorm, exposing the gentle and fond way he was thinking of you—
All you felt was peace.
@foxilayde @onceuponathreetwoone @ecuadorlady @voidmalfoy @20th-centu-fairy-girl @frickfrackpattywhacktictac @baueoud @300nightmare003 @lilitrth @salome-c @youre-a-wallflower-charlie
I know this chapter is a bit short, but when I tell you big these are coming then please believe me.... get ready. <3
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