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harleehazbinfics · 20 days

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Can We? an au lucifer x reader oneshot

Author Profile a/n: SURPRISEEEEEE. i got 'we become we' -journey to jerusalem song on a loop since i found it and i knew i wasn't gonna get it out of my system unless i do something about it. so pls enjoy my ramblings lmfao word count: 1200+

"Your Majesty, please reconsider this! Our kingdom needs a Queen!"

Lucifer sighs at the aide's words, feeling irritated with the insistent suggestion of a Queen.

"I agree, your majesty. The people are quite worried for you. You need an heir, and you aren't getting any younger either," another aide jumps in.

Lucifer surrenders to them with hands in the air in exasperation and finally replies, "Fine."

The people in the room sigh in relief that they somehow got through to him. But hitch their breath when he adds on.

"However, I won't just choose anyone. Only the best candidate will stand by my side and be rightfully called the Queen," he glares.

"Good day, your majesty. My name is (full name), Princess of the Eastern Kingdom. I'm grateful for this opportunity," you smile amiably.

"Likewise," he responds quite honestly shocked from your tone.

You were the guest that was expected to arrive at the palace after receiving the invitation to be a Queen candidate. However, after word got around that you will be joining the fight for the title. All the ladies mutually agreed to resign. When he asked why, all the aide's replies were, "There is no other person worthy to be by your side other than the Princess."

Now, you stood in front of him. You were dressed beautifully, but not as extravagant as those ladies that came before him. You had a melodic tone in your voice that was pleasant to the ear. Your hands folded together gracefully. Everything about you was enchanting.

You tilt your head confused about his speechlessness. "Did I catch you in the wrong time?" you ask him.

His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that you left him dazed just from your introduction alone.

"No no," he excuses then coughs to get a grip on himself, "I apologize. I must have been tired from all the work this morning."

You give him an understanding smile and reply, "No apologies needed, your majesty. I feel honored to be here and see how hard you work. I'm sure this kingdom is grateful to have such a diligent King."

His blush intensifies from your non-stop flattery. He's heard many compliments in his life for his achievements. However, when you were the one saying those words. He can't help but believe it was all true with how genuine you sounded.

"Please, I'm quite embarrassed to hear such words from you, Princess. I've heard many tales of your acts of charity for your and other neighboring kingdoms. You've paved the way for others to follow in your example and gave a chance for the poor, homeless and orphaned," he redirected trying to calm his flaring cheeks.

He was pleasantly surprised at your reaction.

"P-Please! You've heard of that? Oh, I'm embarrassed! I hope only good thing reached your ears," you stumbled over your words when the attention turned back to you.

He laughs at you as you tried to hide behind your hair as you also flushed red. 'For someone, who gives out so many compliments. She can't even handle a couple of her own.'

'This wasn't such a bad idea,' he thought as he watched as you smile and continue talking to him.

"(Y/n), can I ask you something?" he says sitting at the edge of the bed where you sat beside while reading a book.

It had been several weeks since your marriage and it's been quite busy for the both of you as you adjusted to your married life. Lucifer finished paperwork for his projects and formal preparations for your ascension to your rights as the new Queen. Thankfully, it had finally calmed down and now you helped him with his work and even the inner management of the castle.

You have shared the room since the beginning, and you've already shared your first night as husband and wife together. Which was.. quite passionate to say the least. But, after both of you would wake up earlier or later than the other, too considerate to wake up the other from their well-earned rest. So, now that it has finally calmed down and Lucifer approached you. You couldn't help but feel nervous.

"Of course, anything," you reply putting away the book and taking his hand in yours.

He smiles and gains courage as he caresses your hand back and says, "Are you okay with this arrangement?"

You tilt your head unsure of the meaning, "About what?"

"This," he gestures to the both of you, "are you okay about our marriage?"

You huff out a laugh relieved, you thought it was a life or death situation, "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs and replies, "I don't know. I just thought you were having doubts about us."

You give him a meaningful look and stood up from your spot. You then tugged him to stand with you. You made him hold your waist and hand while you placed yours on his shoulder. You led him into a slow dance with a smile on your face.

"Remember, our dance together?" you asked.

"At the wedding?" he asks.

You shook your head and laughed, "We danced one together way before that. That night where we shared the stars together."

His eyes lit up, remembering that night.

"During that dance, I thought that being with you will be worthwhile. And if wherever this choice leads me. I won't regret being with you, Lucifer," you say with a deep look in your eyes.

His eyes soften as he gazed at you. You were nothing but wonderful to him, it was childish of him to assume you were having doubts. He should have trusted you and made you happy instead. You deserve nothing less than that.

"Can we become more Than half of a union we're chosen for?"

He sings as he pulls you closer to him.

"Where I am your best half And I am yours,"

You continue with a huge smile on your face as you followed his lead, gliding around the room.

"Stuck here forever And hopefully not ending in estrangement,"

You sang together faces inching towards each other with half lidded eyes.

"Can mine become yours Combining our dreams Without keeping score?"

You twirled around the room with him catching you. He opens the door and leads you out into the halls where you continued your dance.

"Always together, but never bored No choice in the matter but This will never work without each other,"

The both of you laugh like children as you chased each other down the halls.

"Can we become we? (Can we become we?) Start a new line on this family tree,"

He catches up to you and lifts you off the ground and kisses your cheek with a hearty chuckle from your deviousness.

"Two hearts connected by one beat, Your hand in mine and,"

You beam him a smile as you placed your hands on his chest feeling the rhythmic thumping of his heart from chasing you around.

"I could never choose to love another," Lucifer whispers as he pulls you into a kiss which you return with fervor.

After minutes of kissing one another, he places you down and hold your waist as places another kiss on your temple with a beaming smile. You return it and let him lead you back to your room.

"Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too," you whisper as you gave a passing gaze at the portrait of a blonde woman with her face covered with a large cloth.

Other Lucifer Fics:

@bonnie-02 @marxo5 @whaatttlaufey @froggybich @rybunnie @midorichoco @bontensbabygirl @janey @akiqvq @wonderlandangelsposts @spoiled-slutt @preciousbabypeter @roboticsuccubus83 @simbalioness @reachthestars @atlas-rin @manachpo@luc1fersducky @lovestruck-enby @azullynxx @delightedtosee @cherry-4200 @aria-tempest @lvstyangel @0strawberrysorbet0 @corvid007 @kaminarithebest @whydosnakesnotdance @psychoanalyze0 @sweetadonisbutbetter @lunalily19 @dionysusismypatrongod @skyeliteratures @sappire904

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immajustvibehere · 7 months

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Touch Starved Arthur x fem!touchy Reader (Part 2)

Pairing: hh!Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader (fluffly)

Part1 here!

summary: Arthur takes you and Jack out camping for two nights. Both of you have to battle your feelings for each other until you finally....

warnings: one bed trope, fluff, domestic bliss

6000 words

In the manner of Arthur’s approach, you knew he was up to something. His big hands rested on his gun belt, his expression was casual. His attempt to appear relaxed was almost perfect. You weren’t fooled so easily, though. By the smug grin that started to appear on your face as Arthur came closer, he understood that you had sensed his unease from a mile away. Your intuition was exceptional, and Arthur silently cursed himself for his own transparency. And suddenly, there were his subtle tells…the scratching of his neck, the scrunching of his nose, the restlessness of his fingers caressing the leather of the belt.

"Hey, what's up?", you asked and propped your head up with your elbow resting on the table.

"Uhm...I have a proposition to make", Arthur awkwardly sat down at the table. Thankfully, barely anyone else was around to witness this encounter. The sun hadn’t risen yet and people were only slowly crawling out of their beds. In fact, Arthur still saw the remnants of sleep in your features but the steaming mug of coffee in front of you suggested that you were diligently combating it.

"I'm all ears."

Arthur couldn’t help but detect the playful undertone in your voice. You had grown more comfortable around each other the last few days and weeks and some banter and teasing were commonplace by now, particularly in the presence of others. But when you found yourselves alone, which hadn’t really happened since last time, you’d feel like there was a more genuine connection and care for each other than either of you would normally let on.

"Ya can say no if ya don't want to but-...well, I already talked to Abigail. She said she was fine with it", Arthur started. You had no clue what he was on about, but he pressed on, "I suggested we take out Jack for a night or two. The boy needs to see something aside this patch of land and I thought...if you would wanna tag along? You know, I was fine fishing with him but I'm not sure if I'd be any good at the other stuff."

"Yes, of course", you immediately replied. Arthur wasn't sure why he had expected a rejection or a dismissal that he was stupid to suggest such a thing. You actually looked pleasantly surprised about the idea.

You smiled: "It's not just Jack, you know? I haven't left camp since we moved here, so I'll get to see some of the country too!"

"Okay, sure", Arthur said, still somewhat in surprise about what you had just agreed to. But his surprise soon gave way to a sense of anticipation, especially when he noticed enthusiasm. He couldn’t supress a warm chuckle, evidently relieved that everything had worked out.

You briefly discussed the logistics, and Arthur settled on a plan: a night between Dewberry Creek and Ringneck Creek for the first stop, followed by, if Jack was up for it, a night in a room at the Rhodes Saloon.

The following day, you were all packed up. Your horse carried a rolled-up tent, large enough to accommodate the three of you. Jack rode with Arthur, he was the experienced rider after all and would be much greater use in keeping the child from sliding off the horse. It was a fine day, the morning sun was veiled behind some clouds, offering a respite from the usual stifling heat. Rain wasn’t to be expected, the clouds looked like they would clear sooner or later.

For the ride, Jack was dead silent for ten minutes at a time but then asked any question he could come up with. Arthur appreciated your willingness to respond, particularly when faced with Jack’s more challenging inquiries that needed to be tailored for a child’s understanding. Arthur was outright impressed at your skill in addressing his questions, and kept silent, even if Jack wanted his view on something specifically.

It was a smooth ride. Once you had passed the first creek you kept looking for an ideal spot to build your camp. You watched happily how Arthur pretended to discuss the area with Jack, granting him the final say in where to put up the tent. Arthur was responsible for the tent while you went off with Jack to look for firewood. When you returned, the tent had been putt up and Arthur had already gotten out the fishing gear.

"Are we fishing again?", Jack asked with curiously.

"Well, we gotta eat something", Arthur answered.

"But fishing's boring!" Jack said back and Arthur chuckled warmly. The last time he took the boy fishing, it was anything but uneventful, though he understood that a four-year-old wasn't so keen on standing still and waiting.

You squatted in front of Jack: "Why don't you take your toys with you to the water? You can play and Arthur and I'll do the boring waiting."

"Mh, okay."

You walked over to Ringneck Creek. Arthur settled on the same spot he had been to while fishing with Javier a while back. It had a good overlook of the place, so Jack could play in the distance, while still being in eye- and earshot. You and Arthur sat down next to each other, not saying anything and prepping the fishing rod. Even when there were no words exchanges, both of you felt comfortable in each other’s presence. Arthur felt your eyes on him as he pierced a tiny bit of cheese through the hook and handed the rod to you.

“The fish get cheese for lunch? That’s mighty fine, don’t you think?”, you joked.

“This cheese? It has been mouldy for days now. It won’t do us any good. But for fish? The stinker, the better”, Arthur explained and added in a mumble, “Or so I’ve heard…”

You both threw out your line and before you quipped: “So you keep your mouldy cheese in your satchel with the rest of your food?”

Arthur watched the rings expanding around his line, then swallowed quickly before looking you in the eye. Not very convinced he answered: “No…?”

He had expected a lesson on proper food hygiene, but you only grinned cheekily: “Glad I took care of food for this trip. But you really shouldn’t do that, you know? Next time you leave camp for more than a day, I’ll pack you something.”

“Ya don’t have to do that, really”, Arthur replied out of politeness, but the idea of you walking up to him with a sandwich to take on his journeys sent tingles to his chest.

“Mh. I insist”, you said, “I’ll have to take care of you if your stomach goes mad, so I’d rather prevent that. Not that I wouldn’t like to take care of you. Don’t you never keep an injury or sickness a secret in front of me, got it?”

“Yes ma’am”, Arthur said, “You sound like Miss Grimshaw, it’s good yer away from camp for a while”, Arthur joked. Deep down, he knew that you didn’t want to control him, but that you sincerely cared for his well-being. Something Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Of course, he would do the same for you – but that’s different because he had already figured out that he liked your attention more than anyone else. No, that he liked you more than anyone else. Arthur got a little lost in his own thoughts. He wasn’t yet entirely sure about his feelings for you. Mainly because he wasn’t sure how you felt. You were so kind and caring for everyone in the gang, he sadly doubted that he was anything special.

“I missed spending some time with you. Sorry that it’s so hard to sneak away from camp”, you said after a while, bringing Arthur back to reality.

“Doesn’t matter”, Arthur mumbled. He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks getting warm, “We got away now, didn’t we? I feel almost bad that I take up so much of yer time.”

“Please don’t”, you laughed, looking at the man next to you with a smile.

“I think I saw Sean shed a tear when he heard that you’d be away from camp for two days”, Arthur mentioned.

“Yeah. I think he’s sweet on me”, you said so casually, that Arthur was caught off guard, staring at you in disbelieve.

Arthur cleared his throat before he slowly said: “I thought he and Karen…?”

“Well, Karen is good for one thing”, you said with an ambiguous smile, not meaning serious offence with those words, “I’m good for another.”

From the distance, you heard Jack calling for ‘uncle Arthur’. Arthur sighed with a smile and handed you his finishing rod.

“Yer okay to watch that?”, he asked.

“Sure, go ahead”, you encouraged him.

Jack wanted Arthur’s help to balance on a dead tree. It was wholesome to see how Arthur helped him up on the trunk and then held his hand so he would have an easier time balancing. Then the boy would sit on Arthur’s shoulders and break a smooth looking branch from a tree, using it to play swords fighting with Arthur. You knew that Arthur was gentle with Jack and compared to some men in the gang, even to John if you were honest, he was doing a great job. Still, you hadn’t dreamt that he'd be ready to take on a whole swords fight, pretending to get stabbed when Jack’s twig poked his leg. You noticed Arthur’s stolen glances in your direction. It was as if he wanted to make sure you were watching, though you didn’t have the impression that he only played along to impress you. Arthur seemed to genuinely enjoy it.

“Caught anything yet?”, Arthur’s voice woke you up from your daydreams when he walked up to you after a while.

“No…”, you answered and admitted, “I was a little distracted.”

“Ain’t blamin’ ya. We gave you a hell of a show”, Arthur said and took his spot next to you again. Luckily, a few fish bit later on and by the time you walked back to your tent, a fire could be built and the fish were grilled. A lot of time had passed, and the sun was already low in the sky. Jack demanded to be read to from his favourite book. After you had read a few pages and Jack had settled in to listen to some more, you handed the book to Arthur. He had been busy with stoking the fire and cleaning the grit, so he was a little caught off guard by the action.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”, he asked.

“Read to the boy”, you answered with a grin.

“Why can’t you?”, Arthur asked, his eyebrows raised in wonder.

“My throat is starting to feel sore”, you lied so obviously, that even Jack could have seen through it, “besides; I want someone to read to me too.”

Arthur considered the situation for a moment before giving in. The last time he read a book to someone…well, he wasn’t sure. Was it to Jamie when he was still a little boy or to Isaac? Did he ever even read out to Isaac? Arthur was prompted into opening the book when you suddenly snuggled up to him. But that alone made him lose his voice for a moment, so he had to collect himself before starting to read.

You loved how raspy Arthur’s voice would get when he was nervous, but it soon smoothed out and he had barely read for ten minutes when you had to stop him, because Jack had fallen asleep.

“’s barely even dark…”, Arthur commented after he had carried the boy to his bedroll in the tent.

“He did have an eventful day”, you said, and Arthur had to agree. The bottle of whiskey Arthur had brought was soon opened up and half was gone by the time you could make out the first stars in the sky. A lot of your conversation was just recollecting the day or commenting on happenings on the last few days, but after some silence, Arthur started a new conversation.

"Maybe, if ya told me what the other men ask you to do, I'd feel less a fool for asking ya fer something", Arthur suggested. The undertone of his voice revealed curiosity, but he had tried to keep that intent hidden. You were surprised that he remembered what you had talked about the last time it was just the two of us.

"You're unbelievable!", you exclaimed and giggled so light-heartedly. Arthur's heart melted when he saw the crinkles around your eyes. "You just want the gang's gossip!", you accused him.

"No! I'm just sayin'", Arthur shrugged with a smile, "It would really help a lot."

You looked at him, his blue-greenish eyes staring right back at you. You were an avid eye-contact holder, it was required for your role in the gang. But no pair of eyes ever compared to Arthur's. It was his turn to catch your gaze wandering to his lips, he also noticed how your eyes fluttered, when they looked up again, and then briefly away, as if you considered something.

"Fine. I'll tell you some. But I won't tell you who asked me for what."

"Sure."

"Mhhh...it's not the craziest stuff, if you’re expecting that. Most men like when I play with their hair. Or head scratches. I told you I was good at them! Someone likes it when I feed them. Like...you know...we go pick some berries and I feed them. It can be really,...domestic, I suppose. But then it becomes a lot of fun because we try to throw the berries into each other mouths, trying to catch them. It’s great..."

You got slightly embarrassed. When you spend time with other men from the gang, you always tried to give them an experience that made them happy. Some of it was oddly intimate. It didn't bother you much, but now, speaking about it with Arthur, you somehow started to worry that you'd be worth less in his eyes. Just because you have done those things with his friends. It wasn't like you slept with them. No, none, with very few exceptional instances, have ever been inappropriate.

You were silent for a while, those thoughts taking over quickly. And yet, what should it matter? It’s just Arthur, it was okay if he knew that side of you.

You sighed deeply, still finding Arthur’s eyes glued to your lips.

"Some of them like to show off to me. It's real stupid stuff. Like 'look how quick I can draw' or 'check out this piece of wood I whittled'. I suppose these are just things they are mildly proud at...but embarrassed to show someone. I...like that, though. It's really cute and reveals something about the person. There is always something to praise or enjoy about it. And they really appreciate it."

Arthur stared into the fire, nodding his head slowly.

After a while, he started with: "I ehrm-..." Then he pulled out his journal.

"It's nothing special either...", he flipped through some pages, only to reveal a double-sided sketch of Clemen's Point. A beautiful sketch, well-observed with depth and detail. You knew Arthur kept a journal – you never knew he drew in it! And from all the sketches the other men had ever shown you, most of them could have been done better by Jack, this was honestly impressive.

"Arthur-"

"I know, 's silly", and he was about to close the journal when you snatched it out of his hand and placed it in your lap. Not daring to flip the page but studying the sketch in front of you.

"Are you kidding? It's fucking amazing."

When Arthur looked at you in disbelieve, you doubled down: "Fuck you, man. I can't even pick out things I like to praise because the whole damn thing's just-!"

"Yer teasing me..."

"Am not! When someone shows me a drawing, I often have to guess, like ‘Oh, that’s a nice bison you drew.’ And then they correct me and go like ‘It’s supposed to be a dog.’ and we have a good laugh about it…but this…Is that Dutch's horse?", you asked, pointing at the little white stallion. Arthur confirmed it. You started to point at things, accurately identifying what it was. John's tent, the chicken coop, even the figure in the distance, that only was a vague outline of a person, you identified as if you had been there when it was drawn.

"You have more drawings in there?", you asked.

"Sure. But- wait", he took the journal back, carefully skipping the pages where he had sketched you, which had happened suspiciously often recently, and only showing you the landscapes and animals. You never expected that Arthur had an eye for things like that. A doe was captured perfectly in its shy manner. A funny looking cabin, a crooked tree. For all those things, Arthur stopped and took his time to draw them. It was stunning. You felt like he had given you a better idea of what sort of a man he actually is. To say you liked that version of him, was an understatement and you started to realise this with every sketch of ducks or fish he presented to you.

"When you find someone, someone you really like. And start a family...you could draw and sell those pictures, you know?"

Arthur was shocked. Firstly, why you knew about his wish to start a family, and secondly, that you suggested his drawings are nearly good enough for anyone to pay money for.

"Y/n", Arthur lamented, almost with a painful voice. As if you were that naive girl that had no idea about how life works. That there could never be a family for him, never a different life than shooting and robbing to get to some money.

"Have you ever painted? Like with colour and a paintbrush?", you interrupted.

"Ain't worth it. I'd be no good with colour. And it's too expensive."

"When's your birthday?", you asked out of the blue. You were determined. If you had to work your ass off for it or drop to your knees in front of Miss Grimshaw, you'd get this man a paintbrush.

"No", Arthur said firmly.

"Come on!", you quipped.

"Stop it. It's just a stupid thing I do to pass some time it ain't-"

"But I love them!", you interrupted, "I really do. Every single one you showed me."

"Clearly, something ain’t right in your head then", Arthur joked and put his journal away.

"You are a charming man, Mr. Morgan," you teased back, bumping into his shoulder.

As if your words had confirmed Arthur's accusation, he comically tapped your forehead with his index finger: "Really messed up, aren't you?"

"Why?", you said, switching gears and skilfully capturing Arthur's finger that had went for another tap. It took both of your hands to open Arthur's hand, not that he resisted, but his hands were huge. And with your guidance, Arthur's hand cupped your cheek. "Is it because I like to spend time with you? Do you think one has to be mad to enjoy that? Because if you do think that...I have to give you ten reasons why you are wrong."

Arthur barely listened to your words. His senses were hyper focused on his hand which was touching your cheek. Warm and soft. Not smooth like a perfect hide, but skin isn't perfect. Hell, his hand must be mighty uncomfortable. It was calloused, beaten up, scarred. There was no rational reason why you would snuggle your face into it like it was a pillow you readied for a night's sleep.

With pleasure you watched how often he blinked, how flustered he became, how his hand twitched in excitement under your touch. As careful as you were some butterfly, Arthur’s thumb dared to caress your cheek. The movement was so small, it was like he didn’t even want you to notice that you he had dared to do that. Somehow, this rough and hardened outlaw was a real sensitive guy. A sensitive guy who made your stomach flutter.

"I'll head to bed and join Jack, you coming too?", you asked, guiding Arthur's hand into your lap and holding in lightly with your two hands.

"Imma...t-take care of the fire a little longer", Arthur answered with coarse voice, his throat entirely dried up.

"M'kay", you smiled and stood up without letting go of Arthur's hand. Halfway in the process of standing up you halted, pressing a light kiss on Arthur's cheek and whispered good night, before finally letting go and walking off to the tent.

Though you were exhausted, it was tricky to sleep. You listened to Arthur who was still attending the fire, walking up and down, whispering to the horses and occasionally took a swig from the bottle. Jack slept at the side of the tent, you had taken the spot in the middle. No matter how long it felt until sleep finally took over, Arthur crawled into the tent ten minutes later, only to find out that you had messed with the sleeping set-up. It wasn’t the way he had arranged it, namely, a very inequal distribution of blankets and ‘pillows’ (rolled-up jackets or other garments). Arthur had planned to spend the night without a blanket, so you and Jack had two. But you had given up one of yours, which neatly waited on Arthur’s bedroll for him.

“She ain’t gonna make this easy for me”, Arthur thought, before lying down.

“Uncle Arthur!”, Jack squatted next to the man who was still fast asleep. Well, until the boy started to shake him with all his might, though it barely rattled the man.

“Aunt y/n told me to wake you”, Jack smiled innocently. Arthur was trying to grasp the situation. For a fleeting moment, he thought there was danger nearby. Then he had been confused about why Jack was there. Only slowly, as Jack left the tent and the rays of sunshine hit his face, he remembered that he had went out camping with you and the boy. And clearly, he had overslept.

Arthur crawled out of the tent and stood up with a groan, stretching his tired limbs. The smell of coffee had reached his nose before he looked down to see Jack walking towards him, a half-filled cup in his hands.

“For you”, he exclaimed. Arthur took the mug and mumbled his thanks, looking up a little to finally lay eyes on you. The fire was on, the percolator boiling with water, and he saw that you were in the process of readying a little pan for some eggs you had apparently taken from camp.

“Good morning”, you said with a big smile.

“Sorry I overslept…”, Arthur grumbled, sitting down by the fire.

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you could catch up on some sleep.”

Breakfast was nice. You scrambled some eggs, garmented them with herbs you had collected earlier and re-filled Arthur’s mug. Jack was happy after eating a few bites and then playing with his toys in the distance. Arthur and you discussed the rest of the day and decided you would take your time, see if Jack was up for a ride and a stroll through Rhodes and spending another night at the Saloon.

Later, Jack helped you with washing the dishes at the creek. You managed to talk him into throwing a wet rag at Arthur, which he answered by throwing the rag back at you. This started a game of dogde or catch the rag. You laughed a lot. By mid-day you were on your horses, carefully navigating the shadows to escape the relentless sun. After one very slow hour of riding, with breaks whenever Jack discovered something interesting on the ground that needed further investigation, you arrived in Rhodes. After restocking on groceries, you made your way to the saloon, finding it relatively quiet and peaceful still.

“Can I help you, folks?”, the bartender asked, leaning on the counter.

“A room, please”, Arthur stated briefly. The bartender considered you for a moment, his eyes wandered from Arthur to you and finally your hand that rested protectively on Jack’s shoulder.

“We have a special deal for families. Spacious room, enough beds and a discount on a bath”, the bartender explained, opening the ledger where he kept track of which rooms were taken.

“Sounds great!”, you chimed in happily before Arthur could do as much as open his mouth.

“There you go. Walk up the stairs behind there, first door on the right”, the bartender handed you the keys, “Just let me know when you want the water heated up.”

“Will do, thanks!”, you answered. Your free arm was quickly intertwined with Arthur, who was taken by surprise. He stiffened a little but walked off with you and Jack rather convincingly.

“Whoa! This bed is huge!”, exclaimed Jack when you walked into the room.

“Ain’t for you though, little man”, Arthur chuckled. The room was equipped with a bed that was big enough to fit a couple and a toddler, but there was still a children-sized one in the corner. Arthur noticed how your arm slipped away from his as you entered the room, dropping some of your luggage onto the floor.

“Luxurious, isn’t it?”, you smiled. It was definitely better than the rooms you’d get in Valentine and probably even cleaner than the other ones the saloon had to offer. Jack was settling in, testing how bouncy his mattress was and unpacking his toys while Arthur walked up to you, clearing his throat.

“Yer fine with sharin’ a bed?”, he asked.

You raised an eyebrow: “We shared a tent last night, and that was a much tighter fit, wouldn’t you say so?”

“I guess…”, Arthur felt a little helpless. Sharing a bed felt more domestic and intimate than sharing the same tent. Also, Jack wouldn’t be all snuggled up to you, but in his own bed at some distance. Frankly, Arthur was excited. You watched his frown, not quite sure if its origin was because of discomfort or simple nervosity.

“Are you okay with that? I could bring my bedroll and-“, you wanted to suggest, but Arthur was quick to interrupt you: “I just didn’t know if you were fine with it. I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable.”

“Don’t worry about me”, you smiled, “I’ll go down and ask for a bath. Abigail will be glad I we bring the boy back cleaner than he was before.”

Arthur was alone in the room for nearly an hour, before you and Jack appeared with damp hair, smelling of soap. It was decided that Arthur would also make use of the warmed-up water, and as he went off to the bathroom, you and Jack set your plan in motion.

By the time Arthur returned he was met with a sight that initially puzzled him. The two of you had transformed the little corner with Jack’s bed using the limited resources available to you, creating a makeshift fort out of pillows and blankets. Jack’s small bed had been turned into a cozy cave of sorts, sheltered from the outside world to the point where you needed a lantern to read a book within.

Arthur didn’t even see you at first, he only heard Jack’s bubbly giggle and you shushing him. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to play along and pretend that he didn’t know where you were…like some sort of hide-and-seek. But he decided against it, instead sighing happily, and sitting down on the big bed.

“I can hear ya, ya know?”, he said gently.

“No you can’t!”, Jack said back.

“Should have built it bigger, doesn’t look like I’ll fit underneath there”, Arthur commented. Now, you peeked out. Arthur saw how you opened a mouth, but something stopped you for a moment. His hair was wet and slicked back. He hadn’t even bothered putting on his shirt, but instead only wore his pants and union suit underneath. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to button it all the way up. It hugged his muscles perfectly. You knew he was in good shape, but you hadn’t expected THIS.

“Shouldn’t have grown so big then”, you finally said, a fine blush on your cheeks.

As the evening advanced, you had read several chapters to Jack, lulling him into slumber. You then quietly slipped into the bed beside Arthur. After some casual conversation which both of you skilfully and awkwardly used to get closer to each other, Arthur asked something that had been on his mind for a while: "What do you get out of it? All the nurturing and caring for everyone in the gang? Has any one of them ever done right by you?"

"Well...I have a place to stay and sleep. I don't have to worry too much about earning money. And I like making others happy."

Arthur didn't like that. A place to sleep and food, he felt like, shouldn't be things you had to earn by listening to the complaints of others all the time.

"All you get is hearing the troubles of some dirty, foolish outlaws. Ain’t really a life, is it?"

"Some make me happy too", you admitted, quietly. You realised how Arthur tensed up slightly.

"I get to know y'all. Don't you think that's a privilege? For a woman my age? Others can't simply walk around in the street, offer some hand-holding a listenin' and expect this to pay for their meals."

"You want to do this for the rest if your life?", Arthur asked. You scanned his body, focusing on the dark hair that grew on his chest.

"No", you whispered, and gently, you put your hand on his chest. You felt his heart, no, you saw how it beat, the skin of his chest swiftly moving in an up and down movement.

Arthur...was different than the others. You didn't know if it was that there was an actual difference, or if it just felt differently. But the way he treated you, the way he held you...it was so gentle. Like it was touch meant for a lifetime. The others were slightly more prudish, because they knew they had a couple of hours with you and maybe they'd be shot and die the next day. Somehow...not Arthur. When he pulled you closer into a hug, it was always the same, as if it was a welcome back, a coming home. There was no holding onto it, because he sorts of knew you would always be there. And you wanted it to be like that too. Because you, as tricky it was to admit, had feelings for this man.

Now it was you who caught Arthur staring, staring at the unsure movements your lips made as you searched for something to say. Maybe to explain what this all meant to you.

"Do you think it's ridiculous, what I do?", you asked. You wanted to know Arthur's opinion, truly.

"What? No."

"Really?"

"Hell, we'd be a bunch of degenerates if ya didn't keep us together. Yer ignoring Micah. For good reasons, I gotta say, and look what a slimy no-good he is. We'd be all like that if it wasn't for you", Arthur said. There was humour in his voice, but he meant what he had said. You smiled slightly.

"I wish I had come to you earlier", Arthur said.

"We are making up for the lost time, aren't we?", you said and leaned into him. The gesture seemed so familiar that Arthur wrapped his arms around you with barely any thought. Arthur watched your fingers as they trailed through his hair on his chest, never resting somewhere for long but tracing lines from his collar bones to where his beard started on his neck.

“Do you mind?”, you whispered, your fingers resting on a button of his suit.

Arthur subtly shook his head and watched how you unbuttoned one button after another. You had him slip out of the sleeves so the suit could be pulled further down, now exposing his entire abdomen to you.

There was no way he could hide his hitched breath. Your touch tickled pleasantly as your fingers explored his skin. He was enjoying those careful attentions, you'd trace around bruises and old scars, Arthur was focused on how it felt differently, the abused flesh and the scar tissue that had lost sensitivity. He noticed, either for the first time ever, or he had forgotten in the meantime, how ticklish he was on his side, under the ribs. He had no urge to laugh, but his body reacted to your touch differently, squirming when your skin brushed over his. Arthur noticed that you took a liking to those reactions, because he felt the corner of your mouth, which was pressed into his arm as you leaned into him, curl into a smile.

It was quiet. Sometimes the yells of a bar fight could be heard or someone hammering on the piano, but that aside, it was only Jack's silent snores that disturbed the peace.

"Arthur?", you whispered and sat up.

"Mhm?", Arthur looked sleepy. It wasn't even that late yet, but something about the situation was making him sleepy in the best way. You said nothing more. You only put your hand on his cheek, briefly caressing his stubble.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?", you asked.

For a few moments, Arthur's mind went completely blank. He only breathed a shaky "Yeah" and your lips brushed his already.

Instantly, Arthur's hands pulled you in closer. You were close, lips brushing, breathing each other's air. It was all you needed, before both of you finally pressed into each other.

You knew Arthur was gentle, but this sort of tenderness took even you by surprise. And Arthur- well, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. When was the last time he had kissed a woman? No, when was the last time he kissed a woman and felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest. He had craved this ever since the night you spent together. And by the way your hands wandered to his hair, fingers running through his strands, he knew you had wanted it just as much.

It was a soft kiss and both of you looked sort of surprised when it had ended. Arthur sat up slightly and pulled you on his lap, which earned him a happy grin. You started to pepper the man in front of you with kisses. Super light, as if a breeze was brushing his forehead, his cheek, his nose, under his ear, the corner of his lips. You had lost count, stirred on by a blushing Arthur underneath you.

"D-don't ya think that's enough?", Arthur said, kind of trying to dodge your kisses, but not really.

"Nope. You deserve this!", you said, but when you headed for his nose, Arthur managed to turn it into a proper kiss again.

Then you sank on his chest, lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around you.

For Arthur, this was a weird feeling at first. But he loved how your weight pressed him down into the mattress and how your hands always found a piece of his body to caress and tickle. He was embarrassed about how dry his mouth and throat became again, all of a sudden. He was convinced you realized how often he had to swallow and how hesitant he still was to move his hands any further down than the small of your back. Though if you noticed, you were very understanding. You clearly heard his heart hammering in his chest and waited patiently for it to calm down before speaking again.

"Can I tell you something silly?”, you said, lost in thoughts.

"Sure"

"I liked it when the bartender referred to us as family."

"Me too", and his hold on you became ever so tighter.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

@eyelovie @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @daenerysluvrr @cookiesandcreaminthetardis @tem60 @freshoutthewomb2 @itswormtrain @ineedyoubadly @lea-khena @anawkwardartistandgamer @pheesupremacy @tahitiansiguesss @c2ss1e @alyxhasonsocks @kagemaruzest69 @agaritas @lonesome-ranger @joelmillers-gf

#arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption community #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction

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kingconia · 8 months

Text

VIL SCHOENHEIT, LEONA KINGSCHOLAR AND MALLEUS DRACONIA WITH READER, WHO IS ALWAYS IGNORED BY THEIR FATHER...

(...Who happens to be the headmaster himself.)

Bonus points: reader studies in the Diasomnia.

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— When he heard for the first time that the new student of the Diasomnia, is the children of the Dire Crowley, he had a very low expectations, to be honest. Not like he hated on you beforehand or something, more like he was too aware of headmaster's character...

— So, he was pleasantly surprised to see that you are completely the opposite of your father. Responsible, hardworking—if not for you being a crow yourself, and having the same surname, he would never guess that you were raised by this man;

— However... It was clear as day that the reason why you had nothing common with him, was because he hardly payed attention to you. You tried so hard by studying diligently and achieving the first places in different school contests, and yet... He didn't really care?

— Malleus had never met his father, but Lilia made sure he would never feel neglected in the way you were. And the mistreatment towards you hurt him even more, than it hurt you.

•

”Shit,” you groaned, baring your teeth in unhidden displeasure. ”Headmaster will not approve seeing that that these students broke the window.”

Malleus gazed at you curiously—both of you were sitting on the roof, talking about everything and nothing—and the question left his lips by itself.

”We are all alone. Why are you still calling him a headmaster?”

As you brought knees to your chest, resting your chin on them, you shrugged. With voice impassive and eyed cold, you explained:

”I don't have a particular way to call him. He is either headmaster or Crowley. So...”

Malleus's heart squeezed instantly of the thought of that.

It sounded so unbelievable.

He grew up witnessing how gentle Lilia was to Silver, and how the latter called him a father. Their bond, a sincere and tight one, was always an example for Malleus of how families should like. And here you were, ignored by a man, who was the reason you were in this world. How unfair.

”Y/n?”

Malleus thought, if you asked him to fulfill your wish—to make your father love you—he would. Without a doubt.

”Yes?”

But for some reasons, you never do.

”I hope, you understand, a precious raven of mine, that Diasomnia is your family, too.”

So, he can only offer you an alternative. An alternative, where you need to accept that despite not having your father's love, you had all of them—him, Lilia, Silver and Sebek.

”...Thank you for that. I... I try to keep that in mind.”

Yet, you still need some time to comprehend that.

He could wait. They all will.

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— He was naturally suspicious of you. It is not a secret that Vil hates privileged kids—such as Leona, for example—and for him, it was logical that you were the one, too;

— However, he started to doubt about that after observing you more closely;

— You never skipped lectures, always did your homework and participated actively in the classes. And not only that! Your achievements weren't passing through him—he was quite aware of all your wins in competitions, and a good reputation;

— So, to the moment, when you came to ask for his help for your talent show, Vil already admitted to himself, that despite having a privilege, you were a high achiever, who knew how to work. But, oh, little did he knew, that you were an opposite to the privileged person...

•

“Y/n-san,” Vil frowned deliberately, glaring at you with a genuine concern in his eyes, ”I think, you should take a little rest. Please.”

With your shoulders shaking, hands being red, and legs hardly keeping you up, you looked awful.

Vil knew how exhaustion looked—he wore it on himself all the time, after all—and he could say for sure, you were too close to the meltdown. If not to the overbolt...

”I can't. I should try harder,” you murmured, voice raspy. ”Only this way I can...”

The desperation in your eyes were so familiar that Vil almost flinched from it. Carefully, afraid of doing the wrong choice, he put hands on your shoulders, squeezing them softly.

”Y/n-san, you are one of the best students of our school. Even more, you are standing on the same place in the world, along with Leona and Malleus,” he reminded, lips slightly brushing your hair as he spoke. ”What else are you trying to achieve?”

”His attention, of course!" A sob that escaped your lips were too gut-wrenching to hear. ”What else I can need, if not a father?”

Vil didn't even try to conceal his own genuine sadness as he heard you saying that. Almost instinctively, he hugged you tightly, allowing to hide in the crook of his neck.

It was the moment, when he regretted that his assumptions about you being spoiled, were wrong. It would be much healthier for you, if he was right.

”Oh, darling,” he whispered gently. ”Cry all you like. You are allowed to.”

And so, you did.

When on the next morning you pretended that nothing happened, Vil wasn't mad at you for that. If anything, he was merely happy that he was able to help you for a while.

...If only you understood how worthy you are.

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— The unbothered king had only two complaints to you, and both of them sounded ridiculous. Because, he was unhappy with you being a part of Diasomnia, and he couldn't settle with a fact that you were a crow. The end of the story;

— Leona truly couldn't care less about you or your father. What he cared was the fact that you were a powerful rival in the Spelldrive Tournament, and he was slightly bitter to losing both to you and your housewarden;

— Overall, he respected you. And that was why when you offered him to play chess together, he didn't say no. Since that, you became close, always playing together, in the same time and place;

— As Leona became closer to you, he obviously realised that your family relationships were fucked up—takes one neglected kid to recognise the other—but, decided not to pry out. If you want to talk about it, you will. Otherwise, he will not do anything.

•

”Huh?”

Leona blinked, not caring to mask his astonishment as he saw you sitting in the botanical garden, with chess board being set up, ready for another game.

”Hi, Leona,” you raised your head at him slowly. ”You are late.”

He weren't late, he just didn't know that you will be here.

The school was on the winder holidays, and the prevailing amount of students already left to their houses. As far as Leona had heard, the headmaster was the first one to leave, since he had a special vacation somewhere in the Shifts. Of course, Leona expected you to go there with him.

”...What are you doing here?” He asked bluntly. ”Shouldn't be you on holidays, or something?”

”My house is too empty,” you shrug, the slight frown indicating your irritation by this question. ”I decided, it would be better to stay.”

”...And the vacation?”

”Oh, Crowley never takes me with himself,” you huffed easily.

Leona had no idea that your relationship was that bad. Even Falena always invited him everywhere, just in case if Leona suddenly decides to agree.

”Well?” You rushed him. ”Are you going to play with me?”

There was nothing Leona could say to console you, words never being his strongest quality. But as he slowly made his way to the armchair, he couldn't help but being hit by the wave of the sheer madness towards your father.

How could anyone neglect such an ambitious and perfect kid as you?

”If I win, you are celebrating New Year with me,” Leona finally spoke up, moving the white piece of chess.

Well, it didn't matter. Not like Dire Crowley deserved you anyway.

”And if I do?”

”Then, I am celebrating New Year with you.”

You smiled at him, before concentrating on the game

”How cruel. I am in.”

He couldn't help but feel proud that the smile on your face was his doing.

Perhaps, you had not the best father, but... At least, Leona will make sure, that you will have a perfect holidays for once.

And that was fine, too.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit #malleus draconia x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #dire crowley

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cumikering · 5 months

Text

Keegan Russ x reader

3.5k | fluff, second chance, childhood friends

You matched with Keegan on Tinder

@glitterypirateduck’s holiday challenge, inspired by I Don’t Do Drugs by Doja Cat

“No way.” You shook your head. “Not Keegan goddamn Russ.” You chuckled as you stared at his profile.

It had been over 15 years since you saw him last. His teeth might have been straight, bowl cut replaced by a far more fitting fade cut, but his sharp blue eyes and easy smile remained. They were unmistakable.

This dude hadn’t crossed your mind in years, but you were pleasantly surprised to see he’d grown to be a tall and athletic Marine. You hated to admit that he got hot, even that not having a stupid haircut wasn’t a very high bar to begin with.

You zeroed in on his smile again. He was attractive and he knew it. He couldn’t have been there for anything serious.

You laughed to yourself. “What the hell,” you said and swiped right on him.

At the other end of town, Keegan laid in bed, swiping mindlessly on his phone. Left… Left… Oh!? … Yeah, another left… Until his hand froze when he saw your card.

“Goddamn,” he muttered as he rolled to his side, clutching his phone. Where the hell were you all this time?

He took his time ogling your photos. The first one was a full body picture, your figure on display in your tight jeans. The second was a selfie, your eyes bright, donning a brilliant smile and glossy lips. The last two were group photos. He loved your style – comfortable yet tasteful. Your genuine laughter and the twinkle in your eye as you sat among your friends mesmerised him.

Okay, so you were the life of the party.

Keegan often worried about not having enough to say and preferred chattier dates who’d lead the conversation. Evidently, he didn’t have to worry about that with you… Because you probably wouldn’t even look at him twice. With looks like that, you could have anyone.

He lied on his back and gawked at your selfie again, biting his lip.

“What the hell,” he said to himself and swiped right.

He nearly dropped his phone on his face when it chimed right away. It’s a match! He gasped.

He stared at the empty chat window, fingers drumming on his thigh as he contemplated what to say. He wished he had more game.

After a minute, he settled with a simple Hi, hope you’re doing alright :) are you from the area?

You seemed a little quiet the first day of texting, but he’d expected that, a usual occurrence in his endeavour. Keegan didn’t relent, coming up with discussions, although some he had to admit were rather lame. Soon, you asked him specific questions about himself, allowing the conversation to pour throughout the days. He stopped thinking too hard when replying.

As it turned out, you were from the same hometown. You went to different high schools, but had a few mutual friends, although none he knew anymore. He barely kept in contact with anyone back home safe for the handful of his close high school friends.

Now that he reached for his phone far more often on base, grinning at that, it took no time for people to notice the newfound habit.

“We need to tell command someone’s hardly working.” Ajax nudged Kick, nodding at Keegan at the far end of the rec room. “He keeps looking at that one selfie.”

He chuckled. “If it’s too good to be true, it probably is. Don’t get catfished, bro.”

“Or ghosted.” Ajax roared in laughter. He had no business sounding so proud of his pun.

Keegan’s eyes narrowed at them before looking back down at his phone. He wasn’t going to let his buddies stop him from sending you the What kind of bread are you? quiz.

At night, it’d also become a routine to text. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but it grew to be the highlight of his day. He could unwind and laugh with you without having to wait long to have you text back. His bed felt less empty, a little less cold.

“I’d really like to meet you. You’re wonderful,” he said longingly at his phone.

He knew he wanted to after the third day, but didn’t initiate a date in fear of moving too fast and appalling you. But after over a week, with his next deployment inching closer, he’d grown impatient and a bit mad at himself for overthinking the matter. He didn’t remember asking anyone on a date being that unnerving.

Unprompted, your name flashed across his screen, sending his heart racing. Keegan sat up and cleared his throat before answering.

“Hey,” he said with as much smoothness as he could muster.

“Hi, Keegan.”

He could hear the smile in your voice, and he prayed he had even a fraction of the effect you had on him, on you.

“I was wondering if you’re into soccer?”

His brows furrowed. Hell no, he wasn’t at all.

“You want to watch the World Cup screening with me Saturday night?”

But for you? Well for you, he was the biggest fan in town.

“Sure,” he answered immediately. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was it Christmas already?

“For dinner, there’s a taco truck I like near the sports bar, if you’d like to try.”

He tried not to smile too much, but he was failing miserably. He was two seconds away from puking out the butterflies in his stomach.

“Sounds great,” he breathed. “I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

“Me too.” Your easy voice calmed him.

Kick’s comment crossed his mind. He stilled for a moment and decided he didn’t care what you looked like. The little of you he got to know the past week was enough to get him hooked.

“Well, I only wanted to ask that. I’m going to bed.”

“So soon?”

You let out a small laugh. Oh, he wanted to stay on the phone all night.

“Talk to you again tomorrow, okay? Send me more quizzes.”

After you hung up, he bit down a silly grin as he pulled up your photos again.

The following night, struck with a sudden burst of confidence, Keegan called when you were both in bed. He’d expected the pauses on his end (which was why he always preferred texting), but you didn’t seem to mind. At least he knew you weren’t opposed to talking to him. You stayed on the line for half an hour, your laughter lulled his reeling mind.

Saturday couldn’t have come sooner. He’d shaved that morning and put on some cologne before taking way too long to pick an outfit. He hoped it didn’t look like he was trying too hard.

You declined his offer to pick you up. He didn’t take it personally - he was a patient man after all. But when he’d arrived a little too early, he started to lose his cool the longer he leaned on the streetlamp.

He had to do a double take when he caught sight of you walking towards him. Oh, look at the way you lit up, your smile the same brilliant one like in your photos. You were in those delightful jeans again, your hair bouncing to your steps. He straightened up and met you halfway.

“Hi,” you said when you got to him.

“Hey.” His smile didn’t waver. “You look great.”

You took the words out of his lips, the words that he already had so few of. This was the opposite of catfish because you were far prettier in real life. He needed you to hold his hand because he wasn’t going to look where he was going.

He couldn’t wait to brag to Kick and Ajax.

You looked up at him, eyes bright. “Thank you. You look nice yourself.”

He followed you to join the short queue. He stole a glance as you ordered.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the cook, giving your hand a gentle nudge when you tried to pay.

First skin contact. Innocent enough.

But why did it get so warm all of a sudden? He hoped he wasn’t sweating. Fuck, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he shove them in his pockets? How close was the acceptable distance to stand next to you?

Well, he certainly stood close enough for you to catch a faint waft of his cologne.

You meant it when you said he looked good. He wore a light jacket over a black shirt, light washed jeans and sneakers. His jet black hair was styled, a little longer than in his photos. The way he stood with his hands in his pockets accentuated his build, his watch a nice touch.

Sure, curiosity got you at first. It quickly came to light that he didn’t recognise you – granted you used a nickname – but you found it amusing nonetheless. You didn’t even mean it to get that far but after talking to him, you couldn’t help but want more.

Dating was always daunting; putting your heart on the line like that rendered you vulnerable. It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate – his company was delightful, but whatever you had between you felt stagnant. You thought your initial assumption was right: he wasn’t looking for anything more. Was this a mistake after all?

You sat on the bench nearby, the drinks between you. You took two bites before you stalled.

Your face twisted. “Why’s this hot?”

“Is it? Mine isn’t at all.”

“It is ridiculously hot.” You blinked the tears away.

“Can’t be. Let me try.”

You handed him the taco, instead he grabbed your wrist and leaned in for a bite.

He gave you an amused smile. “It’s not hot at all. Here, I’ll have yours.”

By now, a few drops of sweat had broken out of your forehead. You didn’t question it when he swapped the paper plates on your thighs and took a huge bite.

It wasn’t supposed to be hot! This was so uncool, at your first meeting at that. Your gaze trained on the ground as you took a small bite of his which actually tasted normal. When you looked up, it was his turn to frown.

“Wait. It is.” He put the taco down. ”It is hot.”

“I told you!”

“Oh God. Oh shit,” he hissed, scrambling for his drink. “Why is it so hot?”

You stifled a giggle. “They must have put the wrong sauce in mine, because yours tastes fine.”

“My tongue had never known such pain. What the hell is in this thing?” He continued gulping down his drink. “Oh no, it’s getting worse.” He sniffled before shoving the last half into his mouth.

“You know you don’t have to eat it, right?” You busted into laughter as he chew with all his might. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

His brows knitted, the agony in his watery eyes as clear as day. You handed him a serviette.

“That’s inhumane, but I’m a man of my word,” he said between hisses, wiping at his forehead. “My mouth is on fire. I need to inhale fire extinguisher.”

You could only offer him your drink which he gladly chugged. Still giggling, you finished your meal before making your way to the bar.

“I’m sorry, that was really embarrassing.” He grimaced through his drying tears, forehead still damp. “But at least you’re laughing. I like it when you laugh.”

You wanted to kiss him right then.

Keegan was the first man to make you willingly lose sleep in a long time, but his inaction didn’t sit right with you. Self-doubt inevitably crept up - maybe you simply weren’t his type, but you were too hooked to not at least shoot your shot despite your mounting fear of rejection. Your heart lodged in your throat when you called him that night.

Oh but his voice was so calm and soothing, and what for? He got you hanging onto every word - some straight up sounded like he was purring. Like now, he had to lean in closer and closer to talk over the noise as the bar continued to fill up. The deep rumble of his laughter so close in your ear got you biting your lip.

You didn’t want to like him so much, but here you were smiling non-stop the past hour. He’d taken his jacket off, his sturdy arms on display as he lied back. Now that was the highlight of his outfit. It didn’t help that he kept looking at you like that either; blue eyes piercing, brows striking with a cool smile.

It was unfair how effortlessly charming he was, like it was simply an unfortunate by product of being Keegan Russ, like he didn’t even mean it.

Well, evidently, Keegan was literally sweating about the humiliating incident. He sincerely hoped you wouldn’t excuse yourself to the bathroom to stand him up, but the smile hadn’t left your pretty face ever since. That was a good sign right?

Halfway into the first half, he extended his arm along the back of your seat, eyes still on the screen pretending to not notice the way your lips curled in amusement. You dragged your chair against his, thighs touching now. His fist clenched when you placed your hand on his knee.

He was secretly glad this was your first date – if he could even call it that. At least there was no pressure to keep making conversation and he could focus on your company, which he thoroughly enjoyed thus far. Was wrapping his arm around your waist an appropriate next move? He itched to be closer.

“How long have you been on Tinder?” You turned to him during halftime.

“A few months now.”

“Any luck?”

He looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t get a lot of matches, and when I do - even after many weeks of talking… Well as it turned out, people just aren’t very interested in dating long distance.”

When his eyes flicked up and met your sympathetic look, he wondered if he shouldn’t have been so honest.

“You? Any luck so far?” he asked quickly.

“I went on a few dates with someone who looked an awful lot like my first crush.” You let out a small laugh. “But that’s all. It didn’t work out.”

A speck of jealousy flickered in his chest. “Tell me about him. Your first crush.”

“Well, I was a late bloomer. It was in high school, he was a sophomore when I was a freshman.”

“Handsome dude?”

“Yes, but I actually never spoke to him.” You tilted your head and smiled. “Well, I did once, kind of. I don’t know what possessed me, but one day I walked up to him and gave him a bar of chocolate. He said thanks, and that was it.”

You looked over him. The crowd had started to move towards the bar

“I’ll get us more drinks before the wait gets too long.” You stood up.

Keegan perked up; he wasn’t going to miss his chance. When you came back, he’d mustered all his courage to tug on your wrist in the direction of his parted thighs. There was a glint in your eye as you indulged and he snaked his arm behind you, hand on his knee. You had a playful smile on your lips when you moved it to your waist and wrapped your arm around his neck.

He leaned onto your shoulder, his chest pressing against your side. He watched the way your eyes transfixed on the screen, how your glass would freeze against your lower lip at times. He couldn’t help smiling when you tensed up whenever someone got close to scoring a goal. His other arm wrapped around your waist.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off you when the bar erupted in cheers. You turned to him with a proud grin. Oh, your lips were just right there. He wasn’t going to survive the night.

Your favourite team won and you left the bar beaming. You were glad he offered to walk you home because you still wanted his presence. Your fingers curled around his forearm.

“I didn’t get to ask about your first crush.”

He chuckled to himself. “We were in fifth grade.”

“You ever told her?”

He shook his head. “She hated me. My friends used to tease her about her weight. I didn’t join in but I hung around anyway. I guess when you’re young you do dumb things to fall in.”

You remembered the raucous boys he hung out with.

“Over the summer, I convinced myself to finally say something, but she’d moved away.”

Had he not looked at where you were going, he’d have seen the shock on your face. Your heart skipped a beat. Is he talking about me?

“What was she like?”

“My memory’s fuzzy now, but she had two other girlfriends they teased too but she always stood up for them. Oh, was sassy too.” He smiled. “I used to stand around to overhear her jokes. If I laughed along, she’d stare me down until I left.”

You laughed, too hard for someone who supposedly wasn’t involved in the story. You remembered that too, the way prepubescent Keegan Russ and his dumb bowl cut scrambled away when you gave him bombastic side eye.

You couldn’t believe it. He had a crush on you?

“I think had I spoken up, we’d have been good friends.” He glanced at you with a smile. “You know, when I heard she’d moved away, I came home crying and my mum smacked me upside the head. Told me not to hang around with the shithead boys anymore.”

You stopped in your tracks and took your hand off his arm. “You really don’t recognise me?”

He turned to you, brows furrowed. “What?”

“You used to paste Superman stickers on my Barbie backpack.”

Keegan’s eyes widened. He turned away, a hand over his face, laughing out of pain. No fucking way. He wanted to disappear.

You chuckled. “A new one whenever I managed to peel the previous one off. Said they were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t recognise you at all.” He lowered his hand. “But you don’t even have the same name?”

“It’s the internet. You’re the weird one for using your real name.”

His brows rose. “You knew it was me all along?”

“Right away.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” He shook his head. “That’s just mean.”

“Was wondering if you remembered, but we were kids. I’m not surprised you didn’t recognise me or forgot.”

The corner of his lips pulled. “Well, I didn’t forget.” And probably won’t. You haven’t left my mind the past week.

And that voice was back, of course. He definitely knew what he was doing, and still you couldn’t get enough.

“Wait, no. Is this it?” He frowned. “Did you talk to me the entire time- meet me just for this?”

“No! No. I wanted to see you.” The edge in his voice stung more than you expected. “I… I didn’t think you’d even want to, because you didn’t make a move.”

His cold eyes searched yours, making your heart ache. If only he knew how much he made you smile, how many times a day you wished he’d replied when you checked your phone. You never wanted to see that pain in his face again.

“Please don’t lead me on,” he finally said, his gaze softening. “Not when you know you don’t want this.”

You wanted to hold him. “I promise I won’t. I know it’s early to say, but I want to try.”

He took a small step towards you. “Are you sure you like me?”

Suddenly he was once again the young Keegan who couldn’t meet your eyes, asking if you wanted to share the last of his favourite chocolate with him.

“Are you?”

“Positive.” His icy blues were back on you. You saw the wary hopefulness in them.

You closed the gap, arms wrapping around his waist. You let out a small sigh as your head rested on his shoulder.

“May I see you again?” He pulled you closer, his voice lighter now. “I want to go on a date. A real one, with my first crush with the death stare.”

You laughed against his neck.

Keegan hated getting ahead of himself, not knowing how many more times his hopes could be shattered before the shards got to small to meet again. But as he held you, he let his mind drift, just a little further, just this time.

With his eyes closed, he thought that maybe in the future - perhaps soon enough, someone would be waiting at the base to welcome him back with a smile and an embrace just like this.

More Keegan: fake dating, werewolf AU

A/N: I think the song represents the uncertainty in the initial stages of falling, when you keep trying to swallow the hopefulness, cautious of each other’s intentions as to not get hurt. It takes bravery handing your heart over to a stranger, unsure if they’ll just stomp on your feelings or be the best thing ever.

@sofasoap @b1rds3ye @macravishedbymactavish @shadofireshinobi @two-gh0sts

#codholiday2023 #call of duty #cod #cod fanfic #keegan x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ x you #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod fluff #call of duty fluff #keegan russ fluff #keegan russ #keegan p russ #brian bloom u my fave tuker tambah dong

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wehaveimagineshere · 7 months

Note

Request for Frost! Could I request dating headcanons for Wyll, Gale, Halsin, and Astarion with gender neutral s/o?

Yes of course! This will be under the cut bc it’s long lmao

Wyll

• Wyll is very shy as first but once you get to know each other it’s like you’ve been long lost lovers who have finally found each other again

• He’ll want to dance with you at all times of day, whether there’s music or not. The dancing will start off as fun and free but quickly turn into slow and loving

• He’ll want to sleep besides you when you’re at camp. Cuddling up to you with the excuse to keep you warm

• Absolutely loves love loves to hold your hand

• He’ll tell you stories about his life before being taken by the mind flayers. How he was sent to kill Karlach and regrets his decision of making that deal with Mizora. How he wishes things could be different

• But you tell him that if he didn’t do all that, you never would’ve met. Never would’ve fallen in love. And you love exactly who he is, dark past, horns, and all

• Wyll would want to help train you in the art of swordsmanship so that you can protect yourself if he’s not right beside you. He’ll ask you to teach him how to make potions in return

• When you’re in Baldur’s Gate he’ll show you around the streets he used roam when he was younger. Taking you to secret little hideouts and eating at mom and pop shops

• He’ll kiss you under the stars and the moon and whisper into your ear how much he loves you and he’s so incredibly happy he had the chance to meet you. How grateful he is that you chose him

• In a couple years when the tadpoles are out of your head and Mizora no longer has any control over his soul, he’ll ask you to marry him

Gale

• We all know how much of a flirt Gale is when he first meets you. At first you would ignore the things he says and think that’s just who he is

• Which is partly true, but as you get to know him you realize how genuine he is when caring for other people. The lengths he’ll go to keep his loved ones safe

• When you learn of his condition you feel a deep sense of worry. And when he tells you that the items are no longer working to keep him stable, you want to cry. How could this sweet man be so dumb to do something as drastic as that for someone who treated him so poorly

• That’s when you realize that you might actually love him. When you start to take his flirtations more seriously

• When you start to flirt back, Gale is pleasantly surprised

• He’ll start to bring you flowers he freshly picked and make sure you’re eating well at camp

• He’ll realize that he genuinely loves you, more than he ever loved Mystra, when you get seriously hurt fighting the Hag. You’re nearly on your death bed and he’s crying besides you wishing that he learned it sooner

• After Shadowheart manages to stabilize you, Gale never leaves your side. The only time he does is when he needs to bring you things

• What he thought was love with Mystra was completely different than the love he has for you. While he does obsess with you, it’s not the toxic obsession he had before. He wants to be better for you, but you’ve helped him believe that he is perfect the way he is and he does not need to go to such lengths to make himself feel adequate. Just being beside you and loving you to his fullest is all that you need

• Gale absolutely loves it when you lay your head in his lap while he reads. He’ll read the books to you but smiles to himself when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep

• You make sure to never put yourselves in a situation where he feels the need to self destruct

•The way he looks at you is like he believes you hold the entire world in the palm of your hand

Halsin

• Oh boy this man, this perfect, fine piece of specimen is going to treat you so well you’re almost immediately falling in love

• First saving his people and also his close friend? The big bear was seeing you in a different light than he had before

• He felt something strong for you and he wanted to see where it goes

• When he told you that he was poly, he was pleasantly surprised when you said you support him. You even said you were yourself

• He would bring handsome men and beautiful women for you both to have a night of passion with. You would also do the same. The others in your party would slowly move their tents further and further away from you so that they could try to drown out the noises and sleep

• Sometimes you would even go to a brothel together and forget about your worries and just enjoy yourselves

• He loves to take you out on nature walks and even turn into a bear and have you ride on his back. His broad back carried you perfectly and you loved the feeling of his soft fur between your fingers

• You’d find a small pond with ducks and really start to fall in love with this man. Seeing how gentle he was with these tiny animals warmed your heart

• At one point in your relationship he started feeling really protective over you. Especially when some people in Baldur’s Gate started insulting you straight to your face

• He didn’t like the fact that you just accepted it without fighting back

• So he fought back for you and anyone who would insult you would run with their tail between their legs. They don’t call him daddy bear for no reason

• He loved that he was falling in love. And especially since it was with you. Someone to kind and beautiful

• He would always go wherever nature would take him. And nature took him to you

• After everything was settled, both decided to go off on your own adventure together, and you’ll be together and in love for as long as time shall allow

Astarion

• We’re going with unascended Astarion lol

• Astarion was very hesitant at first. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love. He was supposed to use you so that you would never betray him

• But through time and many hardships you showed him what it was like to genuinely care for someone. And that terrified him. But for you he was willing to try anything

• Skinship and affection was foreign to him and sometimes not welcome. Living with the trauma he had to endure makes it difficult for him to accept true love and not revert back to his old ways

• But being with you and having you reassure him that everything was okay helped him overcome his trauma bit by bit

• After quite some time he would find himself craving your touch. To the point where he would actively seek you out to wrap his arms around you and bury his face in your neck

• He would do this in private or in public he didn’t care

• Constantly stares at you in wonder of how you, the most beautiful and perfect creature he has ever had the pleasure of knowing, could possibly love someone or something like him

• He would want to take out out on little dates by seeing beautiful sceneries or watching a play. All the while always holding your hand

• He would still drink your blood nightly but would always be careful about how much he took. The first time he almost killed you by taking too much haunts him to this day

• It made him feel warm seeing the way you were with the animals in your party. Always petting and kissing them. He would get jealous tho when you paid more attention to them than to him

• After the fight with Cazador, he grew depressed knowing that he would never be able to feel the warmth of sunlight, or see you bask in the sun with beautiful scenery around you ever again

• In the 200 years he was cursed to live in the shadows, you came and showed him what it was like to live in the light again. And for that he’s grateful

• So with all of the knowledge and power he has, he’s going to try to find a way to get rid of this curse and be able to live with you in the light once again

#anoynmous #gale x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #halsin x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 wyll #bg3 halsin #bg3 #admin Frost

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yoisami · 8 months

Text

˚₊‧୨୧˚ SWEET ENCOUNTERS !

[૮₍ ˃ࡇ˂ ₎ა]: meet cutes with your favourite bllk boy ! but of course, in a high school setting bc i’m a sucker for high school romance >:)

tags. isagi, kunigami, nagi, kaiser, reo, rin x gn!reader (separately), 1793 wc, idk what genre but no sad stuff hehe, first interactions, uh idk why reo and rin’s ones are so long lol, reader is called ‘pretty’ in kaiser’s, ooc mb ??, somewhat proofread ig

ISAGI YOICHI — (deskmates)

it was monday when your teacher decided to switch up the seating arrangements, and she scribbled all your names on slips of paper that were thrown into a hat. one by one, your friends were getting paired together, and you were pleasantly surprised when your name was called with isagi’s name.

you’ve never really talked to him before, and the two of you didn’t have any classes in common. but, you knew that he was popular amongst your female classmates—they often giggled over his smiles and compliments.

you acknowledged that he was handsome, relatively popular, and a charismatic individual, but in all honesty, you didn’t find anything special about him.

but when you brought your belongings to your allocated desk, isagi graced you with a smile that reminded you of the violet petunias in the school garden as he motioned to the empty desk besides him.

“you can take the window seat. enjoy the sight when it’s raining—i think it’s quite pretty.”

in this particular moment, you were beginning to understand why your friends have always appreciated his character.

like a flower in spring, something about isagi made him...

“thanks, isagi. i’ll make sure to.”

...alluring.

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE — (voluntary assistance)

given that your school’s volleyball coach had recently sprained his ankle and was now on crutches, your heart couldn’t bear to see him struggle to bring the equipment into the gym. so, as manager of the school’s volleyball team, you didn’t even have to think twice before providing the coach some assistance.

but now it was your turn to struggle. to save yourself some time, you stacked two crates together and carried them to the gym at the same time. admittedly, it was a little hard—you were peering past the crates to see.

“h-hey! i’ll help you!”

confused, you looked behind you to find that kunigami was running towards you. behind him, you can see his friends following him from a distance, and he quickly removed the crates from your hold, taking them into his hands instead.

“o-oh wait! i’ll take one.”

kunigami simply let out a friendly chuckle as he shook his head. “it’s all good. they’re not heavy. heading to the gym?”

considering that no one else has helped you bring the volleyballs, and you were just a couple steps away from the building, you genuinely appreciated kunigami’s chivalry as he waited for your answer.

“yeah.” you returned his smile. “thanks.”

NAGI SEISHIRO — (project partners)

unfortunately for you, nagi was placed in your group for the upcoming group project.

“nagi? we’d appreciate it if you could also help us research.”

initially, you were rather excited to work on this new psychology project. but with nagi seishiro in your group, who’s only ever been seen sleeping in your classes, you’re not so sure anymore.

“i’ll do it later,” he mumbled, nestling his head into his arms. your friend besides you rolled her eyes, jokingly raising her fist towards him once nagi had closed his eyes.

it was infuriating that he was unwilling to cooperate with you and your friend, considering that this was a group project, and not a solo task. what put you off even more was that your teacher has decided to assess you all as a group rather than individually.

you weren’t going to let nagi seishiro’s idleness bring your grade down.

“we don’t have time to research later, nagi. we actually have to carry out the experiment next lesson,” you stated firmly. your vexation was stained in your tone, yet the boy refused to read the room.

adjusting his head to look at you, nagi yawned. “stop stressing out, [name]. this isn’t even worth that mu—”

“it’s worth forty percent of our final grade, nagi. just because you don’t care about your marks doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t care about ours,” you hissed bitterly, snapping your laptop shut.

as you slapped the briefing paper before him, nagi stared straight at you. “i hope that you’ll come to realise that a group project requires everyone’s efforts—and that includes you.”

MICHAEL KAISER — (money’s on the line)

for him to win the twenty euros that were on the line, the condition was that kaiser must flirt with the next person who walks into the classroom for a week, strictly.

and it was you who happened to have walked in after the bet was established.

“hey, [name]!” kaiser jumped off the desk he was sitting on as he approached you with a look on his face that clearly meant he was up to no good. “what class do you have next?”

you thought for a while before you returned to your seat, with kaiser tailing behind you. “history, i think.”

the boy simply nodded his head as he dragged a nearby chair besides you, comfortably inviting himself to be near you. “cool. want me to walk you there?”

considering that he offered to walk you to your next class, which is something completely out of the norm (you’ve hardly ever talked to him before), you gave him a confused look. with his tie loosely hung around his neck and the top buttons of his shirt deliberately undone to reveal a tiny portion of his physique, his appearance was enough for you to identify him as someone you shouldn’t associate with.

“...what?”

kaiser leant in closer with a smirk that was a trademark of his persona. “i’ll walk you to history. just in case you get lonely, y’know?”

“uh, no, than—”

“i’ll walk you. it’s not every day that i get to walk someone as pretty as you to class.”

MIKAGE REO — (playing messenger)

you failed to contain your sigh when your female classmate asked you for a favour—to give her confession letter that had little pink hearts littered over the envelope to mikage reo.

when you said no to her request, her only rebuttal was that you seemed to be acquainted with him (you weren’t). but you’ve watched her hesitate to give the envelope when he walked past her before, and since you still had some sort of compassion in you, you finally acceded. of course, you asked for something in return: the most expensive drink from the vending machine.

and now, with her letter in your hands, you peered from the classroom door as you located your target. the fact that he was surrounded by a relatively large number of his peers made you choke on your own saliva. and god—you were going to look like one of his dumb fangirls who usually confess with a bag of heart-shaped cookies or a love letter (you’d be in the latter category).

slipping the letter in your pocket, you approached him and grabbed his attention by patting his shoulder.

as reo turned around, waiting for you to ask your question, all his friends grew silent, gazing at you with disparaging eyes.

“could you come out for a second? i just need to give you something.”

and he nodded his head as he left his friends with you. scanning the hallway left and right, you and reo stood behind the classroom door.

“here,” you murmured, passing the envelope to him. ignoring the amused spark in his eyes, you cut him off with a raised hand before he could speak. “let me clarify—this is not from me. a classmate asked me to pass this to you.”

reo chuckled as he flipped the envelope over. “you don’t have to lie, y’know. i’ve received many confession bef—”

“since it seems like i wasn’t clear enough before, let me say it again—i’m not interested in you.”

and with that, you turned your heel to retrieve the drink your classmate owes you as reo hopes to see you around these halls again.

ITOSHI RIN — (athlete meets artist)

as a prominent member of the school’s art club, you were in charge of welcoming guests into the art room that the art teacher had meticulously decorated. even if you were slightly embarrassed to have some of your artwork pinned up on the walls, you took pride in your pieces as they were all a product of your passions and desires.

while the art room was not as popular as the plays and cafes that were set up in other classrooms, there were still a few people who visited with the intention of appreciating the intricate sculpture made by the captain of the art club.you expected your friends to visit (and they did), as did some of the second-year students you were acquainted with, but you definitely didn’t expect itoshi rin to walk in, mindlessly observing the room.

as you got up from your seat, you greeted rin with a polite smile.

“are you interested in painti—”

“no. i just have nothing to do right now,” he said curtly, passing you. as rin roamed around, browsing the drawings with one quick glance, his eyes landed on your painting. it was displayed right in the centre of all the other artworks, with a colour scheme that was much different from all the other paintings.

you struggled to hide your grin when rin paused to examine your art piece (you were happy to see another person acknowledging your art). “do you like it, itoshi?”

you pretended to brush off the awkwardness that embraces you as you’re met with silence. rin doesn’t respond for a while as he’s seemingly studying the brushstrokes on your painting. “what’s the point of doing this?”

you pondered over this question for a brief moment before you responded, tracing your fingertips over the edge of your painting. “because it’s fun, in my opinion. you can tell a story by creating an artwork using different colours and mediums, so it’s great for someone who might not be great with their words.”

“but doing all this...” he said, hovering his finger over the details on your painting. “looks like a lot of effort. i wouldn’t be bothered.”

“i suppose,” you shrugged, turning to face rin properly. “itoshi, you play soccer, right?”

rin finally looked at you, responding to your question with a terse “hmm”.

“it’s like you with soccer, i guess. every day, just like you, i’m also refining my skills so i can prove to my family that i’m an exceptional artist. then maybe they’ll let me fulfil my dream of going to art school.”

reaching for the tidy pile of art brochures you organised, you handed rin a copy as you spoke. “for you, all this may seem tedious. but for me, this is what i love. and i’m willing to spend years on this if it means that i can be one of the best artists in japan.”

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another-lost-mc · 11 months

Text

SIMEON x gn!Reader 0.6k Words | SFW | Fluff, Slightly Jealous Simeon -> Prompt: "You normally don't like PDAs" [ 2K Event Masterlist ]

Spending time with you in Celestial Realm is everything Simeon hoped it would be. The three realms are enjoying a rare time of peace which means you're able to travel freely between them.

He's overjoyed at the prospect of finally being able to invite you for lengthy visits to his home. The brilliant daylight makes you look even more radiant, and he surprises you with sweet gifts you can only find here: delectable treats, pillowy-soft clothes, and the most beautiful wildflowers.

Simeon reminds himself that he has to be patient while your novelty in the Celestial Realm fades away. Lunch concluded not too long ago, and he sits at the banquet table with his arms crossed over his chest. You’re across the room from him, and he watches his fellow angels crowd you for attention.

It feels like being in the Devildom all over again, only now he has to contend with greedy angels that wear innocent smiles and feathered wings. He suddenly thinks that dealing with Lucifer and his brothers would be preferable to this.

“You’re frowning again,” Raphael mutters quietly beside him.

Simeon makes a tch noise under his breath. He told himself that he wouldn’t be selfish with you during this visit, and he’s trying to make good on his promise.

The other angels are all desperate to see for themselves why their bretheren from the exchange program speak so highly of you. They want to get to know you better and be your friend. You were so nervous coming here at first, and they're doing everything they can to make you feel welcome.

This is a good thing, Simeon reminds himself over and over again like a mantra as he watches you mingle among his brothers and sisters.

An airy laugh catches his attention, and Simeon narrows his eyes and resists the urge to crumple the tablecloth beneath his hands. Metatron is standing closest to you, that absolute flirt of an angel, and he paws at you like a touch-starved kitten wanting attention.

He wonders if you would be terribly upset if he came up with an excuse to pull you away from the crowd. Before he makes a decision, you glance at him over your shoulder. Your smile is a little strained, and he can tell that you’re looking for an escape.

I thought you’d never ask.

He stands from the table quickly (ignoring Raphael’s amused chuckle behind him) and he strides across the room to join you. He slides between you and Metatron so he can wrap an arm around your waist and pull you close. The other angels greet him, but he ignores them all as he presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your nose scrunches up so adorably when you look at him in confusion.

“You wanted to visit the gardens today, didn’t you?” he asks you pleasantly, and he feels more satisfied than he should when the other angels nearby grumble under their breath.

You glance down at the hand curled around your hip and offer him a genuine smile that’s equal parts relieved and adoring. “I would love to,” you agree sweetly.

You offer your new friends a rushed apology as Simeon escorts you from the dining hall and down the hallway that leads outside. His arm is still wrapped around your waist.

“Simeon?”

He hums a lighthearted sound that sounds convincingly innocent.

“Not that I’m complaining, but you normally don’t like PDAs,” you mention casually as you nudge playfully at his side.

Simeon chuckles and looks a little bashful. “Sometimes I can’t resist the temptation to touch you even when the others are near. I like being close to you, and we don’t have to hide our feelings anymore.” He sounds more serious when he asks, “Does it bother you?”

He’s giving you the choice to create boundaries if you’re uncomfortable. He’s always been so considerate of your feelings and your needs, but luckily for both of you, you feel the same way he does.

You bite your lip shyly and wrap an arm around his waist too, and it doesn’t escape your notice that Simeon’s chest puffs out just a bit, or that his smile sharpens into something a little more smug.

“Not at all.”

#obey me #obey me fanfiction #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #obey me simeon x reader #obey me x reader #gn!reader #obey me fluff #jes.2k event

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doobea · 7 months

Text

DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR - REO MIKAGE

synopsis: Being a college student sucks. Having a crush on your best friend also sucks. Your best friend having a crush on your other best friend is . . . kinda the worst. In which, Reo is hopelessly in love with you but you’re hard crushing on Nagi.

-> MASTERLIST.

contents: reo centric, second lead syndrome feat. fem!reader & reo, heavy narration, also in an au where bluelock never happened LOL, starts from past -> present day, mentions of unrequited confessions, country farmgirl!reader -> stem major in college, insert anime cliche of riverbanks and convos about falling in love, kinda proofed word count: 4K (HUH??) a/n: i wrote this while listening to shoujo openings - lets try and find a song suited for these two (eventual) lovebirds, shall we? 'mini-series' my ass idk why the first chap came out so long??? whoops.

SUMMER TRIANGLE -> next.

Reo can’t pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with you.

He thinks it starts all the way back when you first transferred to Hakuho during his second year.

You were a quiet country girl whose parents had just moved to the big city all due to your father’s new job. And it was painfully obvious that it was your first time experiencing anything remotely ‘fancy’ when you came to school the first day. At the time, you were still wearing your old high school uniform, saying something about shipping getting delayed. Your skirt came almost all the way down to your ankles, your sweater vest had loose threads sticking around the edges, and your shirt still carried its creased marks.

To anyone in that school, you looked like an eyesore. Whispers about your family’s net worth, your relationship with the school’s faculty, and whether or not you cheated your way through the entrance exam began circulating.

From the moment you stepped inside the class, Reo knew you would get hell from the nation’s young elites. Reo thought by the end of the first quarter you would’ve dropped out and transferred to another school.

The first few months were rough, from what he observed. No one wanted to partner up with you for group projects, students would try to misplace your assignments, harsh messages were marred onto your desk earlier mornings before you arrived, and your gym clothes always went missing. But you stayed awfully silent, didn’t complain much, and quickly made yourself known to be the “weird, quiet farm girl”. Reo thinks everyone left you alone after you managed to score top ten in the class during finals week, despite the harassment. Still, even after all of that, no one bothered talking to you like normal and moved on to the next hot topic as if you were a dying trend.

Reo didn’t get the chance to talk to you much that year but, safe to say, he was pleasantly surprised to see you again the following semester. Instead of sitting all the way in the back of the classroom, you were seated by the windows. And the empty desk next to you? It was his.

Carefully, Reo placed his bag down on his desk, trying his best not to disturb whatever book you’re currently nose-deep in, and cleared his throat.

“Hi, I’m Reo Mikage,” he introduced himself and was taken aback when you stared at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. He figured it was because he was one of the first to genuinely say anything to you without any malicious intent behind his words.

As you softly mumbled back your name, the gentle cadence as it escaped your lips, coupled with the swift turn of your head towards the window, Reo couldn't help but be enthralled by how soft your features looked in the sunlight. You’ve always kept your appearances simple, trying to not shine too much otherwise the other students would start talking again but, for some reason, all of that made Reo drawn to you more.

While you were deskmates, the two of you didn’t talk much outside of classroom-related topics. And it was always him starting the conversations, not that he minded. Him being close friends with Nagi, who was also a social outcast, made Reo slightly more curious about you ever since the new semester started. But you kept your distance, for obvious reasons. So, after a while, he reached out to you only out of necessity.

Fast forward two months and Reo is found slipping a party invitation on your desk. Well, not specifically yours, but everyone’s desks. Word of his father’s business migration with another classmate’s family company spread like wildfire before journalists had the chance to write up a meaningless article and Reo was forcefully instructed to invite his entire class to celebrate for the occasion.

So he did.

And, of course, everyone and their parents decided to show up. There were a few students that he didn’t recognize, probably snuck in through bribery or faked the invitation — not that he ultimately cared. There were more than a handful of mothers who had proudly flaunted themselves at his father and more than a dozen other student’s fathers trying to network with Reo.

At seventeen, Reo told himself that this was something he should’ve gotten used to by now, but it honestly felt horribly embarrassing every time. Reo blocked out the comments about the lack of ‘fancier food’ and ‘decor’ in his own home and retreated upstairs to his bedroom with Nagi trailing not far from behind.

“How long do you think they’re staying for?”

“Hm?” Nagi briefly looked up from his phone, eyes focusing on Reo’s perplexed expressions as he lay in bed. The male shifts around in Reo’s office chair and taps away at his device with a shrug in response. “Dunno, when the food and drinks run out maybe?”

Reo ran a hand through his hair, brows furrowing more as sounds from outside gradually grew louder. “This always ends up happening and I don’t understand why can’t he find a reception hall to throw this.” He paused, listened closely to the voices and conversations, and scoffed. “Do you know what they’re saying right now, Nagi?”

“Ah,” Nagi frowned as a deflated noise emitted from his phone, indicating he lost a match. He went into another queue and bounced his leg against the floor in waiting. “No, what are they saying out there?”

“That they think I’ll be together with Rika by the end of this year.” Reo launched his body upright at the thought, lips pursed tightly.

Again, Nagi doesn’t bother looking up. He just landed in a new match. “That heiress? Doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Since when do you know anything about types, Nagi?” Reo was half expecting Nagi to say something dumb relating to those terrible romance novel games that he sometimes plays.

The other male shrugged again, eyes flicking up this time. “Just doesn’t seem like it, that’s all.”

“You—”

The conversation abruptly ended with a single swing of the door. The door frame nearly collided with Nagi's face, accompanied by a high-pitched yelp. Reo had invited the whole class, but this was one of the people he hadn’t really expected to show up.

You were almost unrecognizable. Hair straightened, over blushed cheeks, a lipstick color that was too mature on you. The dress you wore hugged awkwardly to your sides and the height from your heels seemed to be too tall for you to maneuver around. From one glance, he knew you were uncomfortable.

You clung to the door handle, attempting to steady yourself, evident signs of mortification settling in. “S-Sorry, I was looking for the bathroom.”

Those words almost sounded foreign to Reo. The only times you’ve spoken to him were in curt, stoic sentences either about math or science assignments. He’d never seen you this flustered or worked up before.

Reo snapped out of his inner thoughts when Nagi decided to roll out from behind the door frame with a hand over his nose. Nagi looked unphased, but the familiar dull sound from his phone proved otherwise.

“Made me lose another round,” Nagi said simply and Reo watched as you fidgetted around, almost appearing self-cautious now.

“I’m sorry?” Was all you said in response.

Reo was about to hop out of bed, the bathroom directions loaded on his tongue, until a herd of footsteps followed by loud giggles was ascending the stairs. “Wait, close the door; I don’t want anyone coming in here.” The last thing he wanted was his classmates messing around with his personal belongings.

You appeared even more bewildered. “Um, I still need to—”

“He has a bathroom in his room, don’t worry,” Nagi interjected.

You were quick to believed Nagi's words and shut the door before heads peeked from the staircase. Reo shot his friend a questioning look as you shuffle your way to his bathroom and Nagi merely shrugged once again. Reo found himself thinking, finding that his plan of hiding away had just gotten a whole lot more complicated and awkward with you being in the picture. They both stayed quiet until you walked out, eyes facing everywhere but the two of them.

Reo's voice jolted you back to reality. “Sorry if this sounds rude but why are you here?” Okay, no matter how he would've phrased it, it did sound rude.

You didn't seem to mind it, probably already used to the harsh treatment. “My parents saw the invitation and got excited. They bought all these things for me last minute and dropped me off. I only said yes to coming because they were worried I wasn’t making any friends.” You explained, your steady nonchalant tone masking a layer of vulnerability.

Reo felt vaguely guilty at the response. Maybe he should've skipped your desk altogether? No, that would've been borderline bullying, he thought. Still, you shouldn't have been pressured to go.

“Did you want to hang out here instead?” Nagi casually offered up as if it was his house too. “We’re avoiding everyone else.”

“Nagi—!”

“What?” Nagi blinked at Reo in confusion, cocking his head slightly. “It’s written all over your face.”

He doesn't even know what expression he's making right now. All that Reo hoped was that you don't end up saying anything weird the next day. Not that he assumed you would be the type but, judging from how his guests acted earlier, he felt safer keeping his guard up.

There was a momentary pause, and then you gave a small nod, eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and relief. “Only if you’re fine with it.”

"Shouldn't matter to us," Nagi answered.

Reo considers this particular moment to be the turning point in your close friendship. It was his party, but almost everyone attending seemed to have forgotten his whereabouts soon after he disappeared.

At first, he was hesitant to talk about his thoughts or just about anything really, but Nagi didn't seem to care. As you and Nagi engaged in a somewhat awkward conversation about video games – or rather, Nagi half-scolding you for making him lose – Reo, after finally getting tired of listening, spent the remainder of the time venting about the various students and teachers at school.

That was nearly two years ago.

As the first year of college draws to a close, the three of you, on a spontaneous whim, decided to host a modest celebration in Reo and Nagi's shared apartment, only sending out invites to a handful of your close classmates.

You arrive about two hours before everyone else with the cake and drinks in hand, letting the door shut behind you as you rush into the kitchen. Nagi’s sitting on the countertop in the corner, attempting his best to unravel some of the cheesy party decorations that you insisted on getting, and Reo is pouring a weird red jello shot mixture into tiny plastic cups in the living room.

The three of you haven’t realized just how busy everything would be after starting college. Hangouts would only be frequent maybe once or twice a week, but everyone’s schedule was all over the place. You had your three-hour labs, Reo signed up to become Treasurer and President for two student organizations, and Nagi pretty much slept all day as soon he came back from lectures. Now, with this year finally coming to an end, Reo is finally looking forward to spending more time with everyone with summer nearing.

“Do we really need this many streamers?” Nagi is sighing as he swings his legs back and forth.

He managed to string a couple of them into long-wrapped strands but gave up halfway. There’s a bag of animal headbands next to him, so he fiddles with them next, claiming a bear-themed one for himself.

You set down the items on the counter and waltz over to his side, immediately fishing through the bag for your own pair. “We do and—,” Reo watches your lips upturn right as you reach over to Nagi, adjusting his headband and fixing his hair in the process. “—the bear suits you well.”

Nagi hums in thought and leans into your touch, seemingly unaware of your flustered state. “Think so?”

“I—uh yeah, you’re like a big bear sometimes…”

He helps you dig through the bag and pulls out a headband with cat ears. Without hesitation, Nagi tucks your hair back slightly and carefully places it onto your head. A satisfied faint smile makes its way onto his face. “It looks cute on you.”

Reo almost spills the remanding liquid all over the coffee table from the scene and breaks away from the before it evolves into something more. He hears you trying to say something back, maybe a ‘thank you’ or a compliment, but it comes out as incoherent noises and soft mumbles. And, although tonight is supposed to be reserved for a well deserved celebration, Reo can’t help but to think he doesn’t even feel like he belongs in his own apartment right now.

“What do you think, Reo?” Nagi calls out.

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t she look cute in them?”

Reo pours the last bits of the liquid into the cups and glances over. It takes everything in him to not turn the slightest shade of red because you look do look ridiculously cute in that headband.

He sticks out his tongue and blows a raspberry. “Looks the same to me.”

You roll your eyes and blow one back. “I was gonna assign you the bunny eared one but now you’re getting the rat.”

Reo chooses to not say anything back, not that it really mattered. He gets up and places the empty pitcher into the sink and focuses his attention to the dining room. The table is a bit messy, cluttered with stacks of his business textbooks and your forgotten stationary supplies. He has food catered that’ll be arriving within the next hour, so he spends this time cleaning and setting up the area.

Their dining room goes vastly unused with how often Reo and Nagi eat out. Because of this, Reo settled with a small table tucked in the kitchen corner that’s mainly used as a storage area rather than eating—so it’s kind of nice seeing it finally being used for its intended purpose.

It’s you, him, Nagi, Chigiri, Isagi, and Bachira that eventually congregate around the area. Before the party, Reo tells his friends not to bring any gifts or extra food, but they show up with them anyway. Chigiri brings over a really good sushi bake while Isagi and Bachira gift Reo a shitty Ouija board for whatever reason and… well the party is actually pretty nice.

Way different from all the other stuffy parties Reo grew up with and he thinks this might be the only party where he’s surrounded by people he cares about. No serious conversations about the family business or his future plans, just really lame attempts to call out whatever spirits Bachira thinks lives in their outdated fireplace.

“That was fun,” You say quietly after everyone else leaves.

The apartment is a little bit messy, even though Isagi did most of the heavy-duty cleanup. There are still some dishes piled up in the sink and confetti peppered all over the living area but Reo will procrastinate on that for tonight.

He’s sprawled on the couch, head thrown back as he melts his entire body weight onto the furniture, tired and socially drained for the night. He only looks to the side when you plop down in the tiny empty space next to him, face deep in thought and cheeks warm. Reo knows that look. He’s seen it maybe over a hundred times at this point.

It’s about Nagi Seishiro.

“I think I’m gonna do it tonight.” You’re whispering into his ear and Reo picks up on the sweet, subtle perfume laced around your neck. It seems like you had just applied it moments before coming over.

He forces a smile and glosses over a fake veil of excitement. “Oh, finally? You’re not going to chicken out like the last couple of times?”

You smack his arm, cheeks puffed out. “I’m not! I’m taking your advice for once. Better now than never, you know?”

“Yeah,” Reo says, maybe a bit too fast.

His mind is racing, along with the drumming in his chest, because you’re not joking around this time. The look in your eyes tells him that you’re serious and he feels really confused. Reo has been encouraging you since high school to get with Nagi and, now that you’re actually following through, he doesn’t know what to make of it.

Maybe it’s his ego, pride, or just plain possessiveness that’s driving him mad. But he knows better than to wish anything but happiness for his two best friends. Nagi, although more introverted and aloof, has become more open whenever you’re around and you two do make a good couple—at least that’s what Reo convinces himself.

He finds himself dozing off against the balcony railing outside on the apartment’s porch while you go off to find Nagi in his room. Reo scans the area, taking in the dim orange lights from the street lamps on campus and the warm inviting late spring breeze. It’s a decent distraction.

The college campus is really nice, an old one, with lots of mature trees, and stretches of green between the buildings, all connected with little cobblestone walkways. It’s almost like stepping back in time because Tokyo is a large, sprawling city. Reo decides he likes it. It’s way different from his past life, very jarring from his lavish big, but empty, mansion with butlers and maids alike, his old home was so different than this new, slower-paced way of life.

Reo’s over himself when hears the porch door slide from behind him, he doesn’t need to turn around to know that it’s you. And, judging from the way your body flops against the railing, he concludes that it didn’t go well. It’s strange, he thought Nagi would’ve reciprocated the feelings back at least a little bit. Reo makes a mental note to privately ask his friend about it later.

He avoids your gaze and continues to stare at the city skyline in the distance, waiting for you to say the first word.

After a while, you sigh. “Do you… do you think he’ll be uncomfortable around me?”

Reo feels his heart stuttering in his chest. “Of course not,” He answers quickly and relaxes when he sees the frown on your features slowly disappearing. “Nagi’s not the type to easily throw away a good friendship.” Reo knows that by heart.

You groan and bury your face into your palms, shrinking more into your oversized campus hoodie. “I’m so dumb, Reo…” Your voice comes out muffled and strained. “I should’ve never said anything.”

Reo wrestles with the thought that he’s an asshole for thinking quite the opposite. On one hand, he's relieved that you got rejected, but on the other hand, witnessing your heart break doesn't make things any easier for him. He’s still your friend at the end of the day.

He refrains the urge to extend his arms, grab your shoulders, and draw you into the warmth of his chest. Suppressing the desire to run his fingers through your hair, tenderly massage your scalp, and whisper that everything will be okay—that he's by your side. Instead, Reo opts for a laugh, presenting you with his credit card. “Let’s set him aside for a moment and concentrate on you.”

You peer up from your sleeves, immediately widening your eyes in disbelief and then shooting him a half-glare. “I’m not gonna be spending your money, Reo. You can’t fix a broken heart with that.”

“Yeah,” Reo softly agrees, face crescent fallen briefly before recovering. He shuffles towards you, just close enough so that your shoulders touch. “But I know where we can go.”

Your eyes sparkle at the idea, already knowing the exact location Reo is mentioning. There’s a quaint riverbank not too far from the campus and high school, the one that you would always go to whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed or upset. Reo knows that it reminds you of home, the countryside, and listening to the steady streams helps calm your nerves.

With Nagi likely cooped up in his room, the two of you sneak out of the apartment, and the night air wraps around you both like a comforting blanket.

By the time you two arrive at the riverbank, you find a comfortable spot to lie down near the top of the hill. Reo joins next to you, the cool grass beneath him contrasting with the warmth of his body. Slowly, the heaviness that lingered from earlier begins to dissipate.

Reo lies on his side, the night enveloping the two of you in a cocoon of solitude. His voice, gentle and warm, breaks the silence, "Hey," he faintly calls out your name. Patiently, he waits until your body turns to mirror his, until you're just inches away, and the distant sounds of passing cars fade into the background.

It annoys him how clueless you are, how you’re able to be physically bold and unapologetically yourself when around him but, when it comes to Nagi, you turn into a stuttering, blushing mess. He selfishly wishes to have that all to himself. “Why don’t you fall in love with me instead?”

Reo watches your eyes widen, mirroring the same motions you did when he first introduced himself to you, and your body reacts first before you’re able to construct words. You kick him, admittedly harder than he would’ve liked, followed by an immediate apology.

“That was a joke, right? Like a really, really, really bad joke?”

Pretending not to feel the pang in his chest, Reo rubs his shin and forces a chuckle, his arm thrown over his face to conceal any hint of redness that might betray him in the night. “Yeah, thought it would cheer you up somehow,” he lamely replies.

The sound of your huff and shuffling suggests you turned away, likely out of annoyance. Reo senses a momentary pause, and he thinks you might be on the verge of tears again until you murmur, “Love is so complicated.”

A twitch courses through him and he swallows hard against a lump in his throat before joining the conversation, “People do a lot of things when they’re in love. You confessing to Nagi tonight was out of love.”

“Yeah, I just wished it was easy to… I guess, understand.”

“Love happens randomly and doesn’t need reasons. If love was easy to understand then most of our world’s problems would go away.”

“Have you ever been in love, Reo?”

"I have," he answers truthfully. As you shuffle some more, he peeks from under his arm to find your face wide, brimming with curiosity. Reo sets his arm aside and smirks. "What makes you think I’m gonna tell you?"

You’re toying with the hem of your hoodie, looking like you’re about to jump to your feet. “Because I just got my heart broken tonight and I feel like maybe the least you can do is tell me who you like?”

“Let me think,” Reo fake ponders for a few seconds and then shakes his head. “Nah, don’t think so.”

You kick him again, this time very softly. “You’re no fun,” you whine, but there’s something so sincere to it that Reo’s heart aches again. “Can you at least tell me when you fell in love?”

His laugh comes out weak and hoarse, feeling the sudden need to look away but he doesn’t. Reo stares straight into your eyes because he knows that no matter how hard he tries, you’ll never get it unless he spells it out for you. “I became aware of it when I was sitting next to them.”

You start laughing, as he expected, but it's lighthearted and innocent. Reo doesn't feel insulted—at least not yet. “It was love at first sight?”

He's definitely a tomato right now, he can feel it in his face. “More like first interaction...” Reo mumbles out, now facing the river.

“Well, whoever they are, they're lucky to have someone like you crushing over them.”

“Yeah, I guess they are lucky.”

TAGLIST - OPEN

@celestair @kitorin @popponn @yoisami @anurst @katsukiiishoe @yuzurins @vitaniangel-blog @kunikame @miwafei @astruoise @faeroow @wooasecret @limerence-lu @jaynawayna

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #doobea writing #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR - REO MIKAGE

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bird-inacage · 2 years

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Love in the Air: Sky’s Desire to be Loved

Sky is already breaking my heart. What I really picked up on in this episode is despite the pain, disappointment and trauma Sky carries with him, he still ultimately just wants to be loved.

At the race, when he first realises Prapai is staring at him, he looks slightly taken aback in a pleasantly surprised sort of way. Like ‘oh, he noticed me’. It’s evident that Sky finds Prapai very attractive, and so when Prapai takes him aside, you can tell that Sky is shy, nervous even. That’s the sort of reaction you only have in front of someone you potentially like. However, as soon as Prapai comes out with his proposition, Sky’s impression of him immediately does a 180. You can tell how hurt he is by this revelation. It’s not simply ‘oh this guy is an asshole too’, but more so, ‘why is this happening to me again?’

The fact that Sky agrees to their one night stand is more than just about repaying a favour or rising to the challenge. To me this is a sign of self-destructive behaviour. I think he resorts to his usual defence mechanism which is playing nonchalant. Maybe if he pretends to be unaffected and somehow detached from this emotionally, he won’t be hurt when it dawns on him all over again that this was purely a physical transaction. But he goes into this knowing that he’s hurt, hurting and will be hurt further by it.

I think Sky feels better when he has control and is taking the initiative. Because then something at least is on his terms, and he can convince himself he’s okay that it is just sex.

So Sky chooses to give in purely to lust, and to allow that to sweep him away. He is able to enjoy their night together simply on a physical level. However, immediately afterward you can tell Sky is unhappy, empty and regretful. He feels like nothing but an object of desire. His attempt to detach himself emotionally wasn’t successful. So he reaches for Prapai again for that momentary high. The brief comfort that comes from connecting with someone during sex is only temporary.

People who have experienced abusive or toxic relationships, desperately want the other person to love them equally, and are therefore willing to compromise their own discomfort, their own boundaries and concede to more and more to please that person.

I do also think that some people who are desperately seeking love, sometimes mistake any form of intimacy as a substitute. They’ll take what is offered to them, even if it makes them feel bad about themselves. Which is why I believe Sky continued to engage with Prapai that night, because he probably tried to convince himself that it was enough, which clearly backfired.

Then we see Sky leave the hotel, looking so dejected, small and alone. What kills me about these scenes is the quiet resignation in Sky’s acceptance of the situation. He just looks like he’s thinking ‘how could you be so stupid?’ And when he says “you’re also an asshole” - he sounds genuinely disappointed. Like he was really hoping Prapai would be different and prove him wrong.

Sky then returns home where he clearly wants to cry but holds it in. I think Sky believes that if he truly broke down in that moment, then he would have truly admitted defeat. That it would be affirmation that he has allowed this to get to him and hurt him, when he was so determined not to let that happen again.

“Shitty things always happen to me”. When bad things happen repeatedly to someone, it’s easy to internalise that as if it is somehow your fault because the common denominator is you.

Later in the episode, there are multiple scenes where Sky reiterates that he doesn’t think Prapai would ever truly be interested in him. That Prapai’s interest in pursuing him is just for sex.

When he answers Prapai’s call for the first time, he doesn’t yet know who it is, and yet Prapai crosses his mind. This shows that Prapai did leave an impression on him. Sky has not completely erased him from his mind.

The other important detail to note here is that even though Sky deems Prapai an ‘asshole’, he doesn’t at any point say he’s not attracted to him. He’s always commenting on how he feels Prapai wouldn’t be attracted to him. This demonstrates that Sky does genuinely believe (despite all his negative impressions) that Prapai is out of his league and would never take real notice of him. He would not be having these thoughts if he didn’t like Prapai on some level. And he hates himself for that, because he feels he should know better.

It’s because he’s attracted to Prapai that he can’t help feeling taken by Prapai’s advances. He even peers out of the window to see if Prapai is still there. He repeatedly tells himself to shake out of it, knowing he shouldn’t entertain these delusions.

In the last scene where Sky receives the sunflowers, he’s taken aback for a moment when Prapai tells him why he sent them. “Cause sunflowers face the sky, I can’t be the sun for you but whenever you see sunflowers, remember that this wind’s watching over the sky”.

Sky is aware that Prapai is sweet talking. But he can’t help himself from being genuinely touched for a moment, like his brain is going ‘see, someone is doing this for you, that must mean something right?’.

At this stage Prapai doesn’t fully mean it. Not really. The man has no idea what his own feelings for Sky are. But this was still surprisingly heartfelt and sweet. A passing comment which meant a whole lot to Sky in that moment because it was so nice to just hear someone try and sweet talk him for once - regardless of how genuine it was.

Sky is clearly conflicted over his feelings around Prapai. He knows he should be staying well away, but at the same time he can’t help but want to be the object of someone’s attentions. Little does he know how deeply Prapai will come to love him.

#this broke my fragile heart #LITA #love in the air #love in the air series #LITA analysis #prapaisky #love sky #sky #love in the air episode 8 #i have a lot of thoughts on sky this episode #sky needs to be cherished treasured and adored for the rest of time #again - im not a novel reader so please keep spoilers away

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blues-valentine · 2 months

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Dune Spoilers:

I like the Dune book series - it’s one of the first sci fic books I ever read and we all know they're the blueprint. And Deni's movies are a visual masterpiece. With that being said, I have some issues with the movies because of their use of Arab culture to build their world while most of their cast and staff isn’t even middle eastern. But I don’t feel I have the authority to talk about it so I’ll refer to some posts. (x x x)

But with a lot of criticism I disagree with the takes about the movie showing us a "white savior trope" and I don’t want to yell that media literacy is death when it comes to analyzing entertainment but yes because Paul Atreides is being portrayed as a cautionary tale since the very first introduction to Dune in the movies. Chani starts the movie explaining Arraki’s story about being invaded and under the ex rule of an imperial house and asks the following question: “Who’ll our next oppressors be?” while cutting directly to Paul and starting his journey. Paul isn’t being shown as the white savior that will free the Fremen from the imperial rule and get them the paradise they see in the prophecy. He quickly becomes a power hungry leader with a god complex and I think Dune: Part Two heavily showcases this transition. Paul spends a lot of time denying what he could be and when he has the ability to see he can win and rule the world - his greed takes over.

Paul’s ascent to power in the 3rd act isn’t even being portrayed as a good thing — it’s supposed to be dark and full of warnings about the tyrant he’ll become. It’s there in his scary speech and Chani’s face. Both Paul and Jessica are being shown as manipulative people that are leading the Fremen into false hopes and religious fanaticism. Paul knew from the very start that the Bere Gesserit were planting ideas on the Fremen about him being the one - and he knew he needed to convince the remaining doubtful people of the prophecy if he wanted them on his side for his revenge. He was using the Fremen for his vengeance agaisnt the emperor. And he might’ve fallen in love with Chani and genuinely believe his place is at Arrakis' but he quickly transforms into the Messiah that plays into people’s false worship. He knows the easiest way to control the Fremen is by playing into the prophecy.

Paul’s Atraides isn’t about a hero’s journey but mostly the journey of an anti hero. We are not supposed to think he is the good guy. In the books there’s this important quote from Frank Herbert’s himself: “No more terrible disaster could befall your people than for them to fall into the hands of a hero.” because Paul isn’t there to save them from colonialism just replacing their old oppressors (Harkonnen) with him.

And I was pleasantly surprised with the changes in Chani’s character by her having more agency by being a freedom fighter and the only one seeing the wrongs in the increasing fanaticism towards Paul and the dangers this means for her people instead of playing the passive girlfriend that sticks by his side despite him becoming everything he swore won't be like in the books. And I really hope they change some parts of her arc in the last movie and she goes against him. Or at the very least have her still present a strong opposition to his world view. It would turn their relationship more interesting than her spending 12 years as his concubine wanting to bear him children and dying for it. I think Denis seems to be planning a better way to portray the women in the last movie and I can't wait to see what he does with them.

I just feel like people will get to Dune: Messiah and be so confused as if Paul going into a dark path and becoming Arraki's next oppressor wasn't pretty much there all along.

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune movie #text post #chani kynes #paul atreides

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darylas · 20 days

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Chapter 3 - Ghost of a Chance

John "Bucky" Egan x singer!fem!reader first ♫ previous ♫ next ao3

You go on a double date to distract yourself from thoughts of Bucky, a task made more difficult when he is sitting in the same pub.

4.2k words

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Non-consensual use of drugs, Attempted sexual assault, Mild violence

Disclaimer: Most of the characters mentioned are based on the dramatic portrayal featured in the Masters of the Air limited series, not the actual historical figures they represent.

A/N: Please read the warnings! MAJOR tone shift coming in from the north. I promise next chapter will be lighter!

“So, how long have you been in merry old England?”

“Less than a month, though it doesn’t feel that way,” you answered, swiping your thumb across the condensation that had formed quickly on your glass in the humidity of the pub. You were sat across from Lieutenant Tom Foyle, a pilot in the 351st. His dark hair was styled neatly with pomade, his handsome face clean-shaven. Next to you sat Millicent “Millie” Vance, another Red Cross girl who had somehow roped you into being one-fourth of a double date.

“Oh? Does it feel longer or shorter?” Tom asked. He seemed genuinely interested in your answer, as he had with everything you’d said that evening. He had kind, curious green eyes that made you feel like the only person in the room.

You looked down at your glass, half empty. “Both. Neither. To be completely honest I’m not quite sure. The work gets so repetitive that time seems to stand still some days, but other times it feels as though the clock is ticking faster than a runaway train. I suppose there’s nothing like war to make time feel rather short.” You gave Tom a reassuring smile, ending your little monologue before it grew any more depressing and soured the whole evening. “Sorry,” you said, holding up your glass. “It appears that gin makes me a tad melancholy.”

The blond pilot sitting across from Millie spoke up. “That’s funny, it makes me giddy. Of course, that could just be our present company.” He leaned forward, addressing Millie. “I told Tom that you had to be the prettiest girl this side of the ocean.”

Millie grinned and replied, “Glad we’re not on the other side of the ocean, then,” causing the pilot, Dan, to let out a surprised wheeze of laughter.

While Dan continued his boisterous flirting, saying something about Millie having wit as well as looks, Tom leaned toward you, filling your nostrils with the pleasant scent of his aftershave. He smirked and said in a low voice, “I believe his exact words to me were, ‘What a dish!’.”

You chuckled softly, pleasantly surprised that you were actually enjoying yourself. “I suppose we can’t all be Humphrey Bogart.”

“Sure, we can.” Tom cocked his head slightly to the side and spoke with Bogart’s deep and gravelly voice. “We’ll always have Paris.”

You laughed as he sat back in his chair with a smile. “You saw Casablanca?” you asked him.

“Yep, right before flying over. I’d go see movies whenever I could.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Used to think I could be an actor. Wouldn’t that be something? Seeing yourself on the big screen?” He certainly had the looks for it.

“Maybe after the war, you could pursue an acting career. I’m sure Hollywood would snatch you right up.” Tom smiled bashfully at the compliment. “I actually wanted to be in movies myself when I was younger. Particularly musicals. I’m not much of a dancer but hell, neither is Bing Crosby, and he gets away with it.” You took another sip of gin, inwardly wincing. It was stronger than the drinks you normally favored, but Dan had ordered a round for the table. You had never liked when a man ordered food or drink for a woman, but you didn’t want to embarrass Millie by declining.

“I’d see your films over Bing’s any day,” responded Tom, who managed to combine flirtation and authenticity with such ease that you were beginning to feel skeptical. You couldn’t help but glance toward the back of the pub, where Major Egan had been sitting with some of the other men for the past hour. You were surprised to find him looking right back at you. He gave you a small smile and a subtle nod. No wink, no devilish grin. Curious. Reflexively, you smiled back, then looked away.

Much to your annoyance, John Egan had begun to appear in your thoughts almost regularly and uninvited. Ever since that night at the club, he had gotten under your skin like a persistent itch. An egotistical, irritating, handsome, intriguing itch. You kept these thoughts to yourself, as you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his asinine attempt to insult you into a conversation almost worked. By the same token, you were still wary of him, knowing his track record with women.

You knew, not so deep down, that you had agreed to come on this double date to distract yourself and perhaps meet someone else to occupy your thoughts. Someone like Tom, who picked up his glass and said, “To our Tinseltown dreams, then.”

You clinked your glass with his and said, “To Bing Crosby and his two left feet.”

Millie spoke up. “You know, our Red Cross canary here sings an old Bing song just beautifully. The one from that short with Mary Kornman. Anyone who’s ever made coffee and doughnuts with this one in the morning has heard her sing it.”

You shrugged one shoulder. “Anything to distract me from throwing that blasted doughnut machine out the window. I swear, my poor old Zippo is more reliable than that thing.”

“I thought you said your lighter doesn’t work anymore,” said Millie.

“Exactly,” you replied, to the laughter of your companions.

Tom, with laughter still in his voice, looked at you and said, “I’d sure love to hear you sing it sometime. After all, when some bigshot movie producer calls to ask me about your talents, I want to give him an accurate description.”

Dan scoffed. “Why would a movie producer call you about her?”

Tom lightly smacked his friend on the shoulder. “Why would anyone call you about anything?”

Dan’s blond mustache twitched as he smirked. “You’re hilarious. Anybody ever tell you what a gasser you are?”

There was a brief pause, during which your traitorous eyes suddenly flicked back to that table in the back of the pub. Major Egan was not looking at you this time, his attention currently fixed on his friend Lieutenant Curtis Biddick while he seemed to be mimicking various boxing forms. Egan laughed and hollered with the rest of the men at the table. He looked younger when he laughed, less like a commanding officer and more like a carefree young man. You assumed he shouldered a great many cares, and that the weight of them would only increase as the war continued. The humidity of the pub had caused a few curls to come loose over his forehead, the fire behind him giving his skin a warm glow.

“I’m sure the pianist knows it,” said Millie, breaking you out of what you could only describe as a trance before the Major caught you staring.

“Knows what?” you asked, praying to high heaven you weren’t blushing.

“The song! You could sing it here!”

“Oh, Millie, please. Most of these boys hear far too much of my caterwauling back at base. They come here to get away from that. Besides, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m in the middle of a date.” You gestured between yourself and Tom.

Tom smiled. “As much as I’m enjoying said date, I think the one thing it’s missing is a beautiful song sung by a beautiful lady. And I think all the guys in here would agree with me.”

“I don’t think they would-”

“What, you want me to take a poll?” asked Millie, teasingly. “Dan, sweetie, would you mind?”

Alright, maybe she wasn’t teasing. Dan stood up and shouted, “Gentlemen! Who wants to hear our 100th canary sing us a song?” His question was answered with a chorus of affirmative shouts and whistles from around the pub.

Tom looked at you and grinned. “Sounds like you better head over there.”

You grinned back and let out a resigned huff of breath before standing up. “I suppose orders are orders, Lieutenant.”

═════ ♫ ═════

Bucky heard your laughter from across the pub. His eyes immediately turned towards you as the sound reached him, his instincts taking over before his thoughts could catch up. He’d seen you walk in with one of the pilots in the 351st, decked out and chatting with Millie Vance. You were smiling at that pilot now; not the plastered-on, rehearsed, all-American smile he had grown used to seeing at Thorpe Abbotts. This was the real thing, and it was beautiful. What would he give to be the reason for that smile? To be the one to make you laugh like that?

He would fly through a thousand miles of flak.

Bucky rubbed a hand over his face. He might just be the most pathetic man in the entire fucking world.

He couldn’t remember the last time he was so keen on someone. You had to be some sort of siren, luring him out to sea with your alluring voice, only to drag him down, down, down, to the depths of the ocean. He was surprised to find he didn’t mind. With a barely concealed smirk, he realized that being eaten alive by you would not be a terrible way to die.

You had glanced his way once or twice, no doubt feeling his eyes on you. He had tried to look away, to focus on the stories told around the table, but he simply couldn’t help himself. His gaze kept falling back on you. He had never seen you without your Red Cross uniform, and the dress you were wearing had clearly been custom-designed to drive him crazy.

Bucky was grateful for Curt’s loud voice and enthusiasm as he talked about boxing. The distraction was a welcome one, though he supposed that you were the true distraction in this case and not the other way around.

“I can’t believe Buck didn’t come,” said Curt, finishing off his whiskey. “He knows exactly what I’m talkin’ about. The high guard stance ain’t shit in the ring. It’s all about-”

“Gentlemen!” called a voice from across the pub. “Who wants to hear our 100th canary sing us a song?” The place was filled with the sound of whoops and hollers from nearly every table. Bucky watched you grin at your date–Foyle–and stand up before walking to the piano.

Curt didn’t miss a beat before saying, “Uh oh. Look out boys, you might see Bucky cry. The music really gets to’m.”

“Yeah, the music’s lookin’ like a solid sender in that dress,” said Hambone, earning a round of laughter from the table.

Bucky smiled good-naturedly, used to the ribbing at this point. “Alright, alright, laugh it up. Since when is a guy not allowed to appreciate a beautiful dame, huh?”

"Bucky, you've been eyeing her all night," Jack interjected. "You stare at her more than Douglass stares at that photo of Betty Grable he keeps in his pocket." Another round of laughs. Bucky took a long sip of whiskey as Curt patted him on the back with a grin.

He watched you lean down to speak softly to the pianist before standing up straight and clearing your throat. “Don’t you boys hear enough of me as it is? I don’t know what’s gotten into you; well, I suppose I have some idea,” you said, tapping your nail against someone’s glass to make a plinking sound. The crowd laughed, many raising their drinks. “I’m going to sing an old song, but I asked my new friend Alan here to keep it short. I have a drink of my own I’d like to get back to.”

Next to him, Curt laughed before leaning over and saying, “She might be too much of a firecracker for your sorry ass.” Bucky elbowed him in the arm, making him laugh harder. As the pianist started playing a slow, pleasant melody, Curt leaned in again and said, “Or…she just might be perfect for your sorry ass.” Bucky furrowed his brow and turned his head to look at his friend, who smirked and shrugged. “What? I get sappy when I drink.” Bucky didn’t have time to reply before you began to sing.

I need your love so badly

I love you, oh, so madly

But I don't stand a

Ghost of a chance with you

You sauntered between the tables as you sang, the patrons smiling up at you. Bucky preferred when you sang slower songs like this one, the drawn-out notes more sensuous and poignant. As you came within ten feet of his table, you stopped moving. Your eyes met his and lingered for a moment as you continued your song. He was spellbound.

I thought at last I'd found you

But other loves surround you

And I don't stand a

Ghost of a chance with you

You walked back to the piano, leaning elegantly against it as you finished the last line of the song. Applause rang throughout the pub and you nodded graciously before shouting, “How about my new friend, our amazing pianist, Mr. Alan Bennett?” The applause and shouts continued as you said “Thank you; enjoy your evening,” then headed back to your seat.

When Bucky saw you smile once again, genuinely, at Foyle, the spell was broken. No, he hadn’t been on the receiving end of that smile yet, but your shared moment just now gave him a glimpse of hope. You had looked at him differently then, not with contempt or that devastating neutrality from before, but with something else.

Christ, he really was pathetic, knowing that look would be all he thought about for the rest of the night. He deserved the boys’ ragging, as well as another glass of whiskey.

═════ ♫ ═════

You listened to Millie tell an amusing story about an old neighbor back home as you finished your drink. Even though you weren’t currently talking, you noticed Tom stealing frequent glances at you. You smiled encouragingly at him before fanning yourself with a napkin, the heat in the pub somehow having gotten worse.

As Millie continued her story, your thoughts drifted to Major Egan. When your eyes met his grey ones during the song, you were struck by the tenderness and reverence in his gaze. He hadn’t looked at you like a prize, like an object to be used until he grew bored of it. You had held that gaze for longer than you intended; it didn’t change, but you felt like you did.

For that brief moment, no more than five seconds, you were no longer in the pub, but somewhere else entirely. You weren’t sure exactly where you were during this momentary lapse of reality, but you knew you had gotten there through his eyes. You had always heard of getting lost in someone’s eyes, but in that moment, you didn’t feel lost. Instead, you felt as though you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Perhaps you had been too quick to judge him.

Perhaps you should get to know him better.

Perhaps it had just been a man watching a woman while she sang.

All of these confusing thoughts were beginning to give you a headache.

In fact, the noise of the pub seemed to grow louder by the second, and the lights seemed to get brighter. You squinted.

“Honey, are you alright?” asked Millie. You hadn’t realized she’d stopped talking. You gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yes, yes I’m fine. I think the crowded room is getting to me. I might need to step outside for a moment; get some fresh air.” You scooted your chair away from the table.

Both men stood as you did so. Tom pushed in his chair and came around to your side of the table, looking concerned. “Can I accompany you outside? I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Of course. I’d appreciate it, actually.” You looked at Millie. “We’ll be right back.”

As you stood up, you lost your balance and braced your hands on the table, causing the legs to make a loud noise as they shifted. You flushed with embarrassment as multiple patrons looked in your direction, some sniggering to each other. Millie put a delicate hand on your arm. “Are you sure you’re alright? I think we need to head back.”

You waved her off. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m fine. I just stood up too fast. A few minutes of fresh air and I’ll be good as new. Don’t you dare move; this is your one night out. I’m fine.”

Millie continued to look at you with skepticism and concern, but Tom offered you his arm and you took it, walking toward the front of the pub with slow, deliberate steps.

Suddenly, you were outside the pub, still holding on tight to Tom’s arm. You breathed in the night air, hoping it would clear your head. It didn’t.

“Feel any better?” asked Tom.

You looked at him and were alarmed to see that you were no longer outside the front entrance, but alone with him around the side of the building. You couldn’t remember how you got there, but Tom’s arm was still in your grasp. You continued to cling to it, as your dizziness had gotten worse and you were afraid you might fall flat on your face if you let go.

“No, I….don’t,” you answered, having difficulty forming the words. This sudden ailment was clearly something that needed more than fresh air to fix, and you knew it was time to call it a night. Could you really be this drunk? Yes, the gin had been stronger than what you normally drank, but you only had one glass.

Tom looked at you with concern. “I’m so sorry. Are you feeling well enough for the trip back? It would probably be safer to book you a room for the night.” He stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

“I think I’d like to…to go back to base and get in bed.”

“Is that an invitation?” he asked softly, brushing the backs of his fingers down your bare arm.

“Nnnn…no.” The pain in your head was worsening, your mind telling you that you needed to leave. Now.

Tom spoke your name, his voice still soft. “I think that you and I go together so well. You’re incredibly witty, charming, and so lovely.” You felt him stroke the side of your face. You went to push his hand away, but it was gone when you lifted your hand to your face. “I’m curious to see if our compatibility goes beyond the conversational level, aren’t you?”

When you looked at him again, your head spinning with the effort, his handsome face still held the same charm and sincerity from before.

“Tom, I want to leave. Right now!” You wrenched yourself free from his grasp and turned toward the street. Your movements had been too sudden and you stumbled forward, haphazardly throwing your hands out to avoid falling on your face. You closed your eyes and braced for the feeling of asphalt on your palms, but it never came. When you opened your eyes, you saw the dark olive drab of a military uniform and felt strong arms around you. Of course Tom had easily caught you. You prepared to scream for help—

“The hell is going on out here?”

The person who’d caught you hadn’t been Tom. It was that major. He stood with you still limp in his arms, Millie close behind him looking panicked.

He looked at you, then at Tom, then back at you, his expression quickly morphing from confusion to alarm. You must have been quite a sight.

With urgency in his voice, he spoke your name. “Are you alright? What’s the matter?”

You stood up, another wave of dizziness crashing over you as Millie rushed to help you. “I think I’m…quite unwell, Mister…sorry, Major…” You looked at him quizzically, his name escaping you. Why couldn’t you think of his name? His face had been in your thoughts constantly over the past few days.

The man reluctantly removed his arms from around you and allowed Millie to support you. “It’s Bucky. But you still only call me Major Egan, remember?” He looked terribly worried, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to address it. Your only concern right now was getting away from Tom and into bed. You were so tired. When you didn’t respond to him, stumbling once more into Millie, his expression changed again to one of fury. He turned toward Tom, who had begun inching his way out of sight.

Bucky moved fast enough to exacerbate your dizziness, grabbing Tom by the lapels of his jacket and shoving him against the wall. “You put somethin’ in her drink? Did you do this to her?” The quiet, menacing calm of his voice was a stark contrast to his violent actions.

Tom had the good sense to look frightened for a moment, before flashing his handsome smile at the seething major. “I was just offering to escort her back to base,” he said. “Clearly the poor thing can’t take her liquor. I didn’t do a damn thing to her drink.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” replied Bucky, before he let go of Tom’s jacket and punched him in the face. Hard. Millie shrieked.

Tom fell to the ground in a graceless heap, his nose bleeding and misshapen. Putting a hand up to his nose, he yelled, “What the hell was-”

“You need to get the fuck out of here right now or your nose won’t be the only thing I break tonight.” Bucky’s fist was clenched, blood on the knuckles. Tom scrambled away and was soon out of sight.

Bucky turned back toward you and Millie. “She needs to see a doctor,” he said to your friend.

Millie let out a sigh and replied with a tired voice. “No, she doesn’t; not right now anyway.”

Bucky gestured furiously at you. “Look at her!” You frowned and looked away.

Millie spoke with a cold gravity you had never heard from her before. “I see her, Bucky, and unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen something like this. I know how to help, and I’m taking her back to base. Her symptoms should be gone tomorrow, but she needs rest.”

Bucky said nothing for several seconds, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He said quickly, “Alright. Fine. But if anything, anything, seems off, you take her straight to Smokey, understand?”

“I understand. I’ll take her tomorrow, just to make sure everything’s okay.” Millie began leading you toward the front of the building and the street, with Bucky following close behind. Eventually you were back in front of the pub.

Bucky looked at you, began to reach toward you, then put his hand in his pocket. “Let me take you home. Or would a room here be better?”

You stiffened.

“Excuse me?” you said, your head pounding.

Bucky looked taken aback at your sudden tone. “I just wondered if it would be better for you to get a room here for the night so you can rest.”

Son of a bitch.

You pointed a finger at his chest, missing and poking his shoulder. “You. Is this what you wanted?”

Bucky furrowed his brow and shook his head. “What are you talking about? You think I wanted this to happen?”

“I saw you. I saw you looking at us…looking at mm..me. Was this part of your plan?”

Millie, who had her arm looped through yours, put a hand on your shoulder and said, “Honey, I know you’re confused, it’s not your f-”

“Did you think that you would play the knight in shining armor and that...that I would fall into your arms, overcome with- with gratitude? You thought I would g..go to bed with you?” Bucky shook his head vehemently and opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going. “I knew it. I knew that a dance would never just be a dance with you. I knew it.” You swayed, but Millie tightened her hold on you and you stayed upright. “I knew it,” you said to her.

She rubbed your back soothingly. “Okay, honey. Let’s get you in bed, alright?” She turned to Bucky and spoke so quietly you couldn’t hear her over the noise of the music inside. You watched as Bucky nodded, his lips pressed tightly together. He looked back at you, nothing but concern in his eyes. But that’s how Tom had looked.

Fighting the pain at the front of your skull and the increasing urge to vomit in the nearest waste bin, you let go of Millie’s arm and took a wobbly step toward him. He removed his hands from his pockets, ready to catch you again, but you stayed upright. You said to him in a low voice, “I think you’re despicable.” The major said nothing, still watching you with the same worried look on his face. Inside the pub, you heard the pianist start playing “Blue Skies”, followed by at least two shouts of Bucky’s name. “Sounds like you’re missing your ‘signature song,’ Major. Please, don’t let me keep you.”

With that, you allowed Millie to once again wind her arm through yours and lead you away from the pub, hopefully on a path toward your bed. She sighed. “Don’t worry, I told him you didn’t mean a word you said.” You frowned at her, confused. “I’m so sorry; if I had any idea that Tom was such a…” She sighed again. “Never mind. It does no good to apologize to you now when you won’t remember it. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

As you made your way back to your barracks, fighting sleep the whole way, all you could think of was a slow song and two grey eyes staring into yours.

#guys i wasn't kidding about the tone shift but I promise things will get better!#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #john bucky egan #john egan #mota #masters of the air #mota fic #callum turner #reader insert #fanfiction #Spotify

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bg3-stole-my-soul · 10 days

Text

❤️Tall Fem! Tav x Astarion Headcanons❤️

So— Tall Fem!Tavs— we need more love and I am going to attempt to play with the idea because in fandom spaces I only ever see fem Tavs that are shorter than Astarion and it makes my tall self’s heart ache.

I also know in game it doesn’t matter if your Tav is taller than Astarion…. But like what if it did— 👀

I am going to keep this as racially, background, and class ambiguous as possible however it is very clear the short races like halflings, dwarves, and gnomes this is most certainly not applicable to. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but this is for us 🤌😌

So on that note physically this Tav is tall, muscular, and probably a lil physically intimidating— and like almost every character I write is of Chaotic Good alignment. Tav is a big, sweet, mischievous muscle mommy with big hands—

This is my first time doing a post like this so please be gracious. I did my best to keep this in character for Astarion, while also sweet and mostly focused on his POV.

Being taller than most of your companions wasn’t a bad thing exactly, just a thing. You had outgrown many of your peers ages ago and while it had embarrassed you for a long time, you eventually embraced it. The stares of others became empowering instead of making you try to shrink yourself in any way you could. However this did not save you from being nabbed by mind flayers and infected— damn. It also surprised you when an elf shorter than you managed to catch you by surprise and hold a knife to your throat.

I don’t think Astarion is the type to be insecure regarding his height, man’s petty enough to climb the counters to the top shelf if he damn well feels like it. However upon meeting a female Tav who’s taller than him, stronger than him, he is ever so slightly worried. It makes him want to spur his plan of manipulation for protection into action quickly. Only because he doesn’t want to run the risk of getting snapped like a toothpick—

On that note, watching you fight absolutely does something to this man. Being able to see your muscles all the way from his perch on the other side of the battlefield is certainly something he can appreciate. He can absolutely admit that you are fine af, especially covered in blood.

At first he would be annoyed if you did things like pat him on the head with your huge hands- after all he puts a lot of work into his hair that he can’t see— but comes to realize it’s your way of gentle support. And he supposes it’s better than other things… Eventually he grows to love you resting your big hands on his head or shoulders. And even further down the line holding your hand, his slender fingers tangled in yours.

When this man chooses to try and bite you in your sleep it is absolutely out of sheer desperation because he is terrified of those arms staking him. But when you accept what he is without any real complaint.. he is pleasantly surprised. He likes you’ve got a good heart in that big chest of yours.

When he gets downed in a fight and wakes up to find himself in your arms being carried back to camp OH BOY that might be the first moment he realizes he’s in trouble.

The next time is absolutely the morning after the tiefling party. He wakes up at the crack of dawn snuggled into your tiddies— and as the old meme states “World hard and cold, tiddy soft and warm”. If he weren’t so excited to bask in the sun he would have stayed there all morning. Post confession it is his favorite way to cuddle.

He believes your arms are the safest place to be, and he is probably right. Being held by you makes him feel like he is surrounded in warmth, and if he sleeps there he usually has less nightmares. Drinking your blood with your arms wrapped around him is genuinely sweet and euphoric for this man.

❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️

~ ❤️18+ HEADCANONS BELOW❤️~

He also enjoys the two of you just snuggling and admiring one another’s appearances, it’s intimate, and it feels right. He loves being able to take his time tracing his hands everywhere on your larger body, finding the places that make you laugh and squirm for him.

He also doesn’t mind a little manhandling if it’s from you, because he knows despite your size you will happily let him move you where he wants or stop if he’s no longer comfortable.

Back at the tiefling party he let you top, and while he does enjoy that, he enjoys it just as much if not more when he does. He enjoys getting to look down at you, and see you come undone at his touch. Call it vanilla, but this man loves being able to watch your face during sex, being able to look into your eyes is a BIG thing for this man.

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #baldur's gate iii #astarion x mc #astarion x durge #astarion x tall tav #bg3 headcanons #astarion x reader #first headcanon post

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jiminrings · 1 year

Note

U KNOWWWWW I HAVE TO ASK FOR SOME ANGST MISS JAY EM RINGS!!!! pretty pretty pls can we get a 478 drabble where oc is a lil more emotional and sensitive and jungkook accidentally upsets her for whatever reason

478: drabble

alternatively, jungkook says the wrong thing at the wrong time :(

[ 478 masterlist ]

You’re a little more anxious as you let it out to be.

Being just a week away from approaching your second trimester, you’ve been filled with so much nervousness regarding every single thing that you do, not just pregnancy-wise. You’ve been reevaluating everything that’s on your shoulders, the most pressing of them being the fact that the first trimester’s the most sensitive.

Except from the occasional morning sickness, the lethargy, and the ever-pressing matter of you overthinking things — your pregnancy’s going along well.

So well that sometimes it doesn’t cross your mind that your taste (and basically your whole worldview) is bound to change.

The minute you step into the bathroom to shower, Jungkook’s just gotten out of it to get his day started (read: prep your meals for work) and although your attention would normally be fixated first on the fact that he only has a towel wrapped around his waist, something else catches your attention and it irks you.

You catch a whiff of his perfume, (un)pleasantly reminded by the fact that he sprays himself with it twice; first on his bare skin, then second on his clothes when he’s all dressed. It’s only Jungkook’s first layer of perfume and yet it already riles you up for all the wrong reasons.

“Is that you?”

“Is what me?” he furrows his eyebrows, catching your drift when he sees your nose upturning. Jungkook trails off, a smirk already forming on his face this early in the morning. “Yes…? I’ve been using the same perfume for like, years, baby.”

“I don’t like it,” you quip immediately. “It’s making me nauseous.”

“What? But I love this perfume,” Jungkook frowns, taken aback because he swears you were all over with him just yesterday over his scent.

You did love the perfume. You’ve loved it for years and for some reason, the smell of cotton and musk turned sour for you overnight, making you grimace.

“You make me wanna puke.”

“Fine, I’ll change it,” Jungkook dramatically sighs, rolling his eyes playfully. His voice lilts into a tease, bottom lip jutting out before pecking your cheek. “After everything I do for you?”

Maybe it’s because of the fog on your head, and maybe it’s also because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed because you literally can’t sleep properly.

It’s that lilt in his voice, the same lilt you know would be playful for you at every other occasion, that also turned sour in your head by the minute.

“What about everything I do for you?” you mumble, brows slightly furrowed. It’s a surprise that he even hears your question.

Jungkook can’t catch on that you’re not joking with him like how he’s teasing you at the moment. He mistakes your genuine self-doubt to be your stellar acting just as always.

He shrugs, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Eh. You’re doing fine.”

The joking tone never reaches your ears because they already started ringing the moment you smelled your husband’s perfume. It never reaches you because you can’t help but to feel wired this way, literally, and you just can’t help it —

You can’t help but to feel upset.

You weren’t doing good. Not even great at the slightest. You’re doing just fine and fine isn’t good enough for you — not when you’re at the crux of your career and you have to juggle it with being pregnant; becoming a first-time mom in just a matter of months.

You go through the motions of preparing yourself for work, mechanically staying put when Jungkook kisses you goodbye.

Even after filming, you stay back on set to nab yourself an early copy of the script for your next episode and ask for notes from the director of what he needed from you; of everything that you’re lacking now that you want to give

You’ve hung back even longer than Jimin and soon enough, you realize that it’s only some of the crew that you’re alone with — them, and Yoongi.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks with a tap on your shoulder that snaps you out of your reference, surprising himself when you jolt in the slightest. He’s concerned at the way you did so good today but no one’s barely gotten a word out of you outside of filming, the look of worry etched on your face even now. “You look out of it.”

The question is warranted, although sudden in your perspective. You’re so out of it that you didn’t even know that everybody noticed.

You’re snapped out from your reverie because in either courage or foolery, you delve deeper. Yoongi’s a treasured friend to you and he would never lie; you have to hear it from him of all people.

“Am I doing great?” you ask, your lips pursed as you’re already anticipating the worst.

Yoongi doesn’t even flinch despite being slightly confused, a comforting smile immediately gracing his face.

“Of course you are,” he answers. “You’re already a great mom.”

The tears build up in your eyes so quick that you’re momentarily blinded by them, crying into the heels of your hands as an aftermath. Yoongi’s frozen on what he should do from seeing you so vulnerable.

“I didn’t even say where am I doing great at. I-I didn’t have to,” you sob. For all he knows, you could be asking about your performance at work and yet it wasn’t the first thing his mind went to. “You already knew.”

“Hey, hey. Everybody knows you’re great. The baby isn’t even here yet and you’re already doing so well,” he shushes you, tentatively rubbing comforting circles on your back. You seem to calm down by the minute, and the moment you stop hiccuping, he offers. “Need a ride?”

Yoongi opens the door for you, drives you with no question, and even leads you up to the steps of your front door. He doesn’t hang back to greet Jungkook because he has a hint that there’s some trouble in paradise, hesitant to cross lines this late into the evening so he heads back to his car.

When you come back home to Jungkook though, he’s a nervous mess.

“Where have you been?” he shoots straight up from the couch, eyes and hands frantically checking you over.

“Work. Where else?” you mumble, slyly dodging a hand that comes up to your cheek.

Jungkook knew there was something off from you since you left but he can’t place it even now; even when you came home late with your eyes still refusing to meet his.

“It’s already past midnight. It’s the next day. Why didn’t you tell me you’d be out this late? You told me today was a quick shoot,” he starts, grinding his jaw when he hears you huff under your breath.

You don’t seem to take him seriously, not even the panic that’s clear on his face and from the couple hundred texts he sent you that you didn’t even read.

“I’m a big girl, Jungkook,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m — we’re here in one piece. Yoongi drove me home anyway.”

“Where was Jimin?” he inquires instantly. “He’s your manager. Why didn’t he wait for you? He knows you’re pregnant, he wouldn’t let you strain yourself like this.”

On normal days, you’d have the patience to explain why Jimin sometimes doesn’t see you through the end of your endeavors. Technically, your work was already done hours before, it was just you who didn’t want to come home at the time.

But today’s the furthest thing from a normal day.

“I’m doing just fine, Jungkook. Stop worrying about me.”

“Of course I’m gonna worry about you! The two of you! Why didn’t you-…” he strains, gesturing to your stomach.

“Well then stop!” you burst, finally letting loose. “After everything you do for me, stop worrying.”

Your husband instantly freezes, the recollection of almost this same exact scene earlier into the morning playing out in his head.

His chest tightens, eyes wide and unblinking.

“Is this about what I said?”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. I don’t fucking know, okay? I’m anxious and I’m on edge with everything and-…” you inhale sharply, running a hand through your hair. The lump that builds in your throat gets in the way, making you screw your eyes shut. “Just… shut up sometimes. I don’t need to hear what I’m thinking about myself from you. I don’t want to know I’m doing a shit job.”

“You’re not doing a shit job. You’re great at everything,” Jungkook interjects, his face falling at how dense he could be. “I-I… I was only joking around awhile ago, I swear. I didn’t mean it.”

He made you feel this way and he wants nothing else but to beat himself up over it, your husband’s mind running a hundred miles per hour just thinking of how utterly stupid he has to be to even joke about it.

“I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve reeled it in sooner. I’m not gonna do jokes like that again, I promise,” Jungkook embraces you desperately, his close proximity to you making you take notice that he’s wearing a different perfume.

If you think about it longer, the perfume Jungkook’s wearing right now smells like yours.

“Perfect mom. Perfect actress. Perfect wife, everything,” he mumbles against your temple, pressing small warm kisses to your face. “You give me beyond everything that I could do for you. You’re growing a human inside you and I’m just standing here.”

“You don’t just stand around,” you mutter, slowly reciprocating his hug. “You make efforts for me too.”

“Not as great as what you do for me,” he corrects. “For us.”

Jungkook figures it’ll be a sleepless night for him because he’ll be tossing and turning just regretting what he did, but at the very least, he knows he’ll be sleepless with you.

“Do you forgive me? You don’t have to right now. I’ll still mope and you can sleep on it,” he asks. “I can sleep on the floor tonight.”

“Not even the couch?” you joke, your snort making him smile briefly.

“Sleeping on the couch wouldn’t be a punishment.”

“You want to repent so bad?” you joke with mischief painted on your face and yet it doesn’t register on him.

“Of course I do,” Jungkook nods, the playfulness never reaching his ears because he’s entirely serious. “You’re too good for me.”

#478 drabbles #jungkook oneshot #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook angst

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