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writercole · 1 year

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The Confession

Summary: Jake found her. Now what's he going to do?

Words: 1510

Warnings: Physical assault, confession of feelings, lying

A/N: I can't believe this is the end. I'm technically drafting this post before the series even starts for you guys so I have no idea how much you're going to even like it. But I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Aside from Sounds of Someday, I think this is my favorite.

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Jake paced on the sidewalk, trying to figure out what to do. He’d finally gotten his mom to give up Y/N’s location. It was a fight that took a three hour lecture about hypocrisy and waiting too long, but she relented, threatening to disown him if he hurt her adoptive daughter again. He’d planned a speech before he got on the plane, rehearsed it for the several hour flight, but now that he was here, he had no idea what to say. On his third lap around the block, he finally got the courage to walk up to the door and knock, deciding to just wing it.

The door swung open to reveal a bleach blonde man a couple inches shorter than Jake, one he’d met only a time or two. “Billy,” he grumbled.

“Bagman,” Billy spat, leaning his forearm on the door frame. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Y/N,” Jake told him, raising his chin and daring him to deny the request, “and it’s Hangman.”

“She ain’t here,” Billy informed him, “and I doubt she’d want to talk to you anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Bagman, that she didn’t want you to know where she was for the last month. She told me that you’d fucked her over for the last time and that she was done with you.”

“Fucked her over?” Jake scoffed. “Are you sure you don’t have the two of us confused? I’m not the one who bailed on her four months ago after trying like hell to dull her spark for a year.”

“I didn’t bail on her,” Billy denied, “she broke up with me.”

“You were leaving her and you know it. Now just tell me where she is before I beat it out of you.”

“I don’t know why you’re even making a fuss over an easy whore,” Billy sneered. “You could get anyone you want, or so I hear. Though I have to say, it’s some damn good pussy for an easy whore.”

Jake didn’t even realize he was moving. He saw red as soon as the words exited Billy’s mouth, his arm cocking back and pushing his fist into Billy’s jaw with enough force to knock the man backwards several steps.

Tires squealing on asphalt was the only thing that stopped Jake from swinging again.

She was rushing out of the house to handle an issue on base when Billy finally showed up to talk. Instead of telling him to come back, she told him to sit in the kitchen and wait for her. She didn't plan on being gone for almost an hour. She groaned in frustration when she finally climbed back into her car.

She was halfway back when her phone alerted her to camera activity on her porch. She checked it at a stoplight and swore when she saw that Jake was standing at the door talking to Billy. Unmuting the video, she listened to their argument as she drove, speeding and taking corners much faster than she should have. She pulled into the driveway and saw Jake swing, hitting Billy in the jaw.

“Shit,” she swore again, rushing out of her car and into the middle of the two men. “What is going on?”

“He just showed up here and punched me!” Billy accused, rubbing his jaw and shooting daggers at Jake.

“I came over here to talk to you and this guy,” Jake explained, pointing at Billy in the doorway, “wanted to start shit and called you an easy whore. So yes, I punched him.”

“I never said that!” Billy shouted, stepping towards Jake. “He’s the one who called you a whore.”

“You son of a bitch!” Jake yelled, lunging for Billy.

She grabbed Jake’s arm and he stopped in his tracks, taking a step behind her. She turned to face him with tears in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that guy,” Jake spat, “is a total jerk and you deserve someone better. Someone who respects you and would treat you like a queen.”

“And who would that be, Jake? I don’t exactly have a whole lot of options.”

“He’s just running his mouth so that he can sleep with you,” Billy goaded from behind her, “that’s all he’s ever wanted from you. Why he thinks you’re easy, I’ll never know.”

“You lying bastard!” Jake shouted as he pushed her away, pulling his fist back to hit Billy again, stopping when something got between them.

Valkyrie stood between them and pushed Jake back, reaching in her pocket and unlocking her phone. She navigated to the recording of the argument and pressed play, Billy’s voice clear as day repeating the words he was denying. She stared him down, daring him to tell her that the recording was wrong.

“Please stop lying, Billy,” she growled as she locked her phone.

“What? Baby, you can’t believe this guy. He’s dicked you around for how long now?” Billy rebutted, taking a step towards her.

Jake stepped up behind her, staring daggers at the man trying to bargain his way back into Y/N’s arms.

“Get out, Billy. You can’t own up to your actions, even when they’re on video. We’re done. Over. Go find yourself another easy whore,” she repeated, her words sharp and final.

“Fine,” Billy spat as his eyes became fiery, “but don’t come crawling back to me when this piece of shit breaks your heart.”

Before Jake could make a move, she had pulled her fist back and released it right into Billy’s nose.

“Get. Out. Of. My. House,” she sneered as she looked down on him.

Billy turned and stomped away, firing up his car and peeling out of her driveway. She turned to Jake with slumped shoulders and watery eyes, looking up at his face in exhaustion.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“Now, don’t be mad,” he prefaced, “but Mom told Phoenix when she called looking for information.”

“Why are you here, then, Hangman?” she sighed.

“You didn’t say goodbye when you left,” he said.

“Really? You’re here because I didn’t say goodbye?” she scoffed. “I told you that Simpson needed me -”

“No, he didn’t,” Jake interrupted. “Simpson didn’t call you back. You called him to get you out.”

“I don’t want -”

“You need to tell me why you left,” he whispered, “please. I have to know why you ran away.”

She sighed again, squeezing her eyes shut. “You have to know? Okay, fine. I heard you talking to Suze. Telling her that we weren’t together and that she didn’t need to be jealous. I couldn’t take it. I thought…” she trailed off, biting her lip and tapping her foot as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought that something had shifted the day before, that we had something. I know we said no feelings but I was right. I fell in love with you and you don’t feel the same way. So I left. You could have your time with Suze and I could get away and not have to see it.”

“Is that all you heard?” he questioned quietly, searching her face for answers.

“What else did I need to hear? You said plenty,” she snapped, her gaze finally meeting his again, fire burning behind the tears.

“I did say plenty, but you didn’t hear all of it,” he replied as he stepped towards her, hooking his finger under her chin to keep her focus. “I told Suze that it would never happen with her. That it was a mistake that I was ever with her and that you were the one I wanted by my side.

“You see, it happened so slowly that I didn’t realize it. When Suze approached me, I looked for you, I tried to find you so that I could get away from her without my family asking me why I was pissed. When I finally found you, you were leaving. In that moment, when you were running away, I knew I was a goner. You jumped into that cab and you took my heart with you. I’ve barely been able to breathe since you’ve been gone.

“I know I said that I wasn’t trying to marry you, but that’s changed, Y/N. I’m hopelessly in love with you and I don’t want to spend another day without you by my side.”

Tears started falling down her cheeks, the fire in her eyes had died out only to be replaced with hope and longing. “Don’t mess around with me,” she said, her voice wavering with emotion.

“I would never dream of it,” he assured her, his thumbs brushing the tears from her face. “You’re it for me, Y/N. And if you say no, if you tell me to get out and never come back, I will. But I really hope you don’t. I hope you give me the chance to be the man you have always deserved.”

“Jake,” she mumbled as she gazed up at him.

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me.”

Everything: @thelastpyle @deangirl93 @evergreencowboy @katelyn--renee @fictional-affairs @paintlavillered @buckys-zomdoll @polireader @b3autyfuldisast3r @welcometothefandommultiverse @mlovesstories @supraveng @xoxabs88xox

Top Gun: @princessmisery666 @evansrogerskitten @bradshaw-fanclub @saiyanprincessswanie @luckyladycreator2 @princessphilly @ahockeywrites @clints-lucky-arrow @wildbornsiren @shanimallina87 @fuckyeahhangman @blue-aconite @hope-love-equality2 @peachiicherries @marvelousmermaid @therebeccaw @green-socks @imjess-themess @jostystyles @mayhem24-7forever @callsignaries @a-reader-and-a-writer @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

#writercole #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman x reader #the best benefits #hangman x valkyrie #the end #top gun maverick

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kshira · 2 years

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— 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: manjiro has two things to worry about—you and his gang but which one is more important?

𝐓𝐖: fem!reader, cursing, fingering, lots of fluff, one clit kiss (lmao) emotional love ig?

𝐖𝐂: 2k

𝐀𝐍: thank you to everyone that has been patient with me, this chapter is shorter in means of the breaks but it’s a build up for something far longer :,)

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

(also: i’m a big dumb idiot so anyone that wants to be tagged in the future please comment here or send me an ask or whatever, i’ll be sure to start tagging)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗: 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

“you don’t have to leave right now, do you?” mikey mumbles into the crevice of your neck, swinging an arm around your waist to flush you against his chest. “missed you so much, angel” his breath cascades down your skin, tongue sliding on the hot flesh while needy fingers slide down your panties.

manjiro was reluctant to give himself all to you��he honestly didn’t mind going down on you since he wasn’t allowing his heart to be wide open but now with the self doubt diminishing by the minute he seemed to want you all the time.

“manjiro don’t you have a meeting?” your voice coats into a moan as he cups your pussy, slowly grinding his hardening cock on your back. “you’re so wet princess even after i’ve fucked you so many times” he ignores you, sliding a finger through your folds.

he slowly pumps two fingers into your hole, panting into your ear while you hear his small whimpers against the shell, already spreading your legs for easier access manjiro groans deep enough to feel the vibrations against your back.

just when you really want manjiro the most his phone begins ringing pulling him from a trance he snatches the phone off the nightstand but keeps moving his fingers inside you, “i’m busy so this better be fuckin’ important” he flicks his wrist tempting an orgasm to arise in your stomach.

“i’ll be there when i get there, sanzu” mikey hisses, pulling his fingers from your sopping cunt and laying them on your thighs, his nails dig into the flesh when an array of shouting bellows through the speaker, manjiro quickly ends the call tossing the phone on the floor.

he climbs on top of you, dark vivid eyes closely examine your flushed expression and tattered lip from holding back those pretty moans. “stay here i’ll be back” he mumbles, narrowing his vision at you, possessively caging you in—manjiro continues looking you over until you begin wiggling in his grasp.

“stay here—like at your place while you’re gone?” you squeak out, mikey slinks away from your body gathering his clothes from the floor while he slips them back on, he grunts back a reply which doesn’t suit your answer so you climb off the bed standing in front of him.

“i’m not your housewife or just a live-in girlfriend—i can’t just stay here and wait dreamily for you to come back to me.” manjiro flinches when your hands cup his cheek, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, “you’re my girlfriend?” he questions, a smirk bleeding through your connected lips. a huff slips past your mouth, scoffing him off as he wraps his arms around you.

“when did you become my girlfriend, angel?” mikey presses, hugging your body closer to his as you try to squirm away. “i assumed that’s what we were doing now, you know? dating and all that bullshit.”

“pretty girl don’t throw a tantrum now, of course i assumed we were going to be more than just fucking but i never asked you to be mine” manjiro grabs his keys from the nightstand, pressing another kiss against your lips before walking from his room—you follow right on his heels until he’s about to leave.

“now be a good girl and stay here until i get back, okay?” the door slams and you’ll be damned if you’d actually listen to what he commands especially the dodging question of dating you and more importantly—you were not his good girl so what made you have to do what he says?

“so”

ran has been repeating the same phrase over and over looking at his boss for some kind of ploy of what he was exactly doing, manjiro kept his face forward scanning over documents until he became fixated on a certain one.

“the deal has to be closed today, we need your word” sanzu adds, peering over mikey’s shoulders until manjiro leans up meeting his gaze. “whatever you choose i’m fine with it” manjiro mumbles, bleak eyes scanning over the pixels on the screen, noises of clicking and approval humming coming from his chest.

“you’re the boss for a reason, boss” ran taps his finger on the table, mikey rakes his eyes up to him squinting at his underling before slamming the laptop close, “what are you trying to say, ran?”

“he’s trying to say you should be more involved” the younger haitani interrupts, manjiro’s jaw clenches as he looks over rindou and then takes his eyes to ran. “do not tell me how to run this gang, you’re getting paid, aren’t you?” mikey grits his teeth, ran takes a step back offering a solemn smile.

manjiro feels anger circuit through his veins, blistering at the nerves attached to every fiber of his being. mikey can’t be angry about the truth nor can he deny that he’s letting a lot of things slip in the name of loving someone so quickly—and so easily.

but he doesn’t want his weakness to show as manjiro excuses himself from the meeting, pulling out his phone and calling your number without a second thought.

yet his body internally begins to scream when you don’t answer and manjiro is left wondering why? isn’t that how love works? you’re always there for one another or is his twisted concept not for you?

“i’m here to pay my rent” you stand at the receptionist desk, staring at the person behind the desk slowly looking over the computer in front of them, you ignore the vibrations pulsating from your pocket as they finally gather the information.

“it’s already been paid” the reply is dry, bored eyes looking you over until they’re set back on the computer. “paid? what do you mean paid?” you demand, completely confused as to how it could even be paid with the little amount of money you had collected for the bill still in your bank account.

“it’s paid for six months including all of your other bills, ma’am” you can’t help but flinch at the words—you only knew of one person that would possibly ever want to pay all of your bills, that mentioned it more than on one occasion and it made your blood boil.

after excusing yourself from the receptionist desk you pull your phone out calling back manjiro—like you assumed he answers quickly, “why weren’t you at my house when i got home?” manjiro asks, he was being stern almost like mikey was scolding you like a child.

“i was paying my bills, i’ll be back after—” you pause, listening to what exactly you were saying—they were excuses, as if you were trying to justify why you weren’t there. mikey breathes into the phone, your stomach clenches as the silence draws on.

manjiro was consuming your life more than you had even allowed, your interview had been left unwritten, work was a vague thought and your heart belonged to him without even a consent.

you’re reminded of the interview and how manjiro set this whole thing off just for his convenience—if only you could go back before being a pawn in his hand. “why did you even want someone to interview you if it was just to get close to my boss?” you blurt out, fist clenching beside your body.

“didn't have to get my hands dirty—he’d come to me without all that hard work. this deal is worth a lot of money and i couldn’t fuck it up but i didn’t know i’d be falling in love with the person interviewing me.”

your chest feels hollow where your heart belongs, erratic nerves jumping from one limb to the other until you begin to twitch—manjiro always threw those words out so casually, it didn’t feel like love—torture was the better word.

“what am i to you, manjiro?”

silence drapes the phone, tears swell your eyes while you prepare yourself for the suffering of finally falling in love but only it ends with a stifle of choked words. “answer me manjiro, please” you plead, finally he clears his throat.

“i didn’t want you to fall in love with me. i am a horrible person, i can’t even begin to describe what i’ve done to people, how much i crave power. i destroy anything and everything that doesn't go my way, i’m afraid of nothing but being in love with you scares the shit out of me.”

you inhale a sharp breath, looking out into the apartment complex front doors you can’t help but think of only manjiro and how much you crave to be with him—through destruction and mayhem you’d do it all just to be with mikey and that’s the only answer you truly need.

“it’s what i love the most about you, i love your flaws and your painful past. i want to protect you, love and care for you. whatever happens now, i just want to be with you. so tell me now, manjiro sano—what am i to you?”

“you’re my everything. you are my savior to freedom and i want you more than anything, be mine—will you?” mikey whispers into the phone, and for once he feels weightless like manjiro is able to touch the limitless earth without anything holding him back.

manjiro stands outside your apartment, slowly knocking until you abruptly open the door, eyes widened when he automatically engulfs you in a hug, “i just had to see you—i need you so bad” mikey whispers, dipping his face into the crevice of your neck.

his grip is tight bringing you down to the ground with him as manjiro holds you tighter—“i love you so much, so fucking much” he croaks, hands finding your face to cup your cheeks—it happens so fast you don’t even know how to truly act, moving your lips with his as manjiro needily pushes your back to the floor.

your hands wrap around manjiro’s neck, ankles linking on his waist while your lips crash with one another, he groans into your mouth—grinding down on your clothed cunt. “you are mine” manjiro mumbles between heavy pants, clawing at your bottoms and slipping them off.

the door managed to be closed but both still laid in the floor of your apartment, his head between your legs as you fist manjiro’s face closer to your heat. “remember that angel, remember that you are mine” mikey whispers, pressing a kiss on your puffy clit before he climbs back over you, mouth ghosting over your parted lips.

“i’m yours manjiro” you mumble between kisses, half naked and exposed he takes his jacket throwing it over your legs, “i promise to be with you as long as you’ll have me. my job, my life— it’s all yours angel, all fuckin’ yours.”

nights spent alone questioning the possibilities have had manjiro pondering what a life would be like with you—he has to admit falling in love has had him on his toes, fear embodies his soul and the driving force of sanity runs thin but then as mikey thinks of a life without you—it hurts so much more, so whatever happens now; you’re his and that will never change.

darkness looms over the room, bleak eyes casting upon a smaller silhouette as it enters the room, silence resumes past the small pads of feet snapping against the floor. the tension hangs heavy on manjiro’s shoulders while he takes the seat above all of his men—for he is the master of all those mindless puppets.

“i’ve been lacking in control of this gang—i have a deal set up that will gain us more men and money. if anyone questions the way i run bonten, i have a gun. and if anybody even looks at my girl the wrong way, i have bullets” manjiro says rather simply, most of the underlings knew who you were and if they didn’t—well, they did now.

with the thought of you—manjiro feels powerful, almost like the earth is at his fingertips, the force of his gang keeps his head forward and his heart captured on your sleeve leaves him immobile.

manjiro is juggling his livelihood, passion for creating something greater and now a new relationship with you—but he promised himself and more importantly promised you; he’d be yours until you no longer wanted him.

tagging! —

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyorev smut #tokrev smut #mikey x reader #mikey smut #manjiro sano smut #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro x reader #manjiro smut #tokyo revengers x you smut

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whumpshaped · 1 year

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Drabble #2

inspo masterlist

trigger warnings: kidnapping, implied torture, restrained

“I’m not the person you want!” Len screamed for the hundredth time. “I can help you find him, I’m willing to help, please!”

“That’s the best one I’ve heard so far,” Kalysta laughed. “Kidnappers usually join the search party, isn’t that right?”

“But I’m not a kidnapper! And I’m definitely not the person you’re looking for!” He was hanging by his wrists in a dingy little basement, his feet barely brushing the floor, and he was in pain. If that hadn’t been enough, this person, Kalysta, was entirely convinced that he was some kind of serial killer on the loose or whatever. They never bothered to explain what they were really accusing him of.

“I know damn well who I’m looking for. I could say names, but you’ve had so many in the span of just a few years that I doubt you’d even recognise them all.”

They definitely had the wrong fucking person. “Listen to me. Please, listen to me. I have no idea what you’re talking about. My full name is Lennox Glazier, my friends call me Len, those are the only two names I’ve ever gone by. Please, you can go outside and ask anyone, I’m fairly known in this neighbourhood, because I live just down the street. I mean- I, I live just down the street from where- from where you took me. Please. They know me, they can attest to all that I’m saying, I’ve been living there my entire life. Never even moved aside from when I started renting an apartment across the street from my childhood home. Please, ask anyone. They’ll all tell you that I couldn’t be some kind of secret agent if I tried.”

The words were flooding from his mouth with the speed of lightning, and he could only hope Kalysta believed him. He was giving out personal information, things that might’ve even put his own family in danger, but in a situation like this, he only wanted to save himself. Kalysta had to believe him, they had no other choice, the facts were all there to disprove their theory, no one who allegedly had several aliases could fake a life from birth to present day like that.

Kalysta eyed him warily, their eyes narrowed and full of suspicion. “I won’t check with any of those people,” they said simply.

Len felt like he’d just been punched in the gut. Turns out, Kalysta did have another choice, even when faced with unshakeable facts of cold, hard truth: they could choose to ignore all of them.

@ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen

#whump #whump drabble #implied torture #kidnapping #restrained

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wild-houseplant · 1 year

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Have Warden, Will Travel- Chapter 24

Back on my long-winded bullshit again, folks. And STILL they’re not kissing. Well, no, that’s not entirely true. Rhodri kisses Zevran. You’ll see what I mean when you read further. AO3 here, and the rest is under the cut! CW for ableism, it's painful if you're autistic (and no doubt other NDs) so heads up.

Hope you bunch are having a happy weekend!! Please drink your fluids!!!

“… Rhod?” Alistair said her name with the cautiousness of someone waking a bear. “There’s… something wedding-related I’m curious about now.”

Rhodri smiled, her eyes gleaming. “Oh-h-h,” her hands– momentarily, before she caught herself doing it– drummed against her thighs. “Have you and Leliana changed your mind about marrying? I know we only left the topic a few moments ago, but it’s never too soon to–”

“No, no,” he waved his hands like he was trying to flag a ship down, and Leliana got a worried look again. “Not us, not us!”

“Ah.” She deflated, if only slightly. “Ah, well. I suppose there need not be a wedding to have cake, sic?”

“Erm… yeah, definitely.” He blinked. “Anyway, that thing you said about marrying someone you don’t like…”

“Mm? It’s perfectly true,” Rhodri said with a nod. “Affairs can only be so distracting, see? At some point or another, you need to see your spouse.”

“... Right. So Tevinters are, erm… expected to marry someone they don’t love, or even like?”

Rhodri shrugged. “It happens often enough.”

“Will you have to?”

Zevran decided, before the panic could decide for him, that he was listening as intently as he usually did to group conversations. If he was paying closer attention now, it was quite simply because he was paying attention to the fact that he was paying attention, which increased the rate of attention paid exponentially. It was inevitable.

Besides, if she ended up in a marriage to some contemptuous oaf, who was to say she couldn’t have her affair with Zevran? Plenty of rich Tevinters had their way with handsome elves– behind closed doors, of course. And Zevran was a man who dwelled in the shadows. It was the perfect set-up. He would have to bring up the idea with Rhodri later.

Rhodri hummed thoughtfully. “I must marry, and fairly soon. That’s non-negotiable if I want to be the heir, which I do. I'm happy enough to do it. But Tata has always said I can marry anyone I like, so long as it isn’t a woman.” She wobbled her head a little. “I never bothered looking, though, so I’ll probably have him find me someone once I go back to Tevinter.”

Alistair’s eyes (and Leliana’s now, too) were like dinner plates. “You… really don’t mind if he puts you with someone you’re not in love with?”

“It’s not so unthinkable in Tevinter. The point of marriage for us is to merge two households, create new family connections, make children. Dozens of people are affected by it, so whether two people are romantically tied…” she shrugged. “It’s not so relevant. No strong family is built on throbbing hearts. The one with similar values, who will work with you and not against you, that is the spouse who will bring you through life in one piece.”

He blinked. “I… well, I s’pose it’s good to be with someone like-minded, but forever’s a long time to be stuck with someone you don’t feel anything for.” Alistair shook his head. “It just sounds like Tevinter parents don’t give a damn how you feel, so long as the marriage suits everyone else.”

Rhodri raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say that, did I? Most parents look for someone they know we’ll get along with, and we’re usually listened to if we veto their choice. Some parents choose the most politically advantageous person, certainly, but I think most are very considerate when matchmaking.” She chuckled, “Do Fereldan parents let you marry someone who is patently bad for you and your household, just because you’re in love with them?”

“Well– well it’s their choice, isn’t it?” Alistair blustered. “And what if it turns out they’re wrong, and you’re a perfect match?”

Rhodri shrugged. “What if it turns out your mother and father chose a good partner for you, despite your initial misgivings? No system is perfect, I don’t think. Many Tevinters are in strong but romanceless marriages and pursue affairs to plug the gap. Many Fereldans go to pieces four years into the marriage because the passion has faded and the true incompatibility can no longer be ignored. Which sounds worse to you?”

“Both sound pretty awful to me, to be honest,” Alistair winced a little. “I hope I don’t end up in either one.”

Rhodri gave a good-natured laugh. “Let’s hope you marry someone perfect for you, then. For me, I’ll be extremely pleased if my husband and I are friendly and we raise plenty of happy children together.” She rubbed her hands together and grinned, adding, “Ideally in the not-too-distant future!”

“Maker’s breath…” Alistair shook his head.

She laughed again. “Definitely don’t do it our way, amicus, if that’s how you feel, but most of us are satisfied. Stick with your romance, sic?”

Alistair sighed. “You know what, I think I’d better…”

Zevran couldn’t help but ponder the curious fact that, going by Rhodri's standards, he was a suitable marriage candidate. Her father’s sole criterion was no women, and Zevran was a man– and that seemed unlikely to change. He and Rhodri got along well, the two of them, and there were certainly worse ways to spend life than rearing a cheerful brood of children in good company. After all, life did not begin and end with oneself, and it would be quite the shame not to pass good looks and charm of his level on to the next generation. Who would be able to resist a fat little infant– or a league of them, even, with a winning smile and bright grey eyes? No-one, that’s who.

In all, it was arguable that if Rhodri hadn’t accidentally omitted other requirements issued by herself or her father– no elves, no assassins (even if not actively trying to murder her in particular), no Crows, no people with no notable families… well, it meant they two could– in theory, of course– make a good fist of it together.

And that was really all there was to the thought. There was no need for panic to creep back in and accuse him of feeding some sort of hope that only led to danger for all concerned. His had been a perfectly sensible notion, and really , it was well to have considered it. Indeed, what might have occurred if Rhodri happened upon the idea herself later and brought it up? Had he not mulled it over himself, he would have been caught by surprise, and what then?

No, it was perfectly reasonable. A sensible marriage, unlikely as it was to occur. Were it to happen, though, Zevran would prove himself a capable father, and whatever needs Rhodri might have in the capacity of a spouse would no doubt be easily met. And marriage would bring the benefit of permanently securing a lifetime away from the Crows!

Which she has already guaranteed, without wanting marriage or children from you.

Zevran’s fingertips went cold. Even if that were the case, idly pondering the concept of being legally bound and with offspring wasn’t so dangerous, surely. Not when there wasn’t any emotional attachment required– Rhodri explicitly said there wasn’t. Any fool could see this was purely practical.

But why had he even entertained the thought?

He could have laughed as the answer hit him– he nearly did, in fact. It was so very obvious: why did anyone think of those sorts of things? Sex, of course. Encouraged in marriage, and a necessary step in procreation. A natural, healthy impulse if ever there was one, and after Maker-knew-how-many months without so much as a wet dream, it was no doubt a sign that that part of him was ready to be brought out of dormancy. Emotional attachment indeed! Why would there be any risk of that when Zevran was obviously incapable of it anyway?

He sighed with relief. All that fluster for nothing. This was why it was well not to lose one's head and read too much into flitting fancies, when it all invariably came back to the simple and the obvious.

Zevran smiled to himself and pondered the going rates in Denerim brothels.

There was something terribly, deeply filthy about forests. Perhaps it was the fact that the only thing separating the foot from a layer of dirt going all the way down to the core of the planet was grass. Hair scarcely separated skin from whatever was touching it; why would grass be any better?

The answer, of course, was that it wasn’t any better, and that dirt in all its states– dust, silt, mud– would plague Zevran and his gear for the rest of his days.

And it wasn’t as though Zevran was a snob. No, indeed, he had eked out an existence in some of the most squalid slums imaginable, but he took permanent solace in the fact that once the mould and bodily byproducts and other mysterious filth had been scrubbed away, the walls and floors beneath were perfectly sanitary. And they kept the worst of the elements away. The outdoors didn’t have a leg to stand on in that regard.

“I do not suppose there is any way we could tempt the Dalish to come to us, is there?” he croaked miserably as he took in the endless, uninterrupted stretch of trees ahead. “Surely they would benefit from a brief stay on the outskirts of a town. I am beginning to forget what buildings look like.”

“Zevran,” Rhodri said gently, raising an eyebrow at him, “we passed a hamlet shortly after lunch, and we haven’t gone more than twenty paces from the Imperial Highway– the heavily paved Imperial Highway,” she added with a chuckle, “since leaving Denerim.”

From behind him, Alistair scoffed and Leliana giggled, and Zevran was quite sure he had heard Morrigan and Wynne rolling their eyes. He heaved a sigh and kicked a nearby rock.

“Ah,” Rhodri clucked her tongue sympathetically. “You are not enjoying the fresh air?”

“It smells like fresh dirt,” he sulked. “And my boots, they are dusty."

He glanced up in time to see Rhodri’s expression go suspiciously neutral. Glazed, even. A small vein was rapidly gaining prominence on one side of her head.

“Ah,” she said again after a moment. "The ground is too dry, is it?"

"My boots speak for themselves," he lamented, kicking one shod foot up indicatively as he walked.

"Is Antiva not dusty, Zevran?" Leliana asked through a smile he could hear.

He sighed and turned around, walking backwards as he faced the party. "Not my Antiva City," he returned, permitting tenderness to creep into his voice. After all, there was no shame in loving one's country.

"Perhaps out there in the Drylands there is dust," he waved a hand dismissively in the direction he guessed the Drylands to lie. "And the sun burns hot in Antiva City, to be sure, and everything dries out quickly, but it almost always storms in the afternoon. Big, heavy rains that wash away all the dirt, and so the next day starts fresh." He kissed his fingers. "You could eat your breakfast off the ground, it is so clean."

Amid the doubtful looks from the Fereldans, a nostalgic-sounding sigh issued from Rhodri and, to Zevran’s intense surprise, a hint of a smile flickered over Sten's face as well.

“You paint a very romantic picture, mon râleur, I must say,” Leliana chuckled. “But I do not think all that water would be very welcome to the people who end up flooded with it.”

Zevran beamed. “You flatter me, dear lady. If an Orlesian calls me a complainer, then I must be very good at it.”

“Yes, you are,” Rhodri chimed in cheerfully, and he, Leliana, and Alistair snorted in unison.

“It’s true,” Alistair added, somewhat less blithely than the Warden. “You could complain for Antiva.”

“Oh, now the praise is going to my head,” Zevran cackled. “You’ll find I am nowhere near as talented as my countrymen in that regard, but I am a suitable enough representative in the South. We Northerners complain like we are getting paid to do it!”

“He isn’t joking,” Rhodri said over her shoulder when Alistair raised an eyebrow. “Tevinters, Antivans, and Orlesians are all born whiners. It’s good for the health.”

“Good for the–?”

“Oh, yes,” Leliana linked arms with Alistair and smiled up at him. “If you let your troubles bottle up in you, you’ll fall over dead at some point.”

Alistair’s eyes widened. “Is… is that true? I mean, really true, not some old wives’ tale.”

There was a clamour as the Orlesian, the Antivan, and the Tevinter all made to vigorously impart how many people they had seen or– and the numbers were far higher here– heard of expiring from an acute lack of complaints and the complications thereof.

Leliana declared that she had witnessed a handful of stiff-lipped Orlesian nobles die suddenly and violently as all their complaints consumed them at once, a harsh result from years of playing the Grand Game a little too well. And Zevran, well. How many times had he been given a mark who had made a point of not complaining to anyone, and then, in a moment of urgency, blurted the wrong details to the wrong person? Their deaths, after all, weren’t really caused by Zevran; he was nothing more than the last sentence in the book, when it all boiled down to it. The true result in such deaths always lay a few chapters back.

“In fact,” Rhodri announced after relaying her own anecdotal evidence, “some three years ago, my mother told me that there was research from the University of Orlais, warning of the dangers of not complaining enough!”

“Mmm!” Leliana nodded vehemently. “I think I heard about that from a friend. An especially big problem long-term, is it not?”

Rhodri nodded gravely. “It is. The constant discomfort imbalances the four humours, you see Alistair, and then over time places a great strain on the organs. Then one day,” she snapped her fingers, “something gives out, and that’s the end of you.”

Zevran clenched a hand victoriously. “HA! I knew it!” he cried. “I said it to Taliesen often enough! ‘Mark my words,’ I would say to him, ‘scholars will find it is bad for the humours!’ Too much of the biles. He called me a fool, but who is the fool now, I ask you? Who?”

“Not you!” Rhodri said in a near-shout, grinning at him like the victory had been her own. Leliana and Alistair started to laugh, and everyone else rolled their eyes. Zevran’s chest swelled until it was fit to burst.

He swivelled on his heel to face the front again, his long-forgotten dusty boots all the way down on the ground while his head was up and up and up, past the treetops and clipping through the clouds. His laughter rang like bells and his voice came from his chest, “Not me!”

Oh yes, him. Yes him, coming back to them again and again with his hands out like a dog begging for scraps. It was wrong and he knew it, and there was no escaping knowing it.

Zevran breathed through the stopper in his lungs, forced the air in until there was no chance of them collapsing. His fingertips were tingling.

Ah, but Leliana had asked him a question! Stale by now, but still unanswered. He seized it anyway.

“Ah, and about the flooding, Leliana,” he waved a hand with all the nonchalance he could muster, “we have gutters. Big ones, deep, on the side of the paths and the paths are all angled just a little, so that the rain runs straight into these gutters. You should see how many people fall in those things and break something. Oh!” He chuckled. “Just dreadful.”

The Chantry Sister took in this information with a hum, and made another when Rhodri vouched for a similar system in her own country.

“But where does it go then?” she asked after a moment. “Who gets flooded at the end of all that?”

“Oh, no-one.” Zevran smirked. “All those gutters drain into an enormous reservoir, where we bottle the water up and sell it to the Orlesians.”

Everything seemed to happen at once: Rhodri laughed so fitfully she sank to her knees; Leliana cursed Zevran; Alistair gave a surprised squeak. What the others did was beyond Zevran’s notice or care, not least when several fat, icy drops of rain plummeted into his hair. Through deep, body-wracking guffaws, and as of a few moments later thick sheets of torrential rain, the Warden directed them into the canopy for the fastest camp set-up in existence.

“You really ought to get a move on, you know, Zevran.”

Zevran looked up at Leliana over the potato he was peeling. While everyone else went about setting up camp amid the downpour, they were tasked with making the supper together, and it had to be said: Leliana wasn’t making that much more headway with the carrots she’d been dicing.

He gave her a flourished inclination of the head anyway. “Ah, forgive me! I was overcome by your radiant beauty. Shall I move and sit in the rain so I am not distracted while I work?”

She snorted. “You know perfectly well I’m not talking about potatoes.”

“Oh?” He waggled his brows, already dreading wherever this was headed. “You are being a little ambiguous, my dear. I suppose I will simply have to live my life at twice the speed to ensure you are not disappointed. Will that do?”

“Now, now,” she smirked at him. “No need to be flippant. All I’m saying is Rhodri won’t be on the market for much longer, and once she’s taken, I don’t think she’ll have much time for the affairs she speaks of.”

Zevran allowed himself a single, peevish sigh. “Are you still on about this, woman?”

Leliana chuckled. “And why not, hmm? You’re still her shadow, still blushing up to your ears when she so much as smiles in your direction. And still not saying a word to her about it!”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he diced the potato and tossed it into the water.

“Of course you don’t.” Leliana threw him a shit-eating grin and ate a piece of carrot. “I didn’t see you trip over your feet the other day to get over to Rhodri when she realised you weren’t walking beside her. Not at all.”

Zevran’s stomach threatened to escape via his bellybutton; it took two goes before he had tensed it back into place. “There was a rock in the road.”

“Mm-hmm. And I suppose there was another rock right after that when she said that it didn’t feel right without you walking next to her, no?”

“It is possible, my dear lady, to trip for more than one step,” he said brusquely, and snatched another potato from the bowl.

From his periphery, Leliana rolled her eyes. “I don’t see why you don’t just make a move. Even if she’s not interested, she’ll be flattered, and you can move on.” She winked, “Of course, the best case scenario is much more likely, and then we’ll have one each.”

Zevran raised an eyebrow. “One what?”

“Oh, Zevran,” Leliana lamented. “Keep up, darling. One Warden each! Think of it! We could compare notes, no?” She reached an elbow up and dug it into his ribs with another, much more lascivious wink.

He tsked and gave her a withering look. “Does your gentleman caller know you are encouraging ‘The Assassin’ to seduce the Warden? Amid her grief?”

“Pish tosh,” she waved a hand airily. “Obviously you aren’t about to kill her. If you were, you’d have done it already. And as for the grief, it’s been two months now. Didn’t she go to a brothel last month? Besides, if she doesn’t want to, all she need do is decline. She’d take it as a compliment, even if she weren’t interested.”

“Hah. Well, I’m glad someone is being sensible, at least.”

“Unlike you!” Leliana nudged him again. “Come on, I want to see if it’s true what they say about Grey Wardens’ endurance.”

Zevran raised an eyebrow, privately pondering if said endurance reflected the number of prostitutes Rhodri took into that little room with her. “I am surprised you think it would be prudent to talk of such things given how private our dear Warden is.”

“Hah. I know for a fact that Rhodri and Alistair talk to each other about just about anything going on between their legs.” Leliana smirked as the potato in Zevran’s hands slipped free, and he barely caught it before it landed in the mud. “Interested, are we?”

“My dear woman,” he chuckled weakly, dicing the potato as quickly as he dared, “what on earth were you doing to pick up information like that?”

“Oh, nothing sinister. Just accidental overhearings. Why do you think those two insist on going to chop firewood together, hmm?”

Zevran silently cursed Leliana and the curiosity her remarks were imbuing. “... Ah. Not to exercise brute strength for the good of the party, then.”

“That too, of course! But enough of that,” she waved a hand. “My point is that they confide in each other about these things. I don’t doubt Alistair will confide in her once we get around to that, as well. And what problem is it?”

“No problem,” Zevran shook his head quickly. “It is good to have a third party opinion about these things, I think. I am surprised to see a Fereldan doing it, but well and good.”

Leliana snorted. “And don’t I deserve someone to confide in?”

“Naturally.”

“There, see? And if you hurry up and get to business, she’ll have Alistair, and you’ll have me. Is that not a fair deal?”

“... I am astonished we are discussing this, but yes, I suppose it is.”

She clucked her tongue. “Come on. Surely the Antivan seducer isn’t a prude beneath all that salaciousness.”

He gave a wan smile. “Perhaps you have gone where even I dare not follow.”

“And where is it I’ve gone, hmm?” Leliana arched a brow at him. “Gentle encouragement to flirt with someone who’d suit you well? What a wicked, sinful place that is!”

“Hah. Never mind the other remarks, then?”

The good Sister smiled warmly. “Exactly. We need not talk about anything, if you don’t like, but my original point still stands. She’s fond of you, no? I think perhaps not quite aware how fond she is yet, but with the right kind of suggestion, I think she’ll wake up to herself.”

Leliana winked, apparently blissfully unaware that Zevran’s life essence was haemorrhaging out of him, and added, “Take it from me, though: don’t be subtle about it, otherwise you’ll be in for a long wait– ah, here comes the firewood!”

Beaming now, Leliana rose to her feet and offered all manner of stomach-turning compliments to a sopping-wet Alistair, who grinned and reddened like a sunburnt child as he set his armful of wood on the ground. Rhodri, who was equally drenched (and Zevran was not looking at anything below her neck or even vaguely considering Leliana’s suggestion of what she and Alistair might have been discussing while chopping the firewood), deposited her own load next to his and straightened up. She and Alistair shared a look, the latter suddenly becoming far more nervous than the former.

“Go,” she nudged him. “I’ll handle the firewood. Go on.”

Alistair’s face was purpling, but he took the instruction with a nod. “Right. Erm… Leli, are you free for a moment?”

The man making the request almost jumped as Leliana touched his forearm, and when she had declared that she was and carefully bent his arm so that her hand hung off it, Alistair took his cue and escorted her away. With his back to them, a single rose with signs of thumbing on some of the petals could be seen sticking out of his back pocket, bobbing a little with each step he took.

By the time Zevran had looked away, Rhodri was already industriously wicking the moisture out of each piece of wood, sending small clouds of moisture into the chilly night air. Not of a mind to interrupt her, or that fetching little frown of concentration she was sporting, he picked up another potato and returned to work. It wasn’t as though there was any hurry for him to do this flirtation Leliana spoke of– indeed, it wasn’t even compulsory. No, there was nothing to do for the moment but enjoy the silence and attend to the task at hand, and so he did.

Right up until Leliana’s astonished yowl tore through the camp: “SO YOU’RE THE ONE WHO PICKED MY PROPHETIC ROSE!”

A deeply-absorbed Rhodri didn’t notice the noise, even when Zevran– quite ungracefully– snorted. If Leliana’s proposal today was anything to go by, no doubt he’d have all the dramatic details before the night’s end, whether he wanted to or not.

And what sin was there in being content enough to know? Only fools wished to be unaware of the goings-on around them. Zevran could cope with the accusations of nosy fishwifery that came with being someone who knew things.

He took another potato.

In the heart of the forest, after dinner, Zevran sat by the lake with his poisons belt open and vials ready for re-filling. It was a simple enough task, but a damned fiddly one, and best carried out with close access to fresh water lest an errant drop find its way to him and require immediate washing-off.

From somewhere back and to his left, behind the enormous rock he was leaning against, Rhodri’s voice carried. He glanced over his shoulder, but upon seeing no trace of her, he returned to work.

“We need to leave this until I can get a new staff, Wynne. Our progress is minimal in the current conditions.”

“Hm,” Wynne said. “If you are inclined to use your staves as a bludgeon, Warden Amell, I think it may be well for you to adjust to spellcasting without.”

Rhodri scoffed . “There are few people so single-handedly responsible for the murder of my students and peers as the one I hit, and fewer still who would think it clever to insult my house on top of that.”

Wynne gave an unimpressed-sounding little harrumph. “And what if you don’t find another staff? The Wonders of Thedas had nothing free of lyrium. Will you simply give away the training altogether?”

“You seem not to have noticed, Madam,” she said coldly, “but since leaving the Tower, I have only cast imperfectly during our training sessions. Is it so unthinkable that when you have me vividly picture my slaughtered children while unspent mana burns me from palms to fingertips, that I falter? The pain is excruciating! How much must I be expected to suffer in the name of nominal progress?”

Zevran paused, guts roiling. Evidently, this conversation was not for his ears, but the situation put him in a difficult position. Standing up and announcing his presence now would see him accused of eavesdropping, which he certainly was not doing. He had heard things, to be sure, but keen elven hearing was hardly a moral failing.

And he couldn't gather up all his things and run away, either, not when all of his things were carefully spread out on the ground. It would take longer than a round of Wicked Grace to clear up. Perhaps he could emerge from behind the rock, stab Wynne, and thus end all possibility of the conversation continuing. He would do his utmost to look remorseful if Rhodri scolded him for the act.

Oh, now he was being ridiculous. There was nothing to do but keep an ear out for the end of the conversation while he worked, and that was precisely what Zevran resolved to do.

“How much you should suffer is for you to decide,” Wynne replied. "How keen are you to avoid a recurrence of what happened when we were fighting Uldred? That fireball could have killed someone.”

“A recurrence is highly unlikely.”

“You cannot be sure of that.”

“I can, actually. Uldred and Greagoir are gone, and if I may be a little grim here, they saw to it that I have almost no children or peers left now. Any would-be mass killer will be terribly disappointed in Kinloch Hold’s current offering.”

“Your flippancy does you no credit, Warden. You know that isn't what I mean by a recurrence.”

Rhodri groaned irritably. “What do you mean, then, Wynne? The circumstances are different here. My party consists of proficient adults, and I’m not two weeks away if they need my help.”

“And suppose you were separated from them and they were incapacitated? Some of them killed? What then?” Zevran could practically hear Wynne standing with arms akimbo as she spoke.

Rhodri sighed. “I would give my very best efforts to protect them, as I always do.”

“Well, to be truthful, Warden Amell, I think that as it stands, your best is insufficient, and you owe it to your party members to improve where you may. How you will stop a Blight when you cannot keep your temper enough to safely cast a fireball is beyond me. You cannot even resist the urge to rock and slap your legs like a lunatic, even when it obviously disturbs others. You are far, far too self-indulgent. In fact, if I may be blunt, I find myself wondering what persuaded Irving to apprentice you at all.”

Silence fell. Zevran caught his fists clenching rather than adding the deathroot to vial number five, and relaxed them. And, because he was unable to resist, he threw a quick prayer heavenwards that the lack of noise was due to Rhodri having frozen Wynne to death, only to find his hopes dashed when the latter prompted the former with a 'Hmm?'

“If you consider yourself a better leader, Madam,” Rhodri said stiffly, “you're more than welcome to say it to the rest of the party and take it to a vote. If you're chosen, I will stand down without trouble.”

“I’m not interested in leading,” Wynne replied plainly. “I want you to put this petulance behind you and act like the leader everyone thinks you are. Control your emotions. Cast spells properly. Adapt to your circumstances. Exercise a little discipline once in a while.” The heel of a boot squeaked as it spun on the wet grass. "I think we should train in the mornings as well, ideally starting tomorrow. Good night to you, Warden Amell.”

Only one set of footfalls reached his ears, and they didn’t match Rhodri’s gait. They went around behind him, looping back toward the camp. Zevran glanced behind him and caught sight of Wynne shaking her head as she marched back toward the tents. She reached her own and, as she turned and stepped inside, caught him watching her. Perhaps he had meant her to, perhaps not, but the flash of anger searing his guts upon meeting her eyes had been entirely unplanned. They stayed like that, him staring her down and her watching back haughtily for what felt like hours. When he finally remembered to, Zevran gave her a smile that no amount of self-flagellation could force to touch his eyes. Unease crept into Wynne’s face, and it tasted sweeter than a swig of honey. She disappeared into her tent, and Zevran called it a victory.

From his right, Rhodri heaved a sigh and a thrill surged through his spine and out to his fingertips as her footfalls drew nearer. Zevran looked up as the Warden came into view around the rock and caught him sitting there with his hazardous things spread out in front of him like a Feastday arrangement.

Rhodri stopped dead. Zevran pinned on an ineffectual smile that faltered as soon as he caught the shame creeping into her own face. He rose to his feet, carefully and slowly as he could manage, but she still watched on like he was going to belt her.

Such displays were nothing new to him. There was always the odd mark who cottoned on earlier than expected, watched him for the first time with the appropriate level of fear given the circumstances they’d allowed themselves to be eased into. The difficulty, of course, was that he had always resolved their fear by making it come true– and thus expedited their journey to that next place, where such feelings were either nonexistent or, by that point, unnecessary.

Zevran racked his brains for a solution that didn’t involve murder, only to pause as Rhodri spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“You heard all that,” she rasped.

With a wince he didn’t quite manage to stifle, he nodded once and half-wished he hadn’t as Rhodri hung her head, her eyes fixed on the ground.

What was there to say to that? An apology? A distraction by means of a filthy poem? Offering a helpful, ‘Do try not to be so ashamed of yourself?’ What, for heaven’s sake?

Nothing came to him, and when the silence grew suffocating, Zevran slipped off his gloves and reached a hand out toward her. A friendly pat to the arm, a more than suitable response, and far less intimate than other things he had ice used to put his marks at ease. Rhodri’s eyes went onto the hand as it edged closer, her body tensing, and when he caught her eye and smiled, comprehension of some sort appeared to strike. She almost stumbled over herself to take the proffered hand, her long, warm fingers (and never the thumb) slipping under his and gently guiding his hand toward her.

Zevran’s mouth nearly fell open, heat creeping into his ears as Rhodri bowed her head all the way down to where she held the back of his hand, and kissed it.

“Parce,” she said, and kissed it again. “Parce, non dignus.”

Have mercy, I am unworthy. Zevran knew of the apology from a book he’d stolen years ago, some dramatic stuff and nonsense shipped straight out of Minrathous. The book hadn’t mentioned how to reply, particularly when an apology of any sort was not called for. And certainly, he wasn’t in a fit state to speak or do much of anything beyond trying to keep himself from keeling over.

He would have to say something, though. It didn’t do to just gape and go weak-kneed at a time like this (or at any time, really.) Before he could so much as croak out an ‘ah...’ Rhodri had released his hand and was walking away, pulling the hood of her robe over her head as she went.

The urge to follow was strong. To say something, do something– though what, precisely, Zevran couldn’t imagine. That, and the fact that his feet were rooted to the ground, held him in place, rendering him as utterly useless as ever. He conceded defeat with a sigh and sat back down.

Something would have to change. It didn’t do to have his protector consistently injured and ashamed of herself, especially unnecessarily. Kisses were best given for pleasure, not apology, and Maker knew misery had no place in peak performance.

Perhaps Leliana had a point after all. Flirtation lightened the hearts of all sorts of people, eased their burdens and puffed up their egos a little. And Rhodri was a proud person, there was no doubt about it. Proud like a show horse. The right sort of remark could well lift her spirits like nothing else, restoring that crucial sense of self. Not to mention the ways one could reinflate that pride between the sheets if she accepted! A worthy task, and it was indisputable that Zevran, master seducer and verifiable satisfier of all and sundry, was just the man for that very job. Once a little time had passed and the harshest parts of that distress had eased, the action would really begin.

With a pleased nod to himself, he turned back to vial number five, and to the other fourteen vials awaiting attention.

#Have Warden Will Travel #HWWT #PSA: Complaining is good for your health. Complain today!#Rhodri Amell #You know things are bad when Ninjamance Leliana is telling you to get a move on and put the good word on the Warden

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bryony-rebb · 1 year

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...Snippet Sunday, anyone? (Haha, you can always tell when I’ve run into a wall and start craving validation, because suddenly it’s all snippet posts! and ask memes! and ‘oh won’t you PLEASE be friends with me?‘!) Anyway this is not actually Frozen Teardrop compliant, and I still don’t know enough about FT to be compliant with it even if I wanted to; but I’m peripherally aware Treize has this dead brother, and had the timelines lined up for it I thought this would have been a fun use for him. Like, if you’re going to commit identity fraud.......

===

In AC182, he is still only six. He is father's son: a prince. Milliardo Peacecraft.

He is held by the collar of his coat by a horrible man, an Alliance man, whose enormous hand keeps him pinned in place.

In front of him, stands Treize. Not an adult, but when one is young enough nearly everyone else appears grown up by comparison. And Treize is tall, taller even than the grown woman standing beside him; tall and lean and impeccably polished, clothes perfectly tailored and not a hair out of place. The look in his eyes is perfectly controlled.

In contrast, the woman at his side looks positively deranged.

"Sweet boy," she murmurs, stepping forward and bending down to cup Milliardo's face. Matted tangles of hair swing down with her. He can see the sheen of oil on her skin, smell the unwashed musk whiffing from beneath her clothes with each small movement. "Poor, sweet boy." When she kisses his cheek, her breath is awful. Like a corpse.

And yet it's Treize, whose name he doesn't even know, whose presence commands his attention, whose impression lingers. Looking past the corpse woman, he sees him watching them, his expression measured and unreadable. Sunlight glinting off his hair gives him a copper halo. His eyes are very blue.

"Treize -- a word," says the horrible man who brought him here. That is it: the moment of their introduction.

"Of course, uncle. Shall we go in?"

Milliardo is frog-marched into the house. He squirms rebelliously and receives a violent shake for his troubles. Ahead of him, the odd woman drifts down the hall, ghostlike in her long, filmy nightdress, until she disappears.

Angeline, he later learns. Treize's mother.

Treize leads the rest of them to a comfortable sitting room at the back of the house, where windows overlook a wide lawn running down to a lake choked with cattails. A fire burns in the hearth and the first ice of winter clings to the lake's shore. Treize seats himself on a low sofa, at his ease, one arm draped over the sofa's back, an ankle hooked over his knee.

"Sit," the Alliance man tells Milliardo, like a dog; so Milliardo bares his teeth and snarls like one. The Alliance man gives him a single quick cuff upside the head and bears inexorably down on Milliardo's shoulder until he is kneeling on the floor.

Treize takes this in without comment, then listens to his uncle talk.

Impotent fury keeps sparking behind Milliardo's eyes, distracting him, but he sits up straight and pays attention when Treize, the minute after his uncle finishes speaking, calmly looks him in the eye and tells him, "No."

This is unprecedented.

Milliardo knows himself for a willful boy. He has, in his time, been known to argue back with the adults in his life and put on displays of defiance. But never with such aplomb. Always, with him, it has been a futile effort, doomed to overrule. When Treize says it, as an adult to an adult, there is little doubt but that he will have his way.

Somehow, despite being the child, there is no doubt that Treize is the one with authority here.

"Treize," says the horrible man impatiently, "be reasonable. The boy needs papers. He needs an identity. There is one here waiting for him; no one else outside these walls knows Vingt is dead-"

"Uncle Chilias, I understand your reasoning perfectly. The answer remains unchanged. This boy-" he glances at Milliardo "-will not assume my brother's name."

"Damn it, Treize, how else do you think these things are done? You can’t just conjure up a false identity from the aether and expect it to stand up to scrutiny. God's sake, with that blond hair he even looks the part!"

It's him. They're talking about him.

They're talking about him as if he isn't even here.

They're talking about turning him into someone else.

"You're a colonel in the Alliance army, uncle. I have no doubt you can find another way to get him papers."

"If this is about your mother-"

"It's of no matter what it is 'about,'" Treize smoothly interrupts, waving a hand in casual dismissal. He wields his authority from the sofa as easily as Milliardo's father did from a throne. "Now I'll thank you to stop asking; the boy may stay here as agreed, but that is as far as it goes."

The exchange as good as cements Treize's idol status to the six-year-old boy watching: what he wouldn't give in that moment for Treize's power of command. Then he would tell them.

He is Milliardo Peacecraft of the Cinq Kingdom. He always will be.

They can't change that.

No one can.

#gundam wing #zechs marquise #treize khushrenada #by bryony

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violetsandfluff · 2 years

Note

If you're still taking requests, um I had been thinking of maybe a gay or gender neutral one with Joshua Bassett again. Like a karaoke date night and the guy is having a rough night or suffering from some low self esteem for one reason or another and Josh serenades them with Just The Way You Are by Bruno Mars to cheer them up.

The Way You Are

ohh of course! I’m doing a non-binary reader so it’ll appeal to a broader audience. also, im so sorry it took me so long, aah! 🙈 also, listen to the song here.

TW:angst?

Joshua had barely spent any time with Y/N lately. They knew how busy he was with this or that but the DMs they were getting from random strangers on Instagram didn’t help.

They had never doubted Joshua’s love for them until then, but this was too much not to make them insecure.

He had tried to take them on a “private date” a few days ago, but even that was interrupted by an “urgent and unexpected” phone call.

They had been giving him the cold shoulder ever since and, though it may not have seemed like it, he cared.

So he planned a date with them for a karaoke night.

They were kind of mopey in the car but that was understandable. Joshua knew he’d been kind of sh!tty to them.

Inside, it hurt him to see them so sad. But he had trouble expressing that.

When they were inside, Joshua began giving Y/N tiny kisses all over and they finally began to soften up.

Just as the chemical reaction started to occur, a pretty girl approached the two. “Josh!” she smiled sweetly.

“Savannah!” he tried to be cordial.

“I had no idea you would be here tonight!”

“That’s the point,” he muttered under his breath.

“Anyways, I ran into Nathan and he was saying…”

Joshua, though irritated at being interrupted, turned his body to face her and Y/N felt awful.

They tried to tap him gently on the shoulder, but he just held up one finger in response. That was it for Y/N.

“Joshua,” they said firmly and he turned around.

“I need a minute and so do you. You can go mess with all these other people and see if I care.” A wave of compassion washed over their face, then they continued. “Look, Baby, i think we just need a hot little minute apart. I’m not feeling it right now. And you clearly aren’t either.”

“Y/N, please,” he pleaded. ”I’ll do anything!”

“You’ve already said that.”

Joshua looked so defeated. “I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you,” he tried.

“Tell your exes that.”

“My exes? Baby…”

“Well,” Savannah butted in. “Are you gonna sing for us, Joshua?” she asked in a sickening tone. “I’m sure Y/N would just love for you to sing for them!”

Y/N made a show of rolling their eyes and storming out. Had they stayed, they would have seen the hurt and defeat that riddled Joshua’s face.

Unbeknownst to those inside, Y/N stayed outside the door and listened to Joshua’s voice. He sang a familiar melody, but Y/N couldn’t place where they’d heard it before. They knew that whatever happened between them and Joshua, his voice would still move them to tears.

They were already on the verge of tears and his voice pushed them over the edge. It wasn’t until he sang the hook that they recognized the song.

His beautiful, crooning voice brought hot, fresh tears to their eyes.

“Damn, you’re amazing just. The. Way. You. Are.”

The emphasis he placed ever-so-delicately on the words made them remember the first time they’d met him. The way his voice caught in his throat reminded them of comforting him on so many late nights. The way he buried his face in his hands when he had finished told them how much they really needed him. And he needed them.

He booked it out of the building and they caught him.

“I love you,” they sobbed into his chest.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy, Baby love,” he said, tears moving silently down his perfectly squishable cheeks. ”Honest. I am. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Hug me.”

They found themselves engulfed in Joshua’s embrace and his face buried in their shoulder.

“What else can I do?”

“Nothing,” Y/N choked. “Babe, you’re amazing just the way you are.”

#fanfic #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett #Joshua Bassett fanfic #Joshua Bassett fanfiction #fanfiction #gender neutral reader #just the way you are #bruno mars #karaoke #yellow 💛 heart #flutterfly alley #non-binary reader #Angst #joshua Bassett angst

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mysteriousmoss · 1 year

Text

WOOO THIS IS OUT FINALLY

Anyways this has some OCs mentioned a lot of self doubt, grief and just overall sad boy hours for Mini Tango. WormMan is also here!

Will make a list of all the next Gen crew soon. Some won’t be seen in story for awhile.

Also posting it here under the cut

————

‘10 years, 1 month, 12 days, 15 hours, 24 minutes, 30 seconds. That is how long it’s been since you and the others disappeared leaving us behind.’

A young man is seen standing on a roof in the middle of a snow storm. He is standing there as if the cold doesn’t even bother him.

The sound of a pained laugh rings through the air.

Soon that laugh becomes a sob.

“I,” the sobbing man stutters “I shouldn’t be sobbing. I’ve had 10 years to grieve. But I can’t stop grieving…”

The man looks up towards the sky tears rolling down from his ruby colored eyes.

“Grief doesn’t really leave does it father?” The man goes silent for a moment before he continues. “You know? I should of been more grateful for the time we had although short. Sure I was a child, a clone of you without a care in the world to innocent to know that the damn moon was growing closer.”

The man, no teen, looks down at a piece of paper in his hands.

It’s a photo of a much younger him and his father, the one he was cloned from.

The last photo he has of before the moon crash.

‘Oh how I wish the happy times lasted longer.’

————

“Thought I would find you here.”

The blaze jumps and turns towards where the sound of his older brothers voice is coming from.

The elder walk towards the younger with a soft look.

“You don’t need to hide you know? Everyone is going through the same thing as you, you don’t need to hide.”

The blaze gives his brother a glimpse before looking back out at the city him and those like him live in.

“Lotus is doing her best at finding their codes. Maybe a week or so until he’s found them.”

The ram takes a seat on the bench that he and Silas installed 5 years ago.

Silence fills the area only broken by the sounds of the city nightlife.

“…He would be proud of you. You know that right?”

The blaze jumps abit at the other suddenly talking. He turns towards the ram with a curious look.

“What do you mean N?” He questions doubt evident in his voice while his mind races with thoughts of how he hasn’t made his father proud and how he is a failure.

The teen doesn’t notice his brother get up and walk towards him until he feels arms wrap around him.

“Trust me MT. He’s proud of you. I’m sure of it.”

The blaze feels the tears well up in his eyes once more and the hug tightens around him.

“Let it out. I’ll listen. Just let it all out okay?”

He doesn’t remember what he said but what he does remember is returning his brothers hug and clinging on to him sobbing ten years worth of tears into the shoulder of the one person who’s stayed.

When he stops talking the tears are still flowing from his eyes, but not as bad as when he started to let all that’s on his mind out.

And if anyone walked up to see him passed out and his older brother holding him?

Well they won’t say anything.

—————

Nea walks into the apartment he and Collyn share and places the sleeping blaze onto the couch.

Collyn looks up towards the duo with a raised brow.

The ram motions for the elf to not make a peep as to not wake up the emotionally drained blaze.

They get the message and return to what they were working on.

Nea lets out a small almost quiet sigh and takes a seat on one of the chairs.

‘Lotus hurry up please. I don’t think any of us can live like this much longer.’

#hermitblr #hermitcraft #wormman #mini tango au #Hermitcraft au #Moss’s Fics

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cold-b-writing · 2 years

Text

Thanatophobia: Chapter 9

After the brief introduction, the two adventuring groups made their way back to Loudwater, not entirely sure what to make of each other. Fiona sticking close to Breonna and Vedetta, her state was the most distorted. She was still shivering despite a cloak being wrapped around her, she didn’t say a word since her resurrection.

“So, I assume that you were all here trying to figure out what’s been going on with these lakes…” Ancal started. “Just like us…”

“Well yeah…” Pil nodded his head. “I’m just wondering what got you guys interested in this.” The green dragonborn spent a moment thinking about what he was going to say next and let out a tired sigh.

“There’s been a lot of people that have been disappearing…” the reptile explained. “I’m not sure if you have heard of the bandit clan out there, ‘Bull’s’ something.” Pil nodded his head. “They’re the largest clan out there around here and I’ve heard rumors that they’ve been cooking something big. I just don’t know why it’s been so hard to find them.”

“We have a couple of people who have been to their camp before.” Breonna piped in. “Maybe we can work together in finding these people and bringing them down.”

“It’s huge…” Morqen sighed. “Though they didn’t let me see much of it, the one thing that really stood out about it was the smell.”

“Damn thing is impenetrable…” Vedetta shook her head. “I couldn’t even find a blind spot to sneak in, had to make a deal with them just to get in.”

“What kind of deal?” Breonna turned towards the ranger.

“They wanted me to just hunt for them,” Vedetta shrugged. “I give them most of my game for the week and in return, they turned him over.” She pointed at the rogue.

“That really worked out too, didn’t it?” Pil shook his head.

“Yeah, thank goodness I had your scrawny arse to save me.” The ranger chuckled.

“My scrawny ass is the reason why we’re alive right now, so yeah.” Pil smiled.

“Oh please, you’d have died if I weren’t there with ya.” Vedetta punched him in the arm.

“I believe that you were the reason why we were ever in that situation in the first place.” Morqen grunted.

“And you got yourself in quite the predicament all on your own.” Vedetta chirped. “Mister I steal from all the big bastards around. Bet you had your head up your ass too, thinking you were some kind of hero.”

“Oh well, I could have had no moral code at all.” Morqen. “You know, just stealing the food and money from the homeless in the city or anyone else that was vulnerable. That’s a good way of attracting attention.”

“Well, a fat lotta good that moral code got you.” Vedetta chuckled to herself. “As opposed to the attention you had already been garnering for yourself.”

“You are all just precious.” Ancal couldn’t hide his smile while listening in on the party’s banter. “It’s been so long since we’ve had arguments like that. It brings me back.”

“You’re telling me that the arguments eventually stop?” Aryanna had a hopeful look for a moment right before falling once more as the lizard shook his head.

“No,” Ancal shrugged. “you just find new things to argue about, though they do get varying degrees of serious and not so serious.” Kelrac who was right beside his brother coughed and pointed at the Tiefling. The cleric in response shoved him from behind.

“What’s that about?” Breonna raised an eyebrow.

“She’s a little shit starter.” Kelrac sighed. “But she has also saved our asses on countless occasions, so we tolerate her.”

“Sounds familiar…” Pil muttered to himself. “So, the Roaring Banner.” Pil started as he looked over to Ancal. “That’s quite a mouthful for a group name, what made you guys wanna call yourselves that.”

“There are a few reasons, mostly it has to do with a play on words.” Ancal shrugged. “My brother and I as you can see are Dragonborn. The two of us have our own breath attacks. Sometimes when things get sticky, we do resort to using them. I am told that our attacks are rather strong, even for Dragonborn.”

“Who the Hell quantified that?” Vedetta grimaced, holding a doubtful expression.

“Guess they see a lot of Dragonborn around here.” Ancal shrugged. “Anyway, my brother also happens to get really pissed off, combine that with a short temper, he ends up seeing red a lot when we’re fighting. There’s a lot of screaming, and it doesn’t stop until the whole room is red like his vision.”

Kelrac merely grunted while listening to his brother. He didn’t want to add anything to the conversation, in fact, the moment he did, Ancal paused and shrugged. “Alright, that’s basically why we call ourselves that.” He turned to Breonna and Aryanna. “What do you lot call yourselves?”

“That…is a good question…” Aryanna turned to the fighter. “What should we call ourselves?”

“Oh, we’re on a name basis already?” Breonna smiled. “Well, I don’t think that assholes would go quite as well. Even though that is pretty accurate.”

“No, we should take it seriously.” Aryanna laughed. “Otherwise, we’ll just have to workshop it later when people actually start to get to know us and then by that point, it’ll just be confusing.”

“Well let’s think about what we want to start off with.” Breonna shrugged. “Do we want objects? Animals? Colors?”

“Colors.” Morqen shrugged.

“Animals.” Vedetta smiled.

“Definitely not objects.” Pil shook his head.

“What’s wrong with that?” Ancal raised an eyebrow.

“Well, what would we be?” Pil sighed. “The banner of assholes.”

“You know, it doesn’t have to be banner.” Nayola smiled. “Like, what about swords?”

“None of us even use swords!” Pil pointed at Breonna’s mace. “There are more spell casters than anything.”

“But not all of us use spells.” Morqen shook his head. “Maybe animals are better.”

“Like what?” Vedetta sighed. “Book worms? That’s a great name for any group that frilly boy is in…”

“I like wild dogs.” Pil smiled. “Since you like being such a bitch.” The ranger punched him again in the arm.

“Something respectable please.” Aryanna shook her head. “We just got over this.” She looked around, hoping to find inspiration. Looking up at the sky, she was hoping to see a bird of some kind. Then she lit up with excitement. “Perhaps something a little more…avian…”

“Something mystical maybe…” Breonna smiled. “Like a phoenix, rising from the ashes. I mean, we didn’t die or anything, but maybe when we complete a few jobs, we’ll build a respectable reputation.”

“It’ll be a new dawn for us…” Aryanna smiled. “I got it! Dawn Phoenix!”

“That’s great and all, but that name is already taken…” Pil sighed. “We gotta think of something else, but I think we’re heading in the right direction.”

“Oh shit, really?” Aryanna sighed. “A shame, that would have been a great name…” As she looked up at the sky again, she saw a shadowed figure from above, a rather large hawk soaring by the trees. “Maybe we can go with something to do with hawks.”

“That’s a great idea!” Breonna smiled. “Fierce, independent, predatory!”

“Edgy…” Pil muttered.

“Well, let’s think about how we compare.” Breonna started. “We are not a spectacular group right now. In fact, if I had to describe all of us…it would be…”

“Antagonistic?” Pil piped up.

“Selfish?” Morqen sighed.

“Bunch o’ cunts?” Vedetta shook her head.

“Misfits…” Breonna clarified. “We all stand out in the crowd, for better or for worse. Some of us are here because we were forced to, because we were doing things we shouldn’t. Others are here because we want to do some good. We want to be better.”

“So, what are you getting at?” Pil was lagging behind but picked up his pace to keep up with the group.

“We are a complicated bunch.” Breonna sighed. “We’re not black and white, we’re more like a shade of grey if we had a color.”

“But I wouldn’t compare us to hawks.” Pil sighed. “I mean, they’re fierce like you said. We almost died just fighting a bunch of zombies.”

“That is true.” Breonna sighed.

“And I feel like we all have to take responsibility for what happened there.” Urenakk sighed. “I mean, we should have been more coordinated. I know I just met you all, but we shouldn’t have scattered like that.”

“He’s right.” Ancal sighed. “Sticking together as a group is key. There are very, very few times where splitting the party becomes a good idea.”

“I think we need to go over some strategies and do some training before we head out to our next job.” Aryanna suggested. “We can’t afford to just wing it.”

“And when we do measure out what we can and can’t do, I think we’ll be good.” Breonna smiled. “We’ll be a force to be reckoned with. We’ll earn the right to compare ourselves to hawks.” The fighter smiled. “The Grey Hawks. That’s what we’ll call ourselves.”

“It’ll be a long hard road.” Aryanna sighed. “But when we figure out our strengths, and we use them to the best of our ability, we’ll earn the moniker.”

“Well, here’s a thought.” Ancal interrupted. “Why don’t we help out with that?” All eyes turned to the green dragonborn. “Look, I hate seeing new parties get hurt like that. I mean, we have learned a lot over the years, and I think that when we acquire a lot of knowledge, in regard to adventuring and general knowledge about the world…”

“You share it…” Pil sighed. “Otherwise, it’s just a waste, right?” Ancal nodded.

“Besides,” the dragonborn continued. “We are going to be working together a lot more often from here on. We both want to find out what’s going on with the disappearances around Loudwater. Not only that, but we all have some business with that bandit gang out there, Bull’s crew.”

“We could use the back up.” Nayola smiled. “There’s no way that just the three of us would be able to take that bandit camp down on our own. If it’s anything like a fortress.”

“So how about it?” Ancal smiled. “I’m pretty good with magic myself. Maybe I can show you spell casters a thing or two and you can show me a couple of tricks as well.” Aryanna raised her eyebrow, not quite sure what to make of that but nodded her head. “My brother can maybe help you guys who like it more close and personal.” Kelrac grunted once more, just letting everyone in that he was still listening to the conversation.

“I’m not exactly sneaky myself.” Nayola sighed. “Sorry about that, my lord actually prefers that I fight directly so maybe I can help if Kelrac doesn’t feel like it.”

“It’s fine.” Morqen sighed. “I more or less just read the situation and make decisions from there. I use what tools I have and just get to work. I don’t necessarily need to train beyond the teamwork part. That’s a new one for me…”

“I don’t know what I can learn there.” Vedetta shrugged. “I mean, I just find things and shoot them. There’s not exactly a strategy there. I don’t know what else there is to do.”

“Well maybe, we can help you figure out what would be best to shoot at in the middle of a fight.” Nayola shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll figure out what everyone can learn once we actually start the training.”

“It’ll be a while before we can start training anyway.” Ancal frowned. “For now, let’s just focus on heading back into town.”

As they made their way back into the town, there were people waiting outside. At first the Grey Hawks weren’t sure what to make of them. The bounty seemed like a simple enough job, nothing that would really garner attention. Yet despite that, the people waiting from outside the town gates were looking right in their direction.

“What’s up with that?” Pil elbowed Aryanna, the warlock shrugged in response.

“Honestly, I don’t think anyone other than us are crazy enough to get up for anything at this hour.” She sighed. “Either that or just a bunch of kids that are still partying.”

“Uhm…” Urenakk piped up. “There are some kids there, but they don’t all look like kids.”

“Oh, that might be for us…” Ancal smiled slightly embarrassed. “We have been here for a while and made somewhat of a name for ourselves.”

As the group got closer to the town, they could finally start to hear the commotion that the people were gathering around for.

“Mommy!” a child cried and pointed at the group of adventurers. “Look, it’s them!”

“The Roaring Banner!” an older man started clapping his hands. “They have returned! They have finally returned!” With that, more people from the crowd began to clap just like he did, others began to cheer.

As The Roaring Banner got closer, Ancal started laughing proudly as he raised his arms. Waving at the crowd as they continued to cheer. Nayola was holding Fiona’s hand at this point and both of them got closer to Ancal.

“Look they saved the flower lady!” one person from the crowd cheered.

“Look at Kelrac!” Some people in the crowd measured him from top to bottom, trying to get a guess at his actual size. The larger Dragonborn was quieter and hung around behind the others in his group. In fact, it was as if he was making it a point to ignore the crowd and their antics. He had a convincing poker face to go along with it, he couldn’t look less interested if he wanted to.

“Awe you guys!” Ancal laughed once more and gestured to the Grey Hawks. “Give a round of applause for the Grey Hawks!” The crowd paused for a moment, recognizing that this was the group made of the local troublemakers by the circus and some other criminals.

“They did help us!” Nayola spoke up. “Come on guys! We wouldn’t have done it without them!” Finally, the crowd started to cheer. “Give it up to the Grey Hawks!” Breonna couldn’t help but smile and wave. Urenakk awkwardly waved at the crowd ahead. Pil nudged Aryanna again.

“What do I do now?” Pil muttered. “I kind of don’t do famous ever…”

“Oh, just sit back, you meat head.” Aryanna chuckled to herself. “Just wave and smile, don’t make a big deal out of it, it’s already a little awkward.” The wizard followed her advice and put on a friendly smile, waving to the crowd. Some waved back, most of the crowd simply ignored him. “See?” Aryanna muttered. “Was that so horrible?”

“I mean it wasn’t but…” Pil paused. “They said that they couldn’t have done it without us. But…we almost died…”

“It is strange that they did build us up like that…” the half elf nodded her head. “We weren’t really coordinated. It seemed like they were able to handle the undead just fine.”

“Yeah, I mean, it doesn’t seem like they really needed our help at all.” Pil sighed. “Do we even deserve this?”

“On account that most of us almost died and that some of us did?” Aryanna shrugged. “I’d say we deserve some recognition, but not some kind of mini parade.” The two kept quiet, keeping close and thinking about what lead up to their encounter from the night before.

“I do see what you mean…” Aryanna smiled. “I mean, the timing just seems a little too perfect for us. Just when we were about to go down, they step in and save the day.” The wizard nodded his head in response. “They also acknowledged that bodies have been disappearing all around the town, not just the lake.” The wizard waved to the crowd as some called out to the pair in the back. “And what kinds of footprints did you see when you were looking for the bodies?”

“Reptilian…” Pil muttered.

“But what I don’t get is that they have a cleric with them…” Aryanna muttered. “They’re the only dragonborn that I’ve seen around here, and yet here they are helping us…”

“Do you think that they’re behind all this?” Pil muttered.

“I don’t know for sure yet.” Aryanna sighed. “There’s just not enough things adding up for me to be so sure.”

“So what do you think we should do?” Pil looked in the direction of the two brothers ahead.

“I think we should play it carefully for now.” Aryanna sighed. “For now, I’m just gonna go with my gut and not go too far into the deep end. They are hiding something. Whether they are behind these disappearances or not is up to debate, but there is just something up with them that I cannot shake.”

“They did say they wanted to train us, make us better.” Pil sighed. “Should we take their help? Could that be some kind of trap?”

“No…” the warlock shook her head. “No I don’t think that’s a trap. I don’t think they would do something so reckless as make a group as large as us disappear. People would end up asking even more questions than they already are. I think for now, we humor them. They might have some tricks up their sleeve that we can use for ourselves. And if we really are to assume the worst. They’ll be giving us an idea of what they are capable of. We’ll be able to form plans around what they can and can’t do and work from there. But that is if we really have to work like that against them.”

“Right, we don’t know for sure…” Pil nodded.

“Besides…” Aryanna nudged him. “It’s not everyday that spellcasters offer to show you what they know like that. I would take that opportunity if I were you…”

“I mean you are a spellcaster too…” Pil shrugged. “Would that mean you would be willing to show me what you know...?”

“Perhaps…” Aryanna smiled. “But I would probably need some caffeine inside me first before I’d be able to show you anything…”

“Then why don’t we meet for breakfast and go from there?” Pil smiled. Aryanna nodded in response.

“Forward thinking, I can appreciate that…” the warlock looked blankly out into the village. “But you’ll be paying…”

“Excuse me?” Pil raised an eyebrow. “Since when is that how it works?”

“Since now…” Aryanna cooed. “Consider it a fee for the lesson…”

“Oh, I see how it is…” Pil chuckled and shook his head. “Just here for my money? Huh?”

“Oh please…” Aryanna shook her head. “Pretty boy like you, you have nothing to worry about…”

“But what do you think you would show me?” Pil got more serious. “Would you show me a spell or two? Something that I can copy?”

“I was thinking something along those lines, maybe…” Aryanna nodded her head. “Otherwise, I would just be showing off and we don’t want to damage that precious ego of yours, right?”

Pil scoffed and crossed his arms. “I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly secure…” For now, they just continued to jest at each other while following the rest of the group into town. It seems like The Roaring Banner were making their way towards the inn. The crowd followed from behind, it seems like they were getting ready to celebrate.

All except for one person. Fiona broke free from Nayola and just marched away from the crowd. Despite the chirps, Pil and Aryanna did notice this and paused. She was heading back towards her flower shop. They both looked at each other silently and followed her.

They could catch up with the others later. They already had an idea of how the woman was feeling and figured that she could use some company. The flower shop was not too far from the direction of the crowd. It was easy to find considering that both the warlock and the wizard have been there before.

As they got closer, they could see that the sign around the shop said ‘closed,’ before making their way in, they noticed that the gate was locked. Carefully, Aryanna unlocked it and motioned for Pil to get in ahead of her before quietly shutting it from behind.

As the pair got closer to the door, they looked inside to see Fiona crying to herself while brewing some tea. Aryanna gently knocked on the door. Fiona jumped but trudged her feet across the floor, making her way to the entrance. The door slowly creaked inwards as Fiona pulled on the handle and saw the two spellcasters inside.

Fiona was dead silent but motioned for the pair to head inside. As they did, she gestured towards her kettle. “Would you like some tea?”

The three of them got settled in their chair by a warm fire, each with a small cup in their hand. Fiona gently blew into her cup before taking a miniscule sip. Pil had a mage hand holding his while he got up to grab some sugar. He grabbed a couple of cubes and dropped them into his cup, stirring it in with his free hand and offering some to the others, but both women shook their heads.

“So…” Pil started. “About what happened…”

“My sister is dead…” Fiona shook her head. “She has been dead and just when I thought I had her back, she…whatever that was that looked like her, it drowned me…” The two spellcasters nodded their heads. “And the others are off to celebrate what?”

“I don’t even know…” Aryanna sighed. “I guess a job complete…I mean, that was a Rusalka that was making all of the people disappear by the lake.”

“And where did that Rusalka come from?” Fiona asked. “That had to have come from somewhere? And why my sister?”

“I hate to say this, but she might have been the source…” Aryanna sighed. “More than likely, she died because the water was really cold there. And after she died of shock, she had a lot of unresolved business in her life. Unfortunately, that might take the form of a Rusalka if it’s in water.” Fiona sighed and nodded before taking a much larger sip from her tea.

“So, what you are saying is that, that might have been actually her?”

The warlock shrugged. “Only in some parts. Maybe her personality and her appearance, but beyond that…”

“Well…” Fiona got up and refilled her cup. “I think I might head out later and grab a drink. I know this tea isn’t going to be enough to soothe my nerves today…not by a long shot.”

“All I can say is that we are so sorry…” Pil sighed. “We didn’t…”

“I know…” Fiona interrupted Pil. “Don’t blame yourselves. You did what you came to do and at the very least, you helped my sister get the rest she deserves…but I do know this.” She sat back down in her chair and leaned closer to the pair. “This is nothing to fucking celebrate…” with emphasis, she pointed at the ground beneath her feet.

The pair stayed for a while longer just to keep her company. They knew that the others would still be drinking by the time they would reunite and took their time, giving the woman the company that she needed.

She thanked them and opened the door for them on their way out. “By the way…” Pil paused and turned to the flower lady. “Did the Tiefling say anything to you while you were with her? Just out of curiosity…”

“Nothing out of the ordinary…” Fiona shook her head. “You know, ‘everything is going to be okay,’ that kind of thing.”

“Right, of course…” Pil nodded his head. “Well anyway, I won’t disturb you anymore…”

Fiona smiled and shook her head in response. “Never did…” She slowly shut the door and quietly hummed to herself before putting out the fire.

Pil turned to the warlock. “I mean, she isn’t wrong…” he shrugged. “There really isn’t anything to celebrate…”

The pair started making their way towards the inn. There was more than one, but they figured that the loudest, busiest inn would be where they would find their party.

Aryanna nodded her head. “It’s tasteless…” she sighed. “But whatever, people will find any excuse they can to just go out and drink, and forget everything going on around them…” she promptly pulled out a small cigarette and her long black extension. Her finger started to glow red and finally, a small kindle of flame burned above it which she used to light the end of the cigarette. She chuckled darkly and shook her head. “Like I’m free to judge. Look at me, what kind of ass would just consume shit to feel better, right?”

Pil raised his hands and shrugged. “I mean, I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You don’t need to,” Aryanna smiled and shook her head. “I’ll own my shit. Though if I do start to act like I am better than everyone else, do me a favor and smack me in the back of my head.”

Pil couldn’t help but laugh and he nodded. “You got it…”

“I’ll be sure to smack you if you ever start acting like that.” Aryanna raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I would ever go around thinking I’m better than anyone?” Pil shook his head.

“You’re a man for one.” Aryanna poked him in the chest. “And you’re a wizard, so that almost goes by default since you lot studied your way into magic.”

“Well, I mean, I gotta brag every once in a while.” Pil shook his head again. “Especially if I do something that just amazes everyone! Like a light show or something!” Aryanna elbowed him. “Or what if I fight off someone really tough and I just cast a spell that blows them away. Come on, you gotta cut me some slack when that happens!”

“’When…’” she repeated as she chuckled to herself. “Like I said, you’re a man and a wizard.”

“Okay, well what if I use a spell that you teach me?” Pil shrugged. “Then that starts a whole chain. Like I beat the big asshole with the spell you teach me and after everyone praises me, I just point at you and give you credit.”

“At what point do you ever see this playing out?” Aryanna sighed and shook her head.

“It could happen.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what.” Aryanna nudged him again. “You ever make that moment a reality, then I’ll be the one that buys breakfast, or dinner, or drinks, or whatever the fuck we’re in the mood for at the time.”

“You gonna shake on it?” Pil held out his hand. She smiled and shook it, before pointing at him once again.

“But until then, you’re paying for whatever we want.” She chuckled.

“No, nice try!” Pil shook his head and let go of her hand. Eventually the pair did find their way to the inn that the others were staying and made their way inn. The others were already a few rounds in, but the pair were just getting started.

“And where the fuck have you two been?” Vedetta called from across the room. She was standing on a stool, one foot on the table. The inn keeper looked like he wanted to say something to her but chose not to engage.

“Don’t worry about it!” Pil called back. “Just get me smashed like you.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ smashed just yet, frilly boy.” She stumbled as she stepped down. “I ain’t no fuckin’ lightweight like you.”

“Hey!” Ancal called from nearby. “Their first rounds are on me!” He seemed rather sober all things considered. He had a pile of finished mugs nearby, yet he didn’t seem any worse for the ware than usual. “Why don’t you come sit with us?” the lizard gestured and kicked a chair out from under the table for the wizard to sit in.

Aryanna leaned in closer so that she could whisper in Pil’s ear. “Remember what we discussed earlier…” she started. “Be careful…” she walked over to where the other Grey Hawks were sitting and grabbed a seat for herself.

The wizard sat down in the chair offered to him. Kelrac was standing a few feet away from the table, a large mug in his hand, he was skulking around in the corner while Nayola was leaning over the table. Resting her head on her hands as if she had the worst headache.

Pil was handed a tall mug, the froth still leaking down the side. Pil scooped it up with a finger before taking a sip. “Hmm…it’s rather smokey…” he said before sitting it down on a coaster. “I like it…”

“It is nice, isn’t it?” Ancal smiled as he leaned back in his chair. “But as nice as that is, I think it’s time that you and I start talking business.”

“What does that mean?” Pil raised an eyebrow.

“It means I was serious about what I said earlier.” Ancal shrugged. “Look, I know that your group wasn’t given quite the fair shot in this town so far. Yet, despite getting jumped by all those fuckers by the lake, you held your own for quite a bit despite the circumstances. I know it wasn’t your brightest moment in life, but I do see potential in you, kid.”

“So, what do you suggest?” Pil leaned closer.

“Simple, I show you a thing or two about how I cast spells.” Ancal took another sip from his brew. “I mean, there has to be something that can be helpful there. At the very least, you can learn a spell or two from me. At least depending on your school. What school of focus are you anyway?”

Pil shrugged in response. “I haven’t had the opportunity to choose quite yet. I simply studied enough to cast some spells and moved on. Haven’t made my decision yet.”

The dragonborn smiled as he downed the rest of his mug before setting it down. “Well I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we work that out starting tomorrow? That’s a good start, don’t you think?” Pil nodded before downing the rest of his drink.

“Until then.” Ancal stood up and held out his hand, Pil shook it.

________________________________________________________________

So here it is, we finally meet The Roaring Banner. Get used to them because these guys are here to stay for a while.

#dnd #DnD 5e #dnd oc #dnd fic #goddamnitPil

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hiddenpentacle · 2 years

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Dear Listeners I

Dear Listeners,

Firstly I want to say thank you for listening. Even if only this little bit and you decide it is not for you. I never want to force anyone to hear my thoughts if they do not wish to.

Which reminds me of someone who didn’t wish to. He was actually the last guy I was talking to. Around eight months of talking, three times fucking (one of which… didn’t actually work out because I gave him a blowjob beforehand so that was a little frustrating), once weekly hangouts (and blowjobs) when he wasn’t working, and a snapchat streak that was broken the last week of us talking. That was when I knew honestly. He said it was because his cat was dying and he just wasn’t on social media much. But even in his most exhausted nights the prior seven months and three weeks, he kept our streak. I gave him his space hoping he’d realize that whatever it is I was willing to work on it. But he never wanted to tell me what it was. Instead, he ghosted me for three to four days and then sent me a text in the middle of the night going something like this:

“Hey, I’m sorry for not responding these last few days. I’ve been doing some thinking and we are in two entirely different areas of our lives and we’re not healthy for each other so I’m ending things here. Again, I’m sorry and goodbye.”

I was heartbroken. And still am honestly. He seemed like he was so good and willing to be so good to me. Then he up and left. I realized that our entire communication system was based on my fear of abandonment. “You’re still into me, right?” “You can still see something serious with me, right?” As my mental health got worse, so did some of the manipulative things I would say. Even to the point that I would say that I wasn’t going to off myself because I wanted at least one more real date with him and not just basement hangouts. Which yes, super shitty thing to say. I want to say I would never say that again but my brain is really fighting me lately. And honestly that scares me. But when I said that to him, I really just wanted to go on another date. I wanted to feel wanted. Or to know I was wanted. I have met one person from his life and that was his brother. I only met his brother because he worked with my childhood best friend. So I was not included in his personal life aside from my own bubble of it for eight months.

See there is shit like that that was obvious red flags. Like, who doesn’t introduce someone at least to your own sibling? He said they were fairly close so like invite me over to chill with y’all? Or something. Please.

That right there is me asking for the bare minimum. Even if we weren’t official, he had me believing we would be semi soon.

Semi soon. No definition of that at all, and I was willing to put my life on hold because he was just SO sweet to me… yeah, I think I really am just coming from a place of a lack of self love. Because I honestly don’t know much that was so sweet. If I’m going to be honest even, our sex life was so disappointing from my perspective. He made me orgasm on his own two, maybe three times. I made him orgasm (and damn good ones at that) from head nearly every time he came over, which lessened at the end of the eight months. But let’s say eight months times four weeks, once a week on average. 32 hangouts… 32 ish orgasms I’d given him. That orgasm ratio… I really accepted that oh my lord. “Brother, please never again,” my best friend texted me after I sent her that giving him the benefit of the doubt with 3 orgasms is almost a 3:33, 1:11 ratio. When I told my therapist that, her jaw DROPPED.

Looking back on it, my jaw drops. I actually put up with that? Sure, I love giving head, but I also love orgasms. My thought process was that it takes me some time to come. It was super easy for him, didn’t take long, and was something I enjoyed as well. If he didn’t want to reciprocate, then he didn’t have to. But also I didn’t have to deal with that. I can guarantee that there is someone who meets the same bare minimum who enjoys learning how to make me come, no matter how long it takes to learn.

I still cry over him.

#Dear Listeners #writing #creative writing #emotions #tb #tlb #boys #readme!#21 #internetfriends

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miyagifangkai · 2 years

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Prom

request: Hello! I was wondering if you could do an imagine of reader showing up to the prom after she told everyone she wasn’t going because she heard Hawk’s there alone? Maybe a friends to lovers situation. Please and thank you! ❤️

Tagged: @wishingtobeforeveryoung1994

Word count: 3,414 so uhm.. got carried away with this one lol

Couple: Hawk x F!Reader

Warnings: Lots of fluff is fluff even a warning???, cursing, and uhm..?? I think that’s it!

A/N: thank you for this request! I had a lot of fun writing this! I hope you enjoy! (: ❤️

Ugh, prom. Nothing you loathed more.

Getting dressed up, spending a crazy amount of money on your dress, doing your hair, makeup, and acting like you are just having such a good time when you wish they’d play better music. Oh, and the slow dances? No, thank you! You don’t even wanna go there! Seeing all of the “happy” high school couples trying to grind up on each other trying not to get caught, spoiler alert, they always do. Debating on if you wanna drink the punch because the possibility of it being contaminated with a dangerous amount of liquor is a high possibility. Gosh, how you hated prom.. a total nightmare.

Prom was just a week away and everyone was starting to decorate the gym besides you. You look at the lockers and walls covered in prom posters with the theme being “Great Gatsby” how original..

You walk up to your karate friends, Hawk, Demetri, and Miguel.

“Hey, Y/N! You coming to prom?” Demetri asks and you sigh out of annoyance, “Dude you really think I’m going to prom?”

“Yeah, she has a point. I mean c’mon number one she’s single and number two she hates school functions,” Miguel explains.

“What does her being single have to do with it?” Hawks voice is tinted with anger.

“Why would you wanna go to prom without anyone, man?” Miguel looks at Hawk, “I mean seriously. What’s the point of going if you have no one to slow dance with?”

Demetri lays his hand on Hawks shoulder and says, “Miguel, lay off man”

Miguel shrugs his shoulders and looks at you, “Since my points are invalid,” he gives Hawk the side eye and continues, “What’s your reasoning then?”

“Nah, you’re right. I hate school functions.”

Miguel swings his head towards the boys and smirks, “See? Told you.”

“Whatever man” Hawk shakes his head and walks away from the group.

You watch him walk away knowing that he’s pissed. You could just tell by the way his shoulders were back and his entire body looked tense.

“Hey! You’ve got something on your face there!” Miguel says.

You reach up to feel your face to figure out where that something was, “What? Where?”

Demetri and Miguel look at each other and start laughing as Miguel says, “Oh, it’s just drool.. nothing to worry about!”

“Oh! Ha-ha aren’t you so damn funny” your voice drips with sarcasm.

Even though you can’t deny that Hawk gets a rise out of you. You’ve liked him for a very long time now and you constantly thought about him when you were away from him. He was one of your best friends so you couldn’t ruin that.

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Demetri asks.

“Listen, I don’t like Hawk! Gross. As a friend he’s awesome but nothing more guys.”

They both look at each other with extreme doubtfulness and they both say, “mhmm sure”

The bell rings and you all gotta get to class. You’re walking down the hallway glancing at the classroom windows hopefully to catch a glance of Hawk but to no avail as you reach your science class. The entirety of class you couldn’t help but think about him. Why did he get so mad about what Miguel said? You were sure Hawk was going to prom because all of his friends were and for some odd reason he likes to be involved in things; probably the whole alpha male in him just wanting to control things.

Class ends and you walk out of class only to bump into Hawk.

“Oh shit, Y/N are you okay?”

“Haha yeah! I’m fine,” you squat down to pick up your books as Hawk squats down to get at eye level with you.

“Are you really not going to prom?”

“Nope. I just don’t really see the point, you know? I would rather just be at home,” you sigh.

Hawk gives you a disappointed look, “it sure would be fun if you came though! Hang out with us all night,” he chuckles.

“Oh yeah, watch you guys get wasted on the punch and me be the designated driver,” you and Eli stand up and start walking down the hallway.

“Oh c’mon! Don’t be such a Debbie downer,” he says almost laughing at the expression you give him.

“Why do you want me to go so bad?”

“Because I think it’ll be fun to hang out with all of my friends on prom night.”

You roll your eyes, “Eli, you’re so cheesy!” You reach out and gently slap his shoulder. His eyes widen and you can tell there’s a slight blush from where you touched him but you decided to chalk it up as hormones.

“But no, I don’t think I’m gonna go. I just.. I don’t really feel like it.”

“Okay, dude. But just in case you change your mind I’m spiking the punch with vodka.”

You shake your head and smile, “Alright, mental note made.”

“I’ll see you later, Y/N!” Hawk runs down the hallway to catch up with Demetri for lunch.

Did Hawk just blush at you? No way. He might’ve just been hot or something; well hot is a word for it. You couldn’t help but admire him in a way. He was so courageous and spontaneous. You could never be like that being too afraid of screwing something up. But another weird thing was him begging you to go to prom. Why did he want you to go so badly? That just made absolutely no sense to you. Besides, it’s a week til. Even if you wanted to go there’s no way you could find something perfect in that amount of time. Stupid.

You decide to eat outside today and enjoy the sun. You take a seat at a picnic table as you overhear a group of girls talking about the prom, you roll your eyes and almost put in your earbuds until you hear, “Oh my gosh! You haven’t heard about Hawk?” Your ears perk up.

“He doesn’t have a date to the prom yet!”

“No way! You’re kidding!”

“Apparently, no one has asked him yet—“

“No, no! I heard that he’s turning down anyone that asks him”

“Why?”

“I dunno.. I just heard that from Jen.”

You shake your head at the gossip. There’s no way he’d turn someone down as his prom date, you know him too well, at least you think. But why is he wanting to go alone? Has no one really not even asked him? I mean, even Demetri got a date! Why not Hawk? You frown at the thought of a lonely Hawk at prom.

Fuck. You can’t let him go alone… you’re gonna have to get a dress! But your fashion taste is definitely not up to par with the other girls around here. It’s time to enlist Sam!

You send her a message, “Hey, are you busy tonight?” You put down your phone and continue eating your lunch until you hear a buzz.

“No. Miguel has a ton of homework to do so I’m free. What’s up?”

You can’t believe you’re about to message this to her, but you type it out anyway, “I need you to help me find a dress for prom! But don’t tell anyone I’m coming because it’s gonna be a surprise, okay?” It wasn’t even a minute until Sam messages back, “Yay! Girls trip! We can take my car! Are you gonna surprise your loverboy Hawk?”

You roll your eyes, “Please don’t call him that but yes. See you later.”

You finish your lunch and wait for your last two classes to get over with. Time seemed to never tick away when you were excited for something. But the time finally came along and you walked to Sam’s car as you gave her a hug and hopped into the passenger seat.

“Okay, Y/N! It’s not a dress you need to worry about. You need to get your nails done, makeup done, and hair done. The works!”

You try to stop yourself from sighing but you still managed to get out a slight groan, “Sam, can we just focus on the dress for now?”

“Ugh fine. But you’re at least getting your hair and makeup done, okay?”

“Okay, Sam,” you laugh.

You all pull up to one of the best thrift stores in town and on a mission.

Sam rubs her hands together and gets this very intense look on her face, “Y/N, what’s your favorite color?”

You get nervous about your answer because what if she didn’t approve of your answer? Man, this girl is totally intimidating.

“I honestly don’t really have one. Maybe… purple?”

“Oh my gosh! You’ll look amazing in purple! Plus, it would match Hawks hair,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you causing you to roll your eyes.

You and Sam split up and start searching different racks in the store looking at different dresses and you trying them on.

With each dress Sam seemed to always disapprove of them,

“Too bulky”

“Too bright”

“Too frumpy”

“Really? Lace?”

“Too many ruffles”

It seemed like the search was never gonna end. You had to at least have tried on 20 dresses! You were starting to get overwhelmed and frustrated.

“Sam, we have to eventually pick one!”

“I know we do. We have to find the perfect dress. I mean this could be your night!” She almost starts to wiggle her eyebrows again until you point at her and say, “Please don’t do that face again”

“Oh my…”

“Oh my what?”

Sam pulls a dress off the rack that is the perfect hue of purple that you needed. The dress was long and flowy with a sweetheart neckline and jewels adorned the waistband that tied in the back. The back was a corset fit so it would fit you just right. You went straight and tried it on with the help of Sam lacing you up.

“This dress is—“

“Absolutely beautiful,” you smooth your dress down and smile, “Sam I love it.”

“Hawk is gonna freak!” Sam jumps up and down which causes you to sigh.

You decide to get the dress and set up your appointment to get your hair and makeup done.

You wake up the next Saturday ready to jump in the shower and get to your appointment. You get out, dry off, and put on your button up plaid shirt with some jeans and head out the door. You walk into the salon that’s filled with some of the other high school students waiting to get their hair done as well. You were excited but in a way you felt out of place there. They take you back to get your makeup done first. You tell the makeup artist the color of your dress and the look you’re going for. She chooses to do your makeup with neutral tones because you weren’t sure about purple eyeshadow. You decided to leave your hair in loose curls just an all around natural look.

You get back home and get your dress out nervous about putting it on. You can’t believe you’re gonna surprise Hawk like this. This is completely nerve wracking… What if he ended up with a date to the prom? Or what if he just wants to be friends? You try to stop thinking about the negatives. But you couldn’t help them circling around in your mind. Well, it’s time to put your dress on. You get your mother to help you lace it up and of course she wants to take pictures which you just smile and bear it.

Sam and Miguel show up to your place to pick you up and you quickly run out to get into the car.

“Hey guys!” You say as your dress flows in the slight breeze.

“Wow, Y/N you look amazing!” Sam claps her hands and smiles

“You’re definitely going to shock a few people that’s for sure,” Miguel shrugs his shoulders, “but like in a good way!”

You chuckle, “Thanks. You look beautiful, Sam! And you clean up nice Miguel, look at you,” you place your hands on both of their shoulders.

The rest of the ride there was mostly quiet besides Miguel and Sam making conversation while you started to get into your own head and overthink things.

You all arrived to the prom fashionably late but you didn’t care. You were too nervous and excited to care. You three got out of the car and you face Sam with a look of complete anxiety. She takes your hands in hers and she says, “It’s gonna be okay. He loves you, Y/N”

You look at her confused, “What?”

Miguel looks at Sam with wide eyes and she answers, “Uh.. nothing. Go get him, tiger!” You decided to let that go and get mentally prepared.

You take a deep breath and start to walk in. You find the gym with Miguel and Sam and you three make your entrance. The entrance to the gym was decorated with silver, gold, and black balloons with black and gold streamers. The tables had silver tablecloths laid over them with the punch table having a green tablecloth, “hm.. original”, you thought.

All of your friends greeting you all while simultaneously being surprised you actually came. You greeted them back just to be nice but you were on a mission tonight. You start scanning the gymnasium for Hawk but for some reason you can’t find him.

Miguel lightly hits your arm and you look at him, “He’s right over there. Sitting on the bleachers!”

There he was. All alone. Looking… sad. He looked like he was missing someone. Why was he all alone? Did no one honestly not ask him to the prom?

“Okay guys… here goes.”

“Whoo! Get it, girl! I’m rooting for you!” Demetri lightly shouts at you. You give him a small smile and start walking towards Hawk. You try to fight your way through the crowd and seemingly almost drunk students. Many girls saying, “I love your dress” and many boys giving you looks that you weren’t used to; but you ignored them as you powered through to get to Hawk. He seemed to be daydreaming… in total outer space because he didn’t necessarily notice you at first until you yell, “Hey, purple boy!”

Jumping from you yelling he looks at you and it felt like you two were in a movie; like you were the only ones there. Everything seemed to slow down and you looked into his eyes and his jaw began to drop at the sight of you.

“Y/N! You came!” Hawk stands up and picks you up, embracing you.

“Whoa, whoa, down boy! Watch the dress” you laugh.

“I am so happy you came! This is awesome!”, he beams at you, “you look so fucking beautiful.” Your face grows hot and if the gym wasn’t dim he would’ve seen you glow like a tomato.

“Not so bad yourself, dude.” You elbow his arm softly.

“I can’t believe you came! I mean why?”

“Because I heard a certain someone needed a date,” you smile at him.

He stops in his tracks cold and says, “Wait… because of me?”

“Yeah, it was in the rumor mill that nobody asked you and I just thought it’d be a perfect opportunity—“

“Opportunity for what?”

“For me to officially ask you this,” you grab his hand and squeeze it, “will you go to prom with me, Eli Moskowitz?”

He lets out a nervous laugh, “I mean… yeah of course! As friends, right?” Your world starts crashing down upon you. He still wanted to be friends. He didn’t want anything more and you knew it. You weren’t stupid. You just got so caught up in this fantasy… but you say fuck it! You don’t care. You need to let it out.

“No. I mean maybe something more?” Your palms start to get sweaty and pull away from his hands. He looks off in the distance behind you studying on what the right thing to say would be. He doesn’t know how to reciprocate his feelings towards you. He felt the same but… he always thought you only wanted to be friends and it was hard for him to come clean about wanting to be more this time. He could always be vulnerable with you and trust you but he didn’t know why he couldn’t just tell you that he could be possibly in love with you. You just looked so beautiful tonight. You looked like you had a glowing aura behind you and he couldn’t help but be intimidated by your light. But he takes a deep breath, “I thought you’d never ask.” In a spontaneous gesture he grabs you and kisses you. You automatically kiss him back; you two have wanted this for long and now it is finally happening. You and Hawk have finally grown a pair and got together. The kiss was filled with so much passion and want for each other but you pulled apart when you saw your friends walking up. Before they get to you Hawk quickly asks, “So, does this mean we could be boyfriend and girlfriend now?” And you just nod your head with excitement.

“Yes, of course! You mean so much to me, Eli.” Hawk couldn’t help but kiss you again… Demetri, Miguel, and Sam all walk up to you guys and whistle at you all, “Get a room!” Hawk and you both laugh.

“You know, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea.” You say jokingly and Hawk looks at you with a huge smile, “What has gotten into you, girlfriend?”

“Whoa, we’ve already gotten to the girlfriend stage?” Demetri asks.

“C’mon we’ve been friends for years! I’m sure we know each other well enough by now to be boyfriend and girlfriend.” You both look at each with love in your eyes.

You, Hawk, and your friends enjoy the rest of prom together and decide to drink some spiked punch, dance, and joke around all night. Hell, you even enjoyed the slow dances with your now boyfriend, Hawk. It felt good to have his arms around you and to have him close to you in a non-platonic way. You couldn’t believe he was now yours. Hawk is yours. And you are his. After all of these years of crushing on each other and repressing it, you two are officially together. Hawk and you decide to skip the after party at Stingray’s and go to Hawks place. You told your mom that you were gonna spend the night with Sam.

When you get back to his house you go up to his room and you both sit on his bed and you take a sigh of relief, “holy shit! What a night.”

“Yeah, I know right. I honestly can’t believe you actually like me.”

You lean back on your elbows, “Oh, like you never noticed?”

“I mean I totally noticed the way you would stare at me with sooo much love in your eyes like I was the only man for you,” he starts to crack up.

“Oh, you suck! Hilarious that you call yourself a ‘man’ that’s the real joke here!” You start laughing and Hawk joins in with you.

“Wow, you truly are the worst, aren’t you?” He leans over and pecks you on the cheek.

“C’mon on the cheek?”

“Yep. That’s all you’re getting for tonight. You’ve bruised my ego!” You laugh again and lay all the way down as Hawk joins you and you both take a minute staring at the ceiling just taking in the moment.

Hawk breaks the silence, “hey, uh, I just wanted to thank you for showing up tonight. It really meant a lot.” “Of course! Anything for you… anything for my boyfriend.” You both can’t help but smile at each other.

The rest of the night you guys decide to have a movie night with snacks and endless amounts of popcorn until you both pass out in each other’s arms.

You wake up the next morning and see Hawk still asleep and you stare at him taking in all of his features. You adored him and he adored you. You truly couldn’t believe that he was all yours.

“Like what you see?” Hawk barely opens his eyes to look at you and you kiss him good morning.

You couldn’t believe this was real. You had waited for so long.

Man, what a night. Such a wonderful night.

#cobra kai #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #miguel diaz #eli moskowitz #demetri cobra kai #samantha larusso #hawk x reader #hawk moskowitz

189 notes · View notes

bucksfucks · 3 years

Text

𝙁𝘽𝙍𝙊 ; 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀 [𝟳/𝟭𝟭]

summary┃bucky’s past comes back with a vengeance and you’re determined to get the answers you’ve been searching for.

pairing┃roommate!bucky x f!reader

word count┃2,682 words

warnings┃bucky’s past is revealed, character mentions; [sam wilson, natasha romanoff, tony stark], pet name [kid (platonic), sweets & baby], threats made against bucky + reader, trust-issues, mention of hit-men, brief mention of death, phone sex, praise kink, masturbation, mention of toys, slight angst, soft ending — 18+ ONLY • MINORS DNI

notes┃there is A LOT of plot here but also some filthy goodness and a sprinkle of angst <<3

SERIES MASTERLIST

Ex-wife.

Bucky’s words echoed in your ears as he didn’t dare to look at you.

His ex-wife was threatening you.

And he didn’t think to mention her? Ever?

“Can I please explain?” Bucky croaked finally, voice sounding broken as you shrugged your shoulders — in a state of shock.

That was all he needed before he recounted his previous relationship with the woman who was now sending you threatening emails.

Married young, too young and too fast and it ended up blowing up in their faces.

Well, clearly she hadn’t gotten over it.

“I thought I lost her,” he explains. “I thought that moving halfway across the country would be enough.”

You finally looked up to meet his eyes, glossy, sad and terrified as you sniffled.

“There’s a reason only Tasha calls me James.”

It broke your heart hearing that, the way his head hung low and he nearly winced at the sound of his own goddamn name.

But you didn’t know who to trust anymore.

Bucky always glossed over how he, Sam, and Nat knew each other — telling you that they were old friends that go back.

How far back?

You needed to know, but clearly you weren’t about to get answers from him.

“Buck,” he stopped you, taking a step closer as his eyes begged and pleaded you not to finish your sentence.

“I can’t,” he shook his head, “I need some time.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words that would shatter both of your world’s. But you had no idea what the hell you had gotten yourself into and you needed answers.

And you knew exactly who to go to for them.

“I understand,” Bucky sighed. “I’ll stay at Sam’s for some time, okay?”

You could only nod your head, watching him walk past you and into his door.

Then he shut it, something he never did because his door was always open for you. No matter what you needed and no matter what time of day it was.

It felt...wrong.

But you couldn’t dwell on it, grabbing your keys, phone, and whatever other important things you could think of being you nearly bolted out of the front door.

You plugged your headphones into your phone, hitting shuffle and descending down into the subway.

The entire ride made you anxious, slowly approaching your stop and you were way out of place in this crowd.

People rushed by you in expensive suits and what you could only guess were the infamous red-soled shoes that were worth close to your monthly rent, if not more.

You cringed, thinking of the man you were about to see in his stupidly tall office building that you had to crane your neck at an uncomfortable angle just to get a look at.

The elevator could not have taken longer, tapping your foot impatiently as you rode up to what felt like the heavens before the doors opened to revel smooth wooden doors that reach from the ceiling to the floor.

You were so close, before you were stopped.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, you can’t be here right now.” A man’s voice stopped you, dressed in a security guard uniform and oh, this was so him.

“I know him,” you said, intent on seeing the man probably sitting behind those large doors.

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you do th—”

“It’s okay, Marv. I know her,” his voice came not from behind the doors, but from the long hallway to your left.

The security guard, Marv, nodded his head as he looked at you once more before retreating back to where he was leaning against one of the walls.

“This is a surprise,” you rolled your eyes, “Tony, please. I don’t wanna hear it.”

He walked over to you, embracing you in a hug, “oh c’mon, I’ve missed you, Kid.”

You shook your head, “I haven’t been a kid in years,” you tried to remind him, but it was Tony, he wasn’t going to listen as he just laughed it off and welcomed you into his office.

It was much different from last time, all new furniture and appliances, but nothing lasted more than a year with Tony.

Tony was an old friend, sort of.

He was an old friend of your father’s, something like an uncle, but also like your older brother.

So just one giant pain in your ass.

“So,” Tony sighed. “What trouble did you get into this time, Kid?”

You told Tony everything.

From being roommates with Bucky to the way he asked you to be his fake girlfriend to Sam’s wedding and all the way to the situation you were in now. Confronted by his ex-wife without any idea of what she was going to do.

Tony had that look on his face. The one where he was going to tell you that you were crazy.

“I don’t know how you manage to get yourself into these situations,” he chuckled, hand clamping over your shoulder as he walked around his desk and typed something into his computer.

“Last name is,” he looked at you. “Barnes.”

He nodded his head, typing away at his computer again before he stopped.

There was a brief moment of silence, Tony hiding behind the computer screen before he stood up and walked back around the desk, “I’m gonna need some time.”

You understood, shaking your head. You were asking Tony to hack into any known database and collect as much data on Bucky as you could. It was wrong, but you just needed to know who you were dealing with.

“Thank you, Tony. I-I really appreciate it.” You weren’t good when it came to...well, the heartfelt side of things but luckily neither was Tony.

“Don’t get sappy on me now, Kid. You know it makes me sick,” he joked playfully, smile on his lips as you stood up to give him a half hug.

“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” He promised before you walked out of the too-tall building with far more questions than you came with.

It was a waiting game that you didn’t want to play, but you didn’t have a choice.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It seemed like your relationship with Bucky was doomed from the start.

Friends to lovers rarely, if ever, works out in anyone’s favour.

The fake dating trope you could handle, pushing your feelings aside to help Bucky win a bet didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. You had a great time, great fucking sex, and a trip out of it.

Then Steve wouldn’t leave the picture. Going as far as coming to the wedding as Natasha’s boyfriend to spite you not realizing that you and Bucky had gotten married.

Married.

You and Bucky were married. Bonded in a whole other way and now, his ex-wife was out for you and him.

Maybe this was a sign from the universe, a big red fucking flag telling you that it wasn’t worth it and yet...you couldn’t let go.

The apartment felt empty without Bucky, his bedroom left the way it was in the morning with your favourite sweater of his laid out on the covers and a little post-it note on top of it.

You never could really decipher Bucky’s handwriting. It was absolute chicken scratch as you picked it up and managed to make out in case you get cold scribbled onto it.

It was an easy decision to pull it over your head and drown yourself in the scent of Bucky’s cologne as you fiddled with the small gold band you now wore around your neck as a necklace.

You didn’t want anyone other than Bucky. There was no in the world who understood you better. Who knew how to make you laugh when you were having a bad day.

Everything led you right back to Bucky.

So when your phone rang from the other side of the couch, you were secretly hoping it was Bucky.

Instead, Tony’s name flashed and your heart sank into your stomach as you quickly hit answer and held the phone up to your ear.

“You’re not gonna like this, Kid.” Tony’s voice flowed through the speakers as you took a shaky breath in and braced yourself for what Tony was about to tell you.

“He did a damn good job at erasing his history, but you can’t erase all of it,” Tony chuckled as you rolled your eyes, “quit stalling.”

He sighed, “the Howling Commandos was an organization tasked with,” he paused, “tasked with collecting intel and making sure that information never got released to the public.”

This time, it was your turn to fall silent.

“Like, spies?” You asked and Tony hummed, “sort of.”

“They had spies, agents, hit-men.”

No. You shook your head, no.

“James Buchanan Barnes was their highest ranking hit-man. Him, along with Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanova worked as a team. A spy, agent, hit-man trio.”

You had to shake yourself out of spiralling, what you needed was everything Tony could possible tell you.

“Anything on his ex-wife?” You then asked and heard shuffling on the other line, “not much. Mary Barnes, but I doubt that’s her real name, was part of a training initiative the Howling Commandos were testing.”

You bit your lip, at least you had a name, even if it wasn’t her real name.

“By that point it looks like James—”

“Bucky. His name is Bucky.”

Tony cleared his throat after a moment’s silence, “Bucky looks like he had disappeared. Blipped off of the face of the Earth. There’s nothing in his file after 2014.”

That makes sense. Bucky was perhaps the most old-fashioned man you knew, only upgrading from his flip-phone just a few years ago. He barely knew how to unlock it, though.

“Sam and Natasha went on to live normal lives, Kid. I’m sure that’s all Bucky wants.” Tony tries to assure you and you laugh, “you sound like my dad.”

He laughed on the other line, “oh gross.”

“Thanks for everything, Tony.” You said, “you know what number to call in case you’re in trouble.”

With that, you both hung up, tossing your phone away from you to digest everything you’d just been told. You knew you had to talk to Bucky, but you didn’t know when.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“So you’re tellin’ me,” Sam was confused. “That this is the same Mary that tried to get you killed?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, taking another swing of his beer as he rounded Sam’s kitchen island.

“That’s the one, you know, the undercover agent working for Strucker.” Bucky scowled at the name.

He was angry, beyond angry at the fact that his past was creeping up on him despite how far he had gone to erase it.

“But why now? Why come after you now?” Sam poses the question that even Bucky doesn’t have an answer to. So he just shrugs his shoulders and finishes off his beer.

“Unfinished business.”

They stand in silence for a little while longer, listening to the old ticking clock hanging on the wall before Sam takes a step towards Bucky.

“Whatever you need, you know that Tasha and I are here for you, right?” He whispers and Bucky feels the warmth blooming in his chest as he gives him a half-smile.

“Yeah,” he nods his head, “thanks, man.”

Sam knows that Bucky was never really good at the sappy shit, so he doesn’t force it. Instead, he offers him another beer, bottle necks clinking as Bucky’s thoughts race.

He was worried.

Not about himself, but about you.

And you were worried about Bucky, curling up in his bed as you sighed and tossed and turned. There was no way you’d be able to fall asleep alone tonight. And hugging his pillow just wasn’t enough.

So you grabbed your phone, hitting his name and waiting for the ringing to sound before he picked up — tired and groggy.

“We need to talk.” You didn’t give him a chance to greet you. He sighed on the other line, but hummed in agreement, “tomorrow?”

You hummed in response to his question, the sound of his voice soothing as you played with the sheets of his bed.

“I miss you, Sweets.” Bucky whispered, your breathing hitching at how low and raspy his voice really was.

“I miss you too, Bucky.” You admitted, shifting as you got comfortable on the pile of pillows against your head.

There was a moment of silence before Bucky spoke again.

“You know what ‘m really missin’ right now?” His words sent a shiver down your spine as you shakily inhaled, “what?”

Bucky sighed, reminiscent of how he sighs when he runs his hands all over your body.

“I miss that sweet cunt of yours.” Bucky purrs, you know he’s smirking, possibly even dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as he closes his eyes to imagine you under him.

You’re at a loss for words, feeling your panties grow damp, core aching and you’re going to have to touch yourself soon. But that’s all part of Bucky’s plan, you think.

“Here I am, all alone, with my hand wrapped ‘round my cock,” he whispers, but you can hear him stroking himself.

“And all I can think ‘bout is that way your tight little pussy grips me and milks my fuckin’ dick, baby.” Bucky was always so good with his words, knowing exactly what to say to make you melt.

And it was working, because you were a squirming mess in his bed.

“Well,” you could tell he was smirking by his tone, “what’re ya waitin’ for, Sweets. Go on, touch yourself. I wanna hear you work your clit.”

Your hand flew under your panties, being given the permission only made it sweeter as your fingers came in contact with your soaking folds. The sensitive bundle of nerves needed desperate attention as you slowly circled it.

“Good girl, that’s my girl.” Bucky praised, continuing to work himself.

“God,” he hissed, “can’t wait to have you all to myself again. Bury myself deep, maybe even have you sit on my cock as you beg me to do somethin’.”

You worked yourself a little faster, applying some more pressure as you let out a whine at his words.

“Add two fingers, Sweets. I know how much you love bein’ stretched,” Bucky chuckled deeply, “been thinkin’ of gettin’ you a mould of my fuckin’ dick for when ‘m not home.”

Oh my God. Oh my God that shouldn’t be so fucking hot so why does it make your walls flutter and breathing uneven as you have to stop yourself from actually fucking cumming.

He chuckles again, “yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You can’t verbally respond, too focused on the tight coil in your abdomen that’s ready to snap.

“I know you’re close, can hear it in how fuckin’ desperate you sound,” he pants, “so why don’t you make a mess all over my clean sheets.”

You gasp, how did he know, but you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer than a moment because your orgasm rips through you and leaves you panting Bucky’s name.

Both of your breaths are uneven and ragged through the phone’s speakers, bed springs creaking on Bucky’s side as he hums.

“If only you could see the miss I made for you, Sweets,” you shuddered at his words, closing your eyes to relish in the moment.

“Now get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” His tone has changed, entirely sweet and caring as you grab the phone to bring him closer to you.

“Okay,” you reply, another lick of silence before you hear Bucky going to end the call but you stop him.

“I love you, Bucky.” You quickly blubber out and it feels good to finally say those words because there’s no more denying how you really feel about him.

“I love you too, Sweets.”

It’s a bittersweet ending to the phone call, thoughts and emotions running wild as you’re forced to remind yourself that Bucky has a lot of explaining to do.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes oneshots #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #roommate!bucky #bucky barnes series

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tendouluvr · 3 years

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aizawa calling you clingy - gn reader

- [attempt at] angst to fluff

- warnings: being called clingy, aizawa gets annoyed with reader and berates them, one use of the word ‘shit’

- wc: 1.9k

a/n: this wasnt......as sad as i wanted... i cant tell if im just not so good at writing angst or immune to it T_T

once again, not edited!

#! aizawa!!!! eee

#! hes a levelheaded man so arguments are rare

#! u both trust one another so theres no reason to have doubts in ur relationship

#! being his s/o, he tells u things thats not so easy to tell others over time, and you’re patient enough to let him take however much time he needs to let u in

#! however, years of keeping to himself most of the time doesnt just disappear even if you’re his s/o

#! so aizawa does have this tendency to close off and distance himself from u bc of his stress and insecurities

walking through the spacious halls of ua, you were headed towards your lovely boyfriend. aizawas been pretty busy lately with teaching his class, making sure no one is being left behind progress wise, doing his job as a pro-hero, and then spending his free time training with shinsou.

you knew showing up at school unexpectedly was something aizawa found irky, that’s why you made sure to tell him the night before that you would be coming during lunch time to bring him some yummy homemade food.

humming softly to yourself, you finally reached the door opening to class 1-A and walked in. the classroom was empty, but there at the front was no one other than mr. aizawa shouta. you quickly greeted him with a smile and he turned to look at you.

“what are you doing here?” he slowly asked with a look of confusion.

“i brought you some food! did you eat yet? i hope not, i made-,” you quickly stopped talking once you noticed the look he was giving you.

“why are you here? i already told you, you shouldnt be showing up without letting me know first. our relationship is quiet, if the students see they’ll get noisy and ask questions, i’ll get bombarded by my colleagues, and it’ll put you in danger if words get out. did anyone see you coming here? can you listen to me for once instead of continuing to always be near me? you’re so damn clingy and need to start thinking about the consequences your action will bring. i already ate, just go home before anything happens.”

your jaw dropped a little after hearing what he just said to you. did he not remember what you told him last night?

worst of all, you couldnt believe he just called you clingy. you just wanted to do something nice for him by making his favorite food hoping that it’ll relieve some of the stress thats been building up, but he just thought of you as clingy.

fine, if clingy is what you are then you’ll stop bothering him. you quickly whispered an apology, not sure if he could hear or not, and began making your way back home as fast as possible. the food you made for him was still tightly grasped in your hand.

due to the new dormitories, aizawa stays at ua majority of the time. he comes home to your shared apartment whenever he can to spend time with you. unfortunately, those time aren’t usually much because as soon as he’s free, he’s quick to do something else.

once you’ve made it home, you packed the food away and put it in the fridge. you felt your phone buzzing repeatedly, already guessing who it could possibly be, you took it out to see it was your boyfriend.

shou <3: im sorry

shou <3: honey, im so sorry. pls text me back when u can

shou <3: i know what i said hurted u, but i promise u i dont mean it. pls just call me or text me so we can talk about this

shou <3: i have to go back now. but i love u. so much.

staring at your screen, you contemplated texting him back.

letting out a sigh, you decided not to.

putting your phone to the side, you walked to the bedroom and changed out of your clothes into the comfy pjs you were wearing right before you left.

seeing that there was nothing for you to do other than wallow in your insecurities and let out a few tears, you got into bed and made yourself comfortable for an afternoon nap.

aizawa on the other hand was at school and distracted. his own words kept replaying over and over in his head and all he wants to do is smack himself a few times (after comforting u ofc).

his students could tell he was in a badder mood than usual so they collectively agreed to not worsen it (one particular student does not care. can u guess?). aizawa just wanted the day to pass so he can apologize to you directly and make it up with some cuddling.

despite being distracted with planning his apology and thinking about you, he was still teaching as he should and constantly telling his students to be quiet because he’s intimidating like that.

a few hours passed, the students are back in their dorms and some of the teachers are still in school finishing up some work. the hallways were empty and silent, and the weather outside was nice and calm - not too sunny with just the right amount of wind.

however, if you were to peek your head inside of class 1-A at the moment, the environment is an exact 180. aizawa is quickly trying to grade the remaining stack of papers he has on his desk so he can leave as soon as he can. there’s papers everywhere, he’s not so sure where the answer key went off to but to hell with the answer key. he just needs to go home.

his hair is messily tied up and his lips have probably been gnawed off by now. as soon as school ended, he got out his phone to see if you replied and sadly you didn’t. he doesn’t blame you though, considering all of the shit he said to you earlier.

finally writing down the fat score in red pen onto the final paper, he gathers everything and put to the side of his desk and packed up his stuff. his stuff being his yellow sleeping bag and that’s it.

he went to his room first to clean himself up a bit, and then grabbed a taxi to go to your shared apartment. arriving at the front door, he takes out his copy of the key and entered.

first thing he noticed while entering and taking off his shoes was that the apartment was dark and quiet. he made his way to the kitchen first and turned on its lights to check the fridge. in the fridge laid the food you made for him earlier today. he took it out to start heating it up in the microwave then he walks away from the food and to your bedroom.

quietly opening the door, he poked his head in to see you laying on your side with your back facing the door. he assumed you were asleep and gently closed the door to not wake you up. he made his way over to the bed and sat on the edge of it.

you, feeling the bed dip, slowly opened your eyes to be greeted with the sight of your boyfriend gingerly brushing his fingertips across your cheekbones. he notices that you’re awake and looks up to meet your eyes.

making eye contact with him, you quietly grunted and brought the blanket up to cover your face while turning your entire body to the other side to ignore him. aizawa sighed and brought his hand down to rest on your waist as he begins talking.

“yn... i know you’re.. mad at me for the things i said to you earlier, but i’m truly sorry. i know saying i didn’t mean it isn’t good enough for you to forgive me, but i want you to know i’m really really sorry. i’ve been so busy for the past few days, my head is all over the place, seeing you at school just got me overthinking and worried that i ended up saying things about you that’s not true at all. i love you so much, hun. you’re the best thing to happen to me. you don’t have to forgive me now, i understand if you want some space.”

it was silent for some time after he finished his apology. the echoing silence was slowly making aizawa worried that you’ll leave him, but he won’t tell you that. thinking that you wanted space, he lifted his shaky hand off of your waist and moved to get off of the bed when you suddenly grabbed onto his hand to keep him there.

“i...i told you the day before that i was going to be visiting you during lunch time. did you not remember? or even hear me tell you?”

aizawa situated himself back down onto the bed before replying. “if i’m being honest, i don’t really remember much of that day at all. my brain was occupied with work and rest, so i was practically drained by the end of the night. i’m sorry i took it out on you, it’s my fault for overworking when i know you’ve been trying to help.”

letting out a soft sigh, you turned your body back towards him. still holding onto his hand, you carefully slotted your fingers in between his and pulled him down to lay with you. he immediately found comfort in this and placed his head into your neck. you could feel his facial hair against your skin making you let out a quiet giggle.

“i love you. i know you have a habit to overwork since that’s all you did before we dated, but please shou, take care of yourself. im not talking physically, cuz you’re already so damn fine, but mentally. i hate seeing you bury yourself in work and training that it even makes me tired just watching you.”

he grumbled something against your neck - his usual reaction to you complimenting him - and held onto you tighter while putting light kisses on your collarbone.

“i know. i will. please bear with me, i know i’m a pain but i’ll always try to be my best for you. i’m never letting you go, love you too much for that.”

“hmm? who said i’m going? you’re stuck with me forever just so you know,” you laughed and patted his head before rising from the bed.

“i heard you heating up the food earlier. get up and come eat,” you tugged aizawa to get him off the bed.

he grumbled once again because he was being forced to leave the warm comfort of your shared bed, but followed you out anyway holding onto your hand.

“wait. you heard me entering? so you were pretending to sleep when i got here?! not funny, babe. not funny. -also don’t take sleep for granted. i did and look where that got me. stop laughing!”

bonus:

it was the next day and aizawa just finished passing out the grades he rushed grading yesterday. even though it was rushed, he was confident that there wasn’t any mistakes-

“aizawa sensei, you marked this question wrong when it’s right. this one too. and this other one on the last page. are you trying to fail me?!” denki dramatically wailed as he showed aizawa his papers.

guess he did make mistakes after all.

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