#i might just might ask her if i could take her shift per chance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justabigassnerd · 2 months

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Hidden Talent

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,615

Warnings - little pinch of angst, mostly fluff, an unpopular trope I guess, don't like it don't read it

Summary - after some convincing, you finally take part in karaoke night and surprise the Daggers and your dad

A/N - I guess I should apologise for disappearing again... I'm so sorry I've been picking up a lot more shifts recently at work so I'm in a permanent state of exhaustion right now and I'm trying to get myself writing for y'all it's just a fight right now. I know this trope isn't popular but like... it was a request so just scroll if you don't like it and yes I chucked Taylor Swift in there because I was listening to her music while writing so yeah. anyway I won't ramble anymore, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!

Karaoke night at the Hard Deck had very quickly become popular among the Daggers when Penny implemented it every Saturday night. It usually consisted of the Daggers singing various songs off-key while a few drinks in. It was great entertainment for you, watching the people your dad worked with to be up on their feet singing the likes of Celine Dion and various attempts to sing the whole of Bohemian Rhapsody.

Each of the Daggers had invited you to get involved on multiple occasions but you always turned them down, saying you got stage fright and that seemed to get them to back off enough although they did reconvene together and whisper about how uncharacteristic it was for you, the daughter of Pete Mitchell to experience anything like stage fright.

One night, you were hanging out at the Hard Deck with the Daggers and watching Jake sing what he has dubbed as one of his favourite country songs, but you weren’t too sure how serious he was about it since he claimed almost every country song as his favourite. As Jake sang, beer bottle in one hand, microphone in the other, Bradley sidled up alongside you in front of the bar where Penny had just handed you a soda and spoke up.

“You going to sing anything?” He asks, keeping his tone as casual as possible.

“Not a chance.” You reply with a slight laugh tagged onto the end as you glance up at Bradley. You knew if you went up there and sang you might get made fun of. You were sure you could sing, after all you had made the school choir but that didn’t stop you from being terrified that the Daggers would tease you and then somehow word would spread to your dad, and you’d become a disappointment in his eyes.

“Come on. Just one song? Please?” Bradley pleads, making you roll your eyes with a light scoff. Since your dad and Bradley had made up, Bradley had no issues stepping in as an annoying yet loveable big brother to you.

“Bradley… have I ever said yes?” You question, raising an eyebrow as Bradley falls silent for a moment before speaking up.

“Just this once and then I’ll never ask you to do it again. Promise.” Bradley insists, nudging you lightly with his elbow, chuckling when you squirm at the tickling sensation that came with the friendly nudge.

“I’ll do it if you and the Daggers promise not to make fun of me or tell dad.” You say after a brief moment of consideration and when at first you saw Bradley light up at you saying you’d do it and then when he heard the rest of your sentence his expression shifted.

“You’d think we’d make fun of you?” Bradley asks softly, eyes regarding you gently as you begin to feel guilty for your words at the crushed look on Bradley’s face.

“Well… you guys always tease each other when you sing so I just assumed you’d act the same towards me. I don’t mind the teasing I’m just nervous enough at the thought of singing in front of you guys that any teasing might just- I don’t know.” You try explaining, not really knowing how to say what you want to say without sounding rude. You never minded a bit of fun with the Daggers, you were able to keep up with their usual banter with ease but there was something so terrifying about singing in front of them. You had grown more passionate about singing the more you did it at school and you weren’t ready for everyone around you to make fun of your interests and passions.

“y/n/n, I promise we will not make fun of you. We can go and speak to them now to get all of them to promise.” Bradley offers, making you nod with the slightest of smiles on your face as you follow Bradley from the bar to where the Daggers had congregated.

“Hey, y/n! Is everything, okay?” Reuben asks as you approach, all of the Daggers noticing how you stuck to Bradley’s side.

“Is something wrong?” Bob asks worriedly, eyes flicking between you, Bradley, and the other Daggers to try and figure out what was wrong.

“Do you want to tell them of should I?” Bradley asks quietly, glancing down at you softly.

“I’ll tell them.” You say, taking a small step forward and addressing the group who give you their undivided attention.

“Bradley has coerced me into singing a song tonight. But I will only do it on two conditions. One, you don’t make fun of me if I sound awful or anything. Two, no one tells dad about it. I’m not ready to potentially embarrass or disappoint him.” You say clearly, the way you command the group eerily reminding them all of Maverick and how he could control the group much easier than any other superior officer. After you finish speaking, the Daggers all exchange looks once more before softening.

“I promise we will not make fun of you, kid.” Jake says sincerely, as the rest of the Daggers agree and give you their own promises to not make fun of you or tell your dad. They were all a bit confused as to why you were so shy about your dad knowing about you taking part in karaoke night but since you didn’t want him to know, they promised they wouldn’t tell him. With their promise secured, you cross to Penny and tell her what song you want to play, and Penny is quick to find you a karaoke version before letting you take the stage.

As the opening bars of Fearless play, you divert your attention away from where the Daggers are sitting and instead focus your attention on the furthest wall to keep yourself distracted as you begin to sing.

When you started to sing, the Daggers exchanged looks of shock and awe. They had no clue what to expect when you took to the stage, but you had taken control of the stage and sung your heart out.

Unbeknownst to you and the Daggers, Maverick had entered the Hard Deck, ready to pick you up but instead of finding you talking and laughing with the Daggers, he saw you up on the small karaoke stage singing. You seemed so happy and confident as you sang, and Maverick couldn’t help but feel his heart surge with pride at the sight. He had no idea you could sing so well. You had never sung in front of Maverick before, not even in the car or singing around the house.

“Hey Pete.” Penny’s soft voice shakes Maverick from his stupor, and he turns to face her as you sing in the background.

“Did you know y/n could sing like that?” Maverick says, awe written across his face as he speaks, making Penny softly laugh at the expression.

“No, I didn’t. And neither did the Daggers by the looks of things. She’s never taken part until today.” Penny says, nodding her head in the direction of where Maverick’s squadron was sat, all of them looking just as shocked as Maverick was, and constantly turning to whisper to each other about your performance.

When you finished the song, the Daggers were quick to cheer and the second you stepped off the small stage Mickey and Javy grabbed you into a hug.

“That was amazing y/n/n!” Natasha says excitedly, pulling you into a hug the moment Mickey and Javy released you from their hug. You couldn’t help but laugh at how everyone was scrabbling to give you a hug or congratulate you. When the group finally dispersed, you came face to face with your dad and you stiffened slightly, worried about what was to come.

“Hi, dad.” You say nervously, trying to anticipate his next words.

“Hi y/n. I didn’t know you could sing like that.” Maverick says, a smile soon breaking out on his face which makes you relax and smile in return.

“That was amazing! I’ve got one talented kid.” Maverick continues, pulling you into his arms gently, holding you close as you wrap your arms around him with a grin.

“Thank you, dad.” You say softly, squeezing him a little tighter as you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head before pulling away.

“I hope we’ll get to hear more of your singing from now on. You can’t keep a talent like that hidden away now.” Maverick says, unable to wipe the grin from his face as you shrug lightly.

“Well, I did make the school choir… maybe you and the others can come to some performances or something?” You suggest, and Maverick wasted no time in agreeing.

“I’ll be there for every performance I can be.” He swears, making your smile widen as you go in for another hug, grateful that your dad was supporting your passion instead of shooting it down like you had feared.

“Hey, pops! Stop hogging the future superstar!” Jake calls over to you and Maverick, making you both laugh out loud as you pull away, turning around to look at him and the rest of the Daggers as Bradley steps forward.

“I just think the most important thing is I finally found myself a singing partner.” Bradley says proudly, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to his side as everyone chuckles.

“Bold assumption that I want to be your singing partner there Bradley.” You say with a laugh as Bradley’s jaw drops in mock shock.

“Come on! At least one song a week. Deal?” Bradley bargains, everyone falling silent and awaiting your response.

“Okay. Deal.”

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cooliogirl101 · 6 months

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Per my last post, I mentioned how hyperintuition might be an interesting signet power to explore, combined with Violet's intelligence. Here's an experiment in how that might play out:

"Why?" Violet asked, sounding genuinely curious. Xaden blinked. Out of all the responses he'd expected, that hadn't been one of them.

"Why shouldn't we be friends?" Violet repeated, after Xaden didn't respond.

"The history between our families isn't enough for you?" Xaden scoffed, injecting as much scorn as possible into his voice.

"We agreed a long time ago not to let what happened between our parents influence our relationship," Violet said calmly, looking at him with those too-perceptive eyes of hers. "Try again."

"Look, let's not make this more awkward than it has to be. We're already tied together through our dragons which is difficult enough as it is. Adding emotions into the mix--" Longing, fondness, admiration so intense it made this chest hurt. "--is only going to complicate things."

"If anything, that only provides more reason for us to become friends," Violet argued. "You're right, it's not an ideal situation, but the fact of the matter is, we're bound together because our dragons are mated to each other. Your life is tied to mine, we're never going to be able to be apart from each other for any significant amount of time. If that's the case, why not make the best of it? If we're going to be stuck together, isn't it better if things are amicable between us? Otherwise we're just both going to be miserable all the time."

It all seemed very logical to Violet. She didn't understand why Xaden was being so stubborn about this whole thing.

"Have you ever considered that maybe I just don't want to be friends with you?" He asked bitingly. "That I don't care for you and I don't particularly want to try?"

Hurt bubbled up like a river of acid in Violet's throat and she swallowed, feeling the corners of her eyes prickle. She ignored it, shoving it back down and expertly wiping her face clean of any emotion-- say what you want about Liilith Sorrengail but she had taught her daughter some things, one of which was putting up emotional walls-- and focused instead on the feeling of wrongness sitting like a weight in her chest.

"That excuse would work better if you hadn't spent the past several months seeking me out," she murmured. "There's a reason why you don't want to get close to me. Or rather, why you don't want me to get close to you, isn't there?" There was a bell-like humming in her ears. She was on the right track. "And it's not because you don't care-- if you wanted me to think that, you shouldn't have made me those daggers or commissioned me that saddle, Xaden."

She tilted her head in thought as she considered what she knew about Xaden Riorson. Or rather, what she didn't know.

"The secret meetings you've been having. The trips you've been taking. The thing you've been hiding from me," Violet said, watching Xaden's face carefully. "That wouldn't have anything to do with this, would it?"

She exhaled as the air seemed to shift to the tune of a puzzle piece sliding into place.

"If that's the case, perhaps you don't want me getting closer to you because it increases my chances of figuring out what you're involved in. As for why you're so determined to keep the truth from me...maybe you think I'll report what you're doing? No-- that's not quite it. Or at least, it's not the whole truth," Violet mused as her chest twinged uncomfortably. "Maybe you're afraid it'll change how I view you? I think that's part of it. Or is it that what you're involved in is so dangerous that getting closer to you could potentially endanger me by association?" The thrumming in her ears got louder, even as she watched Xaden stiffen abruptly. "That's got to be it, hasn't it?"

Xaden fought to keep his expression blank as Violet continued talking with the confidence of someone who had Magic itself telling her she was right.

Even before receiving her signet ability, her mind was something formidable. Afterwards? Now it was more than a little terrifying being on the other side of that intelligence.

"Of course, that's only part of the puzzle. Now, as for what you're hiding...well, obviously you're not the only one involved. Garrick and Bodhi are clearly in on it, quite possibly all the Marked ones are. Now, a secret that involves the children of the rebellion leaders and is so damning that you worry I'll turn against you and that even being friends with you would drag me down by association--" Her voice faded into silence as she let the implications sink in.

Xaden's eyes widened with something like panic. "It's not what you think--!"

"No, I don't think you're plotting another revolution, Xaden," Violet said quietly, cutting him off. He relaxed slightly. "The thing is, whatever you know, Sgaeyl knows, and what Sgaeyl knows, Tairn knows."

Isn't that right, Tairn? She asked the dragon who had been uncharacteristically quiet until now.

I chose you for your intelligence. Tairn let out a resigned sigh. It was all the answer she needed.

"And if Tairn chose to keep this from me, then whatever you're doing is not something that will put me or Navarre at risk. But it is something that you would be killed for doing." Violet paused. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I don't think any amount of ignorance or emotional distance between us is going to shield me from getting dragged along with you if you go down. So let me ask you again, Xaden, because I think I have a right to know-- what are you hiding from me?"

A pause. Then Andarna's voice piped up in her head, impressed.

You got all that from 'I don't want to be friends with you'?!

(Violet: I don't like to pry into my friends' secrets. They're entitled to their privacy.

Xaden: We're not friends.

Violet: ...

Violet: Gonna make you regret saying that.)

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lovedrunkheadcanons · 8 months

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WARNINGS: Gojo Satoru x Female OC, fluff, cuteness, comfort, communication, established relationship, marriage, husband+wife, migraines, gets a little spicy at the end.

SUMMARY: Satoru's wife comes to his aid, once again. Or alternatively: How Satoru came about the blindfold and seemingly indestructible black shirt (you know the one).😉

Read on AO3

Prequel: Gojo Takes a Wife (also on AO3)

It had been a rather frigid Sunday morning as Hannah waved goodbye to Kiyotaka, returning her home from 9:30 Mass. She took off her boots, wet with snow, and hung her coat and red scarf on the wall. She couldn’t wait to spend the afternoon relaxing, nose deep in a book with a fresh cup of chamomile tea. And with her husband. Satoru had been away on a week-long mission and had come home late last night. She had missed him terribly, but any chance of cozying with him by the fire went up in smoke the second her eyes caught a very distraught looking Makoto standing by the entrance. The housekeeper's face was almost grave stricken. Hannah felt her stomach tighten with unease. She knew that face.

“Don’t tell me it’s another one.”

The housekeeper bowed her head. “I’m afraid so, ma’am.”

“Where is he now?”

“In his room. He refuses food or drink and I’m starting to worry.”

Hannah dropped her purse and dashed for her husband’s bedroom, which they both shared. Upon making it down the hallway, she saw how his bedroom door was cracked just a tad, so the protective charm couldn’t deny anyone entry. Hannah quickly, but very quietly, opened the sliding door. There, she spotted her husband lying on the bed, shirtless like he hadn’t awoken, pillows stacked on top of his head to try and block out any excess light or noise. The room was very dark, but sunlight still managed to fester through.

Hearing someone approach, Satoru lifted a pillow to see a figure that could be his wife, but everything was shifting so madly in and out of focus, it was hard to be sure. His stomach roiled from the movement and he felt as though he might be sick again, having already vomited in the bowl next to his bed. Still, he reached out for her, groaning.

Seeing her husband in such a vulnerable state made Hannah’s heart ache.

“My poor darling,” she said and rushed to his side, wasting little time hoisting her dress over her shoulders and unclasping her bra to join him in the bed. As per usual, Satoru waited for his wife to pull the covers back and get herself comfy before rolling on top of her, nuzzling his face into her bosom. The skin to skin contact was more for relief than sexual pleasure. Her scent always brought about a calming effect, helping him with the overarching pain, which felt as though harpoons were being lanced into his skull, sinking their way further inside and not letting go like hooks. Cradling his head, Hannah ran a gentle hand through his snow white hair, kissing his forehead, and pulled the covers back over him to block out the sunlight.

“Hannah,” Satoru weakly croaked.

“Shh,” she hushed, rubbing his muscled back and shoulders. At least his nose wasn’t bleeding like last time. Her fingers gently worked their way up the base of his skull. “Close your eyes now, love, and go back to sleep.”

Makoto arrived not long afterwards with a pitcher of water, along with a drinking glass, a clean bowl, and a wet washcloth. The fact her mistress was half naked didn’t deter her. The bed covers and Satoru’s head protected his wife’s modesty, not that she hadn’t seen it before. She understood.

“Does he have any meetings scheduled today?” she heard her mistress whisper.

“One,” Makoto answered. “A mission debrief meant for yesterday.”

Hannah sighed. Leave it to the higher-ups not to give her husband the Sunday off. “Cancel it, please. Tell them I was the reason why.”

Makoto cocked her head. “Wouldn’t it be better to say he is indisposed?”

Hannah turned sadly towards her housekeeper. “They mustn’t know, Makoto. If we say he is indisposed they’ll start asking questions. Have them blame me for the disruption. Lord knows they do enough already.

Few people were aware the Six Eyes wielder succumbed to life debilitating migraines. The Six Eyes was an ocular cursed technique which allowed the benefactor to see targets from great distances, differentiate between other cursed energies, and examine things from a molecular and cellular level. He could even see through solid objects. However, continually keeping both reversed curse technique and Infinity activated had its drawbacks. If he wasn’t given sufficient time to rest and recharge, Satoru’s eyes, brain, and stomach would be thrown out of sync, causing mind-splitting headaches and nausea. The aid of specialty sunglasses and bandages often kept the migraines at bay, but they’d gotten significantly worse, five episodes in the past two months alone (especially with what happened that past Christmas Eve). Hannah feared that if word got out that her husband had developed a neurological disease, it would somehow be used against him. She was willing to take the fall. The narrative that the Strongest had no weaknesses or vulnerabilities had to be maintained at all costs.

“Exactly what should I tell them?” Makoto asked.

“Tell them he has decided on a whim to take his wife out to the countryside and will not be back till Tuesday. That should give him enough time to rest. Cancel all meetings, mission debriefs, and classes he has planned as well. I don’t want him going anywhere until this awful migraine subsides.”

Satoru winced and groaned. Hannah planted another kiss on his head as Makoto took the bowl with his vomit.

“I’ve brought a clean one for him and some water,” she said.

“Yes, I see that. Thank you.”

“Do you need anything, ma’am?

Hannah smiled at the devoted housekeeper. The two of them would do anything for this one man. “No, Makoto-san,” she said, stroking Satoru’s temple dotingly as he slept. “I’m fine.”

“Very well. I’ll come back in an hour with more Bufferin. He’s already taken 600 mg.”

Hannah thanked the housekeeper for her heroic efforts and was soon left alone with her husband sleeping in her arms. She lovingly brushed his cheek with her fingers. He had such a childlike sweetness to him when asleep. Lately the stress of being the world's strongest sorcerer had started to show, though her husband hid it well. That happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care front he put on fooled most people, even his close friends. Hannah couldn’t help but worry. It was only a matter of time till the next migraine hit, and then what would they do? There’s got to be a way, she pondered, trying to brainstorm a possible solution.

Hannah's eyes landed on his glasses folded on their nightstand next to the roll of medical bandages he used to cover his eyes. The bandages themselves were nothing special, however, all his glasses were made out of a custom plexiglass found primarily in luxury cars (bought from a fancy Italian manufacturer he liked). Although the shade Satoru wore would be highly illegal if installed on a motorized vehicle; It was far too opaque for the average person to see through. Her eyes then wandered to the closed book beside the bandages. Madame Camille’s….

And then the idea struck like lightning.

Hannah’s phone was in her purse near the house entrance, but Satoru’s phone was within reach on the nightstand. Careful not to disturb her husband dozing on her chest, she picked it up and furiously tapped the passcode on the Lock Screen. She searched through his contacts. Found what she’d been looking for and began texting her message. Five minutes later, the deed was done.

She would have her answer by tomorrow.

“I had no idea: The world’s strongest ‘headache’ suffers from chronic migraines. Who would’ve thought?”

Kumari was in the middle of sharpening a dull santoku against a whetstone, striking the steel in a curved downwards motion, never up. She wore her everyday apron underneath a green blouse and blue jeans, her shiny raven hair roped in a single braid down her back. Hannah had always been secretly envious of the Indian woman’s hair. It was so lustrous and thick. She knew many women who would pay top dollar to have it fashioned into a wig, but that wasn’t why she’d come to see the weapons specialist in her shop.

“Except nothing seems to alleviate them,” Hannah sighed, after telling Kumari of her husband’s condition. “I don’t know what else to do, which is why I’d like your input on something.”

Kumari placed the sharpened santoku on the counter, tucking a loose strand of raven hair behind her ear. “Okay, lay it on me.”

Hannah opened the gold lock of her Kelly bag - Sellier 25 Brown Epsom - and pulled out her copy of Madame Camille’s Simple Guide to Enchanted Textiles. She laid it on the store countertop and flipped to page 89, turning it around for Kumari to read.

“What are your thoughts on black muga silk?”

The Indian woman blinked. “Black muga silk? You mean raw muga silk that’s been dyed?”

“No, this type of silk is different,” Hannah said, pointing to an illustration in the book. “It’s spun from the cocoon of an Assamese black witch moth. Instead of yellow or white, the silk comes out pitch black. Supposedly, when the threads are woven into a cloth and imbued with a person’s cursed energy, it can’t be torn or destroyed from other curse related attacks.”

Kumari’s brown eyes widened in realization. “Oooh, that muga silk. Yes, I know what you’re talking about now. You mostly hear it mentioned in ghost stories told to frighten young children.”

Hannah’s heart sank at this. “So it doesn’t exist?”

Kumari flipped a page in the book. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then it’s real?” Hannah corrected, brimming with newfound hope.

Kumari set the book aside and leaned over the countertop, chin in hand. Her dark brows narrowed. “Forgive me, Hannah, but I’m curious. If a person like yourself were to acquire such a rare and mystical black silk, what would you intend to use it for?”

Hannah rummaged through her Kelly again and whipped out a folded piece of paper. She handed it to Kumari who quickly unraveled it. The weapon specialist studied its contents, looking perplexed at all the measurements and amatueric drawings, eventually figuring out what it was.

“Ha,” she laughed. “Well, I’ll be. How cute.”

“I-I wouldn’t need very much,” Hannah added, blushing at her friend’s opinion of her drawing. “A yard would be more than plenty. Do you think you’d help me locate some?

Kumari sighed and glanced at the paper with doubt. “I don’t know, Hannah. This isn’t your everyday, run-of-the-mill type fabric. Even on the black market, it’s hard to come by.”

Hannah clasped her friend’s hand. “Please, Kumari. I’m begging you. I’ll pay whatever you want.”

Kumari stared into her best friend’s desperate hazel eyes, mirroring the look of someone who would go to great lengths for the people she loved, knowing she would do the same if placed in her shoes. “Well, alrighty then,” she relented. “I’ll get in touch with my contact up in Assam and see what he can find. But I can’t make any promises, Hannah. Normal muga silk, in itself, is already a rarity.

“Oh, thank you, Kumari,” Hannah rejoiced, breaking into one of her infectious smiles. “It means the world to hear you say that.”

“We’ll see,” Kumari cautioned. “Oh, and tell that chutiya husband of yours I hope he feels better. I’ll keep the migraines a secret too, if you’d like.”

“Yes, we’d appreciate that very much.”

“Good. I’ll message you as soon as I learn anything.”

Hannah leapt over the countertop to crush the specialist in as big a hug her petite arms could muster. “Oh Kumari, there is a special place in Heaven with your name on it.”

The Indian woman laughed, setting her little English friend back on the ground. “When it comes to Satoru, I expect us all to have halos in the end.”

The two wives laughed and Hannah turned and waved goodbye to her dear friend, leaving Kumari’s shop with more hope in her heart than when she arrived.

All there was left for her to do was pray and wait.

“What’s this for again? Because I don’t remember you skipping my birthday.”

“Why don't you stop asking and find out?”

Satoru was sitting on the loveseat in the parlor where they ate most of their meals. He couldn’t understand why his wife was so adamant he open this gift. The box wasn’t very big. He could hold it in one hand. She had gone about wrapping it in striped red, blue, and purple paper, tied in a bow with purple ribbon. He began loosening the ribbon, but soon grew suspicious again. “Seriously though, is this a prank? I swear I haven’t done anything. I’ve been good.”

His wife surrendered a great sigh. “Since when have I ever pulled a prank on you, Satoru?” She methodically ran her fingers through his soft white hair, having buzzed the sides yesterday. “Please open it.”

Satoru let her finish petting him and commenced to untying the purple ribbon. Normally he would use the Six Eyes to see through the box, but didn’t want to feign his surprise just in case. He lifted the cover, but instead of showing surprise he showed mild confusion about what was inside.

“You got me a…headband?”

“No, silly,” Hannah said, laughing at his honest mistake. “It’s a blindfold.”

“A blindfold?”

“Mmhm. So you don’t have to wear those fickle dressings around your eyes any more. This one is more…state of the art, shall we say.”

Satoru held the blindfold up, examining it closely from side to side, flipping it over. “What’s it made out of? The fabric is kind of funky. I can’t figure — ”

“Never mind what it’s made out of,” Hannah ushered. “Try it on.”

Satoru chuckled at his wife’s behest. “Goodness, my sweetheart is being really pushy today,” he teased, stretching the silky blindfold over his unruly white hair. “That’s strange. I have it your period doesn’t start till next week.”

It was just the two of them in the parlor. Hannah knew he didn’t mean it as a tasteless joke and was simply stating a fact. He really did know her menstrual cycle. He knew it backwards, forwards, upside down, and sideways; When she was ovulating and when she wasn’t; The days she was most fertile (clear slippery v. thick and dry); The exact date her period was predicted to start and when it was expected to end. Husbands pick up on those sorts of things when going the extra mile to impregnate their wives. Satoru had her reproduction system down to an exact science. Her period was predicted to start next week, like he said, but she didn’t care much about that at the moment. Her mind was elsewhere.

“God, please work,” she quietly prayed.

“What was that?” Satoru pulled the blindfold down his neck, pushing it back on his forehead. His gossamer-colored hair stuck straight up, adjusting the fabric over his eyes. “Hey, mind telling me why you’re acting so…so…” He took in his surroundings. “Woah.”

Hannah bit the insides of her cheeks with bated breath, waiting for him to finish his initial thought. “So…?”

Satory stood up from the loveseat and turned around the parlor, bewildered. Without glasses or bandages, looking at things with the Six Eyes at times was like staring directly into the sun, straining his vision, but suddenly the strain was gone. The blindfold wasn’t like wearing sunglasses, nor the bandages he’d been experimenting with. This was entirely different. It had him a tad spooked. “Okay, for real. What the hell is this shit made out of?”

“Special muga silk from an Assamese black witch moth,” his wife blurted in one go.

“An Assamese what?”

Hannah explained her visit with Kumari three weeks prior. The weapons specialist’s contact in Assam pulled through a week later and had found a merchant willing to relinquish her 5½ yards of black muga silk for a small fortune. Kumari thought the merchant was gouging the price, but Hannah felt in no position to haggle. Her husband needed this silk. As an added value, the merchant was also willing to sell them black muga thread for sewing. Hannah purchased both and for the next three weeks got very busy. She just hoped Satoru wouldn’t be too upset with the amount missing from their joint checking account if he hadn’t noticed already.

“I made you a shirt too.”

Satoru stared blankly at her through the blindfold. “You made me a shirt?”

Hannah nodded with enthusiasm and walked out the parlor and down the hallway to quickly return holding what looked, by all means, to be a plain black tee shirt.

“Ta-dah!!”

Satoru quirked a snowy eyebrow (which no one could see) and took the hand-sewn garment from his wife. Like the blindfold, he gave it a once over, shaking out any possible wrinkles. Seemed harmless enough. Knowing it easier to beg forgiveness than seek permission, he started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, flashing her his abs and taut muscles, and slipped the tee over his shoulders.

“What do you think?” his wife asked nervously.

He smoothed the funky fabric. “You said it was made of silk. Why does it stretch?”

“That’s your cursed energy at play. When the silk comes into contact with a person’s cursed energy, it alters the fabric’s properties. Depending on how strong you are, the silk should never rip, tear, burn, fade, or disintegrate. Stretches too.”

“So mine’s essentially indestructible,” Satoru assumed.

“Yup,” Hannah quipped. “That’s the idea. It’s the perfect shirt, all in one.”

“Hmph” Satoru rolled his shoulders, testing his mobility in the homemade shirt. “Neat.”

Hannah was very pleased that the blindfold and shirt were to his liking. She had worked so hard on them. He hadn’t stopped wearing the blindfold, though the shirt appeared to have shrunk somehow, molding to his body. It must be due to his cursed energy, she thought. Hannah could make out every contour of his broadly sculpted chest and strong arms, counting all six of his abs with ease. He was positively ravishing to look at. Something warm pooled in her stomach.

“Um, on second thought,” she added. “Maybe it’s a bit tight.”

“Nah, it fits fine.” But he paused upon noticing where his wife’s eyes were looking, and smirked. He flexed for her in a sexy pose. “I’m guessing it meets your approval?”

“S-Sure,” she swallowed, bringing a hand to cover her blushing cheek. “It looks…very dashing on you.”

Ooo, she shouldn’t have said that.

Her delivery wasn't subtle either. Dashing, eh?

Satoru saw the opportunity present itself like a third gift and bit his tongue. Her bashful expressions never stopped being so goddamn arousing, his shy little trollop, his muse. Oh, how he adored her with his entire soul. He was gonna nibble those rose petal lips if it was the last thing he did. Satoru felt his heart rate dance in giddy delight, pumping blood away from other parts of his body to fill the limp juncture nestled between his legs, hardening. He loved how easy his wife was to tease. This next round was gonna be fun.

“Hmm, I don’t know, Princess,” he purred, slinking his way back to her like a prowling tomcat. “Judging by how ‘tight’ it is, I might need help taking it off.” He towered directly over her and seized her hips, maneuvering his large hands ever so slightly to covet the plump round cheeks hiding beneath her dress. He rumbled in her ear, voice matching the silky-ness of his shirt. “Your expertise in this department may be required.”

He squeezed.

“Really, Satoru?!” Hannah gasped, but did not pull away from his advances. “Here?” They hadn’t left the parlor and there was no door. Megumi and Shoko could walk in at any moment (which had happened far more often than naught). Satoru tugged the blindfold up to his forehead.

“Yes, here,” he growled with bedroom blue eyes, already roaming his hands up the folds of her skirt. “I need to thank you, and I can think of no greater way than having you right here, right now.” She had taken such good care of him, it was his time to return the favor.

These were truly thoughtful gifts after all.

Plus, she hadn’t lied. He did look awfully ravishing in the shirt. Hands groping her ass, he lowered himself on his knees and lifted her skirt to begin trailing hot, butterfly kisses up, up, up the sides of her leg, mouth slowly edging its way to her panties. The sweet smell of her arousal was overwhelming. He felt dizzy.

“N-No, darling, no,” he heard her whimper, trying to close her legs with his head in between. “That isn’t what I want.”

“Then what do you want, sweetheart?” He planted a kiss on her inner thigh and removed himself from under her dress. “Tell me.”

A wave of delight tingled all the way down his spine to his groin when he watched those pretty hazel eyes flank his front. “That,” she said, pointing.

Satoru followed her finger to where his now very defined erection was pushing against his pants.

He looked up at her. “How do you want it?”

The thirst in her eyes was insatiable now. Satoru swore his hard cock lurched (gimme, gimme) at the sight of her swallowing. “Couch,” she ordered.

Just like turning a switch, he relinquished all control.

Satoru scrambled his way back to the loveseat and assumed position, widening his hips for her.

Hannah giggled at his eagerness and got down on her knees. He couldn’t help but moan in great relief when that zipper came undone. She flipped over his soiled boxers enough for the hardened shaft to break through and fully stretch out. Ah, yes, much better. He shimmied in the loveseat, making himself comfortable as Hannah helped him ditch the pants and boxers all together, his johnson free as a jaybird.

He looked funny with the blindfold stuck to his forehead. Hannah giggled, wiping the drool off his face, and readjusted the silk. Wouldn’t want those beautiful blue eyes to miss all the action, now, would we? Meanwhile, his new shirt stayed on. It didn’t need to be removed for this activity.

Enjoying his reactions, the little wife artfully began undoing the top buttons of her dress…pop…pop…pop…knowing by the secretions oozing out his tip that her husband was very pleased to see she was not wearing a bra. Her ample bosom came spilling out the sides like two mouth-watering fruits and Satoru wanted a taste, but Hannah reasserted dominance. “Ah, ah, ah,” she softly reprimanded, moving his hands away. “I get what I want first, remember?” She laughed and kissed his pouty lips. Once unbuttoned, she scooched in closer, and with her index, swiped a dollop of sticky secretion off the tender-most part of his penis, rubbing it between her fingers, testing its consistency. Her husband’s breath staggered, his whole body quivering from the lightest touch.

He was healthy as a horse.

“You ready, darling?” she finally said, widening his hips so she could sandwich herself in between.

“For you?” Satoru huffed, unable to take his eyes off her, bracing for impact. “Always.”

“Where would you like me to start?”

“Wherever you want, baby. You have the reins.”

She knew what that meant and immediately dove underneath him, stroking his length up and down with a goddess-like hand, while her tongue licked every square inch of his balls, gently sucking and nibbling. All Satoru could think about as his wife’s supplicant mouth made short work of him was, Yup, this is definitely my new favorite shirt.

He wanted to laugh, but couldn’t.

#jujustu kaisen #jjk #soft smut #smut #jjk fanfic #satoru gojo #jjk oneshot #gojo x oc #gojo satoru #satoru x oc #gojo takes a wife #jjk gojo #satoru gojo x oc

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shmaptainwrites · 11 months

Text

[CH.9] New Doctor on the Block

Chapter 9: Second Chance

Pairings: Hawkeye Pierce x fem!Reader

Characters: Hawkeye Pierce, B.J. Hunnicutt, Father Mulcahy

Summary: B.J. encourages Reader to talk to Hawkeye about how she really feels

Warnings: mentions of death, insecurity

Note: And that's it! The last chapter of the first installment! I hope you guys enjoyed this and stay tuned for book 2!

Series Masterlist - NDotB Masterlist - Two's Company Masterlist

“What happened to you?” B.J. asked, walking into the mess tent the next day for breakfast. “You look terrible.”

“I didn’t sleep last night,” you stared solemnly at your uneaten breakfast and coffee.

“That’s funny,” he said sitting down. “Neither did Hawkeye.”

“B.J. I’m not in the mood right now for any teasing,” you rubbed your temples and closed your eyes.

“Not teasing,” he said. “I’m serious, what’s going on with you two?”

“Maybe ask me later,” you mumbled, “Here take my food I’m not hungry,” you slid the plate over to him and got up to leave the tent when the door opened and Hawkeye stood in front of you.

You both stared at each other for a moment before you gathered your senses and stepped aside so he could pass. He did without much of a glance in your direction and you quickly scuttled out of the tent.

When Hawkeye came to sit at the table with B.J. and Father Mulcahy, who had since joined him, B.J. didn’t waste a second in interrogating his friend.

“What was that?” he asked.

“What was what?” Hawkeye picked at his powdered eggs and looked up tiredly at his friend and the priest who shared their table.

“I believe B.J. is referring to your interaction with Captain Tomasson,” Father Mulcahy interjected.

Good thing I’m not the only one concerned about this . B.J. thought to himself.

“It’s nothing,” Hawkeye said, placing a forkful of eggs in his mouth. “Just a very simple case of my actions coming back to haunt me. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he ate a couple more spoonfuls of breakfast before standing up. “I’m due in post-op.”

B.J. shook his head and sighed when Hawkeye left the table and turned to Father Mulcahy.

“Any ideas on what to do, Father?”

“None at the moment,” he shook his head. “Perhaps they both need some time and prayers. I know Hawkeye will come to talk to you about it.”

B.J. asked about you.

“That one you might have to corner, but give her some breathing room,” he suggested. “She should share when she’s ready.”

“What if she’s never ready?”

“That’s the million dollar question,” the Father sighed and B.J. ran a hand across his face, he had a feeling the next few days were about to suck more than they usually did.

—

As per B.J.’s assumption, the next few days were nothing short of hell. It was as if to you, Hawkeye had fallen off the face of the planet and Hawkeye was doing a pretty good job himself pretending you weren’t there when he wasn’t distracting himself with games, practical jokes, and booze.

The whole team could feel the shift, It had almost gotten to the point of affecting their work.

“Hey, what are you doing? You need to clamp that first,” B.J. remarked while he assisted you with a surgery.

“Oh, right, sorry,” you shook your head. “My head’s just not here.”

“Your head hasn’t been here for a while now,” he commented. “After our shift, we’ll take a walk. Just you and me and that’s not a suggestion.”

“Sure I can’t take a rain check?”

“You’ve been rain-checking me for over a week.”

“Alright,” you sighed. “Clamp, please.”

“Yes, doctor,” the nurse passed you the instructed tool and you managed to finish that patient with only a few minor hiccups.

There were still a few more wounded that needed to be tended to so you prepared to be an anesthesiologist for a bit while B.J. took the reins. You took one of the last patients and then washed up side by side with B.J. dreading your walk.

“You look like you’d rather be slicing open another soldier than out here with me right now,” he chuckled. “Am I really that bad?”

“No,” you shook your head, “but your questions are.”

“And what do you think I’m going to ask you?” he shoved his hands in his pockets as you trudged along the compound.

“About Ben,” you chewed your lip.

“Bingo,” he nodded and looked down at you. “What happened that night? I’ve tried asking but Hawkeye won’t talk to me either. You guys are my friends and this place is already lousy enough without you two not talking to each other.”

You stayed silent.

“So? Come on, spit it out.”

“He kissed me and I freaked out, okay?”

B.J. nodded his head. “Ah, I see.”

“What? That’s it? Just ‘ I see ’?” you asked.

“Well, why did you freak out?”

“I-I…It’s hard to explain,” you looked down at your feet.

“Try me,” he shrugged.

You thought about it for a minute, trying to see what words you could use for it to make sense.

“A terrible thought, but let’s say Peg passed away,” you started. “You have to take care of Erin, she’s your top priority and providing for her is the most important thing.”

B.J. nodded, following your train of thought.

“You’re heartbroken that Peg is gone, obviously, but over time your heart aches a little less, then a little less, then a little less, until finally, you think you start to feel something other than ache. But you can see right in front of you is that same situation that took Peg away from you in the first place. Would you risk it? Just because your heart felt something other than pain for a little while? Just because maybe, just maybe you thought she’d make you happy again?”

B.J. was thoughtful a moment before responding.

“I think I would risk it. And I’m not just saying that,” he assured you.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, why don’t I put it this way,” he said, taking a turn in your seat. “If you could go back and change life so you wouldn’t have met your husband and wouldn’t have to go through losing him, would you do it?”

“No,” you didn’t hesitate to answer. “I wouldn’t trade the time I had with him for anything in the world.”

“So what you’re saying is if you love someone, or even think you could love someone, maybe the hurt is worth it because you’d still have whatever little time you were able to have together?”

You let out a shaky breath and chewed on your lip before admitting, “B.J. it scared the crap out of me. How the hell am I supposed to make up for that? He probably hates me now.”

“Why don’t you talk to him first and find out,” B.J. suggested. “Hawkeye Pierce is a stubborn man, set in his ways, but I don’t think I’ve seen someone more successful in getting him to change his mind. Unintentionally at that.”

You nodded your head slowly.

“Why don’t you go over to the swamp now? He should be there alone, Frank has post-op and I’ll stay out of your way for a while.”

“You sure Beej?” you asked. “We just pulled a long shift, you're probably exhausted.”

“I’m not as exhausted as I am hoping all this gets resolved. I’ll sit in the mess tent for a while and drink some coffee. Don’t worry about me too much.”

You nodded your head again and turned to go towards the swamp before turning around and tapping B.J. on the shoulder, causing him to look back and allow you to give him a hug.

“Thank you, B.J. You’re a good friend and I’m sorry I’ve been a bad one.”

“Don’t mention it, and you haven’t been a bad friend, just subpar,” he teased and you let out an airy chuckle.

He wished you luck before you turned off to go quickly get changed and head over to the swamp. It was late so you wore a pyjama shirt and pants and pulled a housecoat over yourself to keep warm from the slight breeze outside.

When you came to the door of the swamp you knocked three times on the door.

“Just a minute,” you heard Hawkeye inside. “Alright, come in.”

You opened the door and saw his back was turned to you, taking some laundry off a clothesline.

“Ben, can we talk?” you asked, stepping inside.

“Talk,” he nodded slowly. “We haven’t done that in a while.”

“No we haven’t,” you agreed. “C-Can I sit?” you asked, pointing to the stool.

“Please,” he nodded and sat across from you in his cot. “So what was so urgent you had to come and disturb my laundering?”

“I wanted to apologize,” you said simply. “For how cold I’ve been this past week, for…for the way I reacted that night.”

“Wasn’t exactly the standing ovation I was hoping for.”

You chuckled a little, nervously, and scratched the back of your neck.

“You were right, m-my worries and concerns didn’t have to do with my lack of faith in you. I think I was too caught up in my past to see what my future could look like.”

He raised a brow and you continued.

“And I think I like the look of it with you in it. I-If that’s still something you’d want,” you added quickly.

“What about all this fear of uncertainty? Unless I missed something we still can’t control everything that happens in this war otherwise I’d be in Maine and you’d be in New Hampshire.”

“A good friend made me realize that the time we have with someone, however short it might be, is still worth the hurt we might feel if it ends.”

“B.J.?” Hawkeye asked and you both laughed and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like something B.J. would say.”

“Maybe we can start things out normally?” you suggested. “Set the scene, anywhere in the world.”

He thought about it for a moment before settling on, “Dover, New Hampshire. A bar off the corner of a street, near the hospital.”

You smiled and stood up to go and sit next to him.

“Hi, I saw you from across the bar.” You offered him your hand. “I’m a single mother of two, I work as a trauma surgeon in the ER at the hospital down the road. My husband died in the Korean War and I’ve been wondering if I’d ever get a second chance at what I had with him. I think you’re my second chance.”

Hawkeye smiled and took your hand. “Hi, I’m Ben Pierce,” he said, “and I’d love to be your second chance.”

“You sure? I’ve got a lot of baggage?” you joked.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of trunk space,” he assured you and you both laughed. “I’ll take you to the movies tomorrow and prove it.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” you agreed and shook on it.

You both stood up and Hawkeye walked you to the door, but before you left he asked you a question.

“Can I give you a kiss goodnight?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh no reason, just once a girl gave me a cup of tea and in return, I gave her a kiss and she freaked out on me. Just wanted to make sure,” he teased.

“I’m never gonna live that one down am I?”

“I dunno, let’s see how well you do with this one, then we can talk,” he took your face in his hands and you looked up at him with the first sparkle of hope in your eyes that you’d had since your husband died.

He leaned down and closed the space between you, your arms pressed against his chest.

When you pulled apart he looked at you with a cheeky smile on his lips,

“Now I’m really not going to be able to say no to lunch with your family when we get back.”

“Ben, you always know what to say, don’t you?”

“It’s a gift,” he shrugged.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you stepped up on your toes and pecked his lips. “Your tip.”

He gave you a small peck back, “Your change. Goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” you smiled and stepped back, giving him a small wave before leaving the swamp and going to let B.J. know his tent was now danger free, but you were sure the lovesick smile on your face did more than your words ever could.

Tags: @montyfandomlove @robin-the-enby

#hawkeye pierce #hawkeye pierce x reader #hawkeye pierce fanfiction #mash #mashblr #mash fanfiction #hawkeye pierce x you

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simp999 · 1 year

Text

A New Home Ch. 8

Various Splatoon Manga x Skilled! Isekai'd! Reader

Wc: 1.1k

A/N: I know that these are splatoon 2 hairstyles but it suits the character's personalities so much more and you can't stop me ;)

Back to the start! Previous Next

You make your way out of Inkopolis tower, weapon in hand. You hear your name being called out, and you shift your gaze towards a tall, maybe 6'1 or so, inkling with lime green ink and freckles. You're not sure how your name got out, but you suppose that's what happens when you show up outta nowhere and put others in their place with minimal effort. The lime-green inkling enthusiastically introduces himself as Milo, and begins to ramble about himself.

‘He’s not from the manga, is he?’

You notice he's wearing retro specs, a green zip hoodie, and purple hi-horses. A shorter inkling donning dark blue ink, pilot goggles, a black anchor tee and black seahorses comes up behind him and slaps Milo on the back, quieting him.

"Sorry 'bout him, he likes to talk. Anyways, the name's Leo! I heard you've been rising the ranks really quick and well, um-" it seems Leo gets a little shy, maybe being embarrassed about something. You're about to shrug it off and make your way to Inkopolis tower, but the last one in the group stops you. She's a little shorter than Milo, and she has dark purple ink. She’s wearing a paisley bandanna, black inky rider, and octoling boots. She looks a little scary, but you can’t let her know that.

"-We need a leader, and we were hoping you might be willing. We've seen how strong you are in battle, and we think that you could do us well."

"Not that you have to, of course!" Milo cuts off the inkling girl quickly, assuring you to not step out of your comfort zone. He starts stuttering and blabbing again, but before long, you ask them;

"Why? Do you need a leader, that is. You could just play with some rando."

The inkling girl is the first to answer, short and sweet. "We want a solid team."

Now that sounds interesting. People who actually care about winning? They've piqued your interest.

Milo adds in that it's mostly just for ranked, but he thinks it's important that teammates should know and trust each other.

"Tell you what, I'll give it a shot. You've got one chance to prove it to me."

"Alright dude, let's do this!" Leo jumps in, excited to be battling by your side. "So what rank are ya anyways?"

Oh yeah, that.

"Uh, about that-"

"Doesn't matter, does it? It's not just a test for us, Leo. If we don't like them they're not going to be our leader."

Straight to the point, that girl. Good, that's good to have when it comes to communication between teammates.

You get ready for the battle and take note of everyone's weapons. Milo has a heavy splatling, Leo uses dapple dualies, and the purple girl uses an E-liter. You haven't gotten her name, it seems she doesn't trust you just yet.

You look at the stats of your first ranked battle. The mode was Splatzones. It wasn't bad per se, you did manage to win after all, but you definitely had to hold your own.

Milo got 7 splats, Leo got 5, and she got 8. You got 16, and the count was a KO. That girl is definitely the best of the three, but they've got lots to improve on. Leo's sulking in the corner, expecting you to leave them because of how often you had to save them.

You cross your arms and close your eyes in thought after analyzing the stats in front of you. After assessing your thoughts, you give them your answer.

"...Alright, I'm down if you guys still want me. But only if you're ready to train hard to get better. I see potential in you guys."

Leo immediately jumps up from his spot on the floor with a big smile on his face and runs up to you to hug you, and you accept it half-heartedly. Milo sounds like a broken record on repeat with the amount of thank you's coming from him. The girl, who's wiping her weapon off from the ink carefully looks at you and offers you respect. "You'll be a great leader, I'm looking forward to our tough training together. My name's Natasha, but call me Tasha."

You give her a nod of approval and slowly pull Leo off of you. The first thing you do is set up a private battle and have 2v2s at random. You immediately take note of their weak points and point them out during battles. Leo needs to learn to stay back and assess the situation at times, he's bad for charging right in. Milo is too much of a sweetheart and hesitates at times. Tasha needs to improve on mobility, she can't just stay in one spot the whole game.

"Eventually your opponents will get strong enough to get right up close to you, y'know. You'll have to be able to fight em' off."

They listened to your every word after learning how much experience you seemed to have. You can tell this team has already improved lots by the end of the night, after training for around 4 and a half hours. Looks like they're diligent, too. You call it quits because you can tell that everyone's getting sleepy, and it's no use practising if you can't play your hardest. Leo's trying hard to keep his eyes open, you bet he has a bad sleep schedule. Everyone packs up their weapons and they head out of the training grounds, Milo giving Leo a piggy back ride so he can sleep on the way home. Tasha takes his belt that has his dualies attached, letting her charger rest like a backpack on her back with some velcro straps.

You're about to part ways, but then you remember that you've got to sleep on that miserable bench again. You sigh, not looking forward to it.

"Everything alright, boss?" Milo asks in a hushed tone, not wanting to wake Leo.

You snicker a bit at the name, you're 90% sure that Milo had forgotten your name or he just said it for fun, and you accepted it.

"I, uh, ran from home a while back and I've got nowhere to stay. I've just been sleeping on benches for the past while, is all. Tough nights."

Milo gasps, surprised that such a skilled battler could be living on the streets. Do you not get lots of money from turfing?

You really do, but you're not sure how to get an apartment.

"Come live with us, please! We've got a spare room, you shouldn't have to live on the streets!"

You're about to do the whole polite 'nah it's fine' thing but you can't deny that you need an actual bed. Even sleeping on a couch would be tons better.

"I'd really appreciate that. Thank you, Milo."

Next part

Apr. 29.23

#fanfic #x reader #splatoon manga #splatoon manga x reader #splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #splatoon x reader #splatoon s4

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dialovers-translations · 2 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ayato Ecstasy [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the Chamber of Time

Ayato: ...I’m done trustin’ others.

( Now it’s just me, on my own... )

I can understand it in my brothers’ case still. I fucked up pretty badly there too. But...

( Yui...I thought that she was special... )

ー Ayato recalls Yui’s words

Yui: Ayato-kun...

It’ll be okay. I’ll forever be your ally, okay?

ー The flashback ends

Ayato: ( She said those words loud and clear, didn’t she...? Was it all just a lie...? )

( I trusted her...I wanted to have faith in her, at the very least... )

...So why, Chichinashi...?

*Rustle*

Ayato: Shitty Old Fart...Everythin’ is your fault, you hear me...!?

You just had to give me these powers I never asked for...

And as a result, I lost fuckin’ everythin’...

( If this is what I have to endure...Then being a King might not be... )

...

ー The scene shifts to Kino’s manor

Reiji: ...Haah.

ー Ruki walks up to him

Reiji: Oh dear, Ruki. Would you care for a cup of tea as well?

Ruki: No, I’m good. More importantly, my Familiar told me that you came into contact with that woman?

Reiji: ...Fufu. You have sharp ears, per usual. Yes, I did meet her.

Ruki: ...And? What did she say?

Reiji: Well, I doubt this will come as any surprise to you, but she seemed to be trying to convince me to give Ayato another chance.

It goes without saying that I declined.

Ruki: ...I see.

Reiji: She told me that Ayato is lonely.

Ruki: Hmph...Lonely, huh? ...Even though he has Eve by his side?

Reiji: Fufu. I told her the exact same thing.

Ayato is spoiled. It would appear to me that he has no idea what true solitude feels like...

This is an excellent opportunity to teach him. He can go ahead and suffer in despair all by himself...

Ruki: ...I must say, those are some rather harsh words to speak about your very own younger brother.

Reiji: Think of it as you please.

Speaking of younger brothers, how are things on your end? It seems that they helped her out.

Ruki: Apparently my younger brothers are opposed to my way of handling this. Well, I did have a faint suspicion of such already.

Reiji: ...So the Mukami brothers will take Ayato’s side?

Ruki: No, that’s not quite the case. I don’t think they realize just how severe the current situation is at present.

Reiji: I see. However, they will surely realize one day. Sooner rather than later.

Ruki: ...Have there been new developments?

Reiji: Yes. I received word from one of my Familiars in the Demon World.

The Vibora Clan has finally decided they will invade Eden.

Ruki: ...Excuse me? The Vibora...?

???: ...About that. The Vibora Clan asked the Church to back them up.

ー Kino joins the conversation

Kino: To use this opportunity to invade Eden and make quick work of the entire Vampire Clan...The two of them share a similar interest in said regard.

Ruki: ...

Kino: ...Judging by your reaction, I guess you’re worried after all? About your younger brothers remaining at Eden...

But those guys aren’t your blood-related siblings, are they? So why are you so concerned about them?

Ruki: While it is true that we share no genetic connection. However, we are still a family who have lived together for many years.

You have your group of comrades known as the ‘Ravens’ as well, don’t you?

Especially...Yuuri was his name? Didn’t you mention something about being raised together?

Kino: ...Well, I guess so. I guess you could say that Yuuri and I are basically family.

Ruki: Then you should know that blood kinship is of inferior importance.

Reiji: On the flip side, there are also cases in which blood-related siblings do not get along at all. ...Take us, as an example.

Kino: ...Seems like it. Fufu...

ー The scene shifts to the hallway in Eden

Monologue

Ever since,

Ayato-kun has isolated himself in the Chamber of Time.

During this time,

we received a letter from Zweig-san, the King of the Vibora.

For some reason, I have a very bad feeling about it.

I wanted to check what is written inside right away,

but no matter how many times I reached out,

Ayato-kun showed absolutely no signs,

of answering me from behind the other side of the door.

The more I tried to explain,

the whole situation with Reiji-san,

the more it sounded as if I was simply making excuses.

Perhaps,

Ayato-kun will never be able,

to trust me again.

*Knock knock*

Yui: Ayato-kun, come out...! I’m begging you!

*Knock knock*

Ayato: ...

Yui: ( ...I guess it’s no use after all... )

ー Azusa approaches her

Azusa: ...Eve. Why don’t you get some rest...?

Yui: Azusa-kun...Thanks. But...

ー The other two Mukami’s join in as well

Kou: Oh come on, just leave him be already. I mean, if he still refuses to understand after everything you’ve said, it’s a lost cause, no?

Yui: ( ...I have no other choice. Do I really...? )

( But...I don’t want to just give up now... )

Kou: ...More importantly, shouldn’t you check the letter soon?

Yuma: Exactly. I mean, some pretty bad shit could be written in there, no?

Yui: Well...You’re right but...It feels wrong to read someone else’s letter...

Kou: Still, it’d be all for nothing once it’s too late. Besides, the guy in question is refusing to leave his room.

Yui: ( ...I guess Kou-kun has a point... )

...Ayato-kun, I’ll read the letter in your place, okay?

Ayato: ...

*Flip*

Yui: Let’s see... ーー !?

( This is... )

Azusa: Eve...What’s wrong...?

Yui: There’s something...really bad in here...

Monologue

What we feared all along,

had become reality.

Inside the letter, the Vibora Clan informed us,

that they would come and attack Eden.

In other words,

it was a declaration of war,

from the Vibora to the Vampires...

A full-on war over the sovereignty of the Demon World,

had begun at last.

I froze in place with the letter still in my hands.

At that very moment,

my gaze fell upon an unexpected statement.

ーー If for some reason,

the King willingly gives up Eve,

and hands her over to us,

we would be willing to cease our attack.

Yui: ...

( What...should I do...? )

Kou: M-neko-chan, is everything alright...? You look pale.

Yui: Yeah...I’m just a little...

Ayato: ...Oi.

Yui: ...Ayato-kun!?

( I can hear his voice from behind the door... )

Ayato: ...What was written inside the letter?

Yui: Well...

( What now? I should just tell him the truth, right? No point in trying to hide it. )

( But... )

...The Vibora Clan is on their way to attack Eden...

Yuma: Aah!? For real!?

Azusa: Then, here as well...

Yui: I’m sure this place will become a battlefield...

Kou: No way!

ー Ayato leaves the room

*Creaaak*

Yui: ( ...The door...! )

Ayato: ...Oh shut up. Don’t make a big deal over it.

Yui: Ayato-kun!

Ayato: I don’t care who it is, if they want to come attack me, then bring it on.

I’ll just make quick work of all of them.

Yui: ( Ayato-kun...? )

( He seems oddly calm, or rather... )

( Compared to before, it’s almost... )

ー Ayato walks away

Yui: Ah, wait...!

( He left... )

( However, I’m glad he left the Chamber of Time at least. )

Kou: ...Is it just me or does he seem different?

Yui: ...You think so too, Kou-kun?

Kou: Yeah. It’s almost like he’s turned into a completely different person than before.

Yui: ( A different person... )

ー The scene shifts to the inner courtyard

Yui: ...

ー Yui recalls Ayato’s words

Ayato: I don’t care who it is, if they want to come attack me, then bring it on.

I’ll just make quick work of all of them.

ー The flashback ends

Yui: ( I guess he intends to fight all by himself... )

( Ayato-kun’s powers are immense. He might just be able to defeat the entire Vibora Clan on his own. )

( But...Even so, I can’t just sit still and watch a war break loose... )

( I’m sure that lots of lives will be sacrificed in this fight... )

( It doesn’t matter if those victims are allies or foes. I just don’t want to see that happen... )

( I don’t want Ayato-kun to do such a thing... )

ー Yui spots the Mukami’s in the distance

Yui: ( Huh? It’s Kou-kun and the others... )

Yuma: Once again! The fuck does that mean!? Then what about us...?

Kou: Shh! You talk way too loud, Yuma-kun?

Azusa: What did...Ruki say in his letter...?

Kou: Apparently the Church has decided that they will side with the Vibora...

Yui: ...!

Kou: So Ruki-kun wants us to abandon Eden at once and come join him in the human world.

Yuma: ...I didn’t see that one comin’...

Azusa: So that means...If we decide to stay here with the two of them...

We’ll have no other choice but to fight against Ruki...?

Yuma: That’s not happenin’!

Kou: But! You’re saying we should just abandon Ayato-kun and M-neko-chan then!?

And Eden as well...

Yuma: I mean...But...What do ya suggest we do then...?

Yui: ...

( The Church will assist the Vibora... )

( If that happens, Ruki-kun will not be our only enemy... )

( But Reiji-san and the other Sakamaki brothers as well... )

( I can’t let that happen, no matter what. For brothers to have to fight each other...That’s just too... )

( No matter who comes out victorious, I am sure that Ayato-kun will get hurt regardless...I have to do something... )

*Flip*

Yui: ( There is one way to prevent this fight, isn’t there...? )

( I didn’t mention this to the others but the final sentence of the letter... )

( If I do that, I might be able to stop the Vibora’s attack. But... )

( What should I do...? )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #leayatoecstasyprolog

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fangedjustice · 2 years

Note

🐺- A memory about being alone

Reader Warning: animal death

Fog was rolling down the mountainside, a damp blanket tugging slow but steady over pale, dry grasses and boulders. There weren't many trees in this area, but Lloyd had found a sturdy one to huddle against as he clutched Grå close to himself. It was cold and moisture was starting to sink into his shirt, his pants-- but he didn't want to go back home yet.

He'd seen his mother's thunderous expression, his father’s stubborn scowl. There would either be a furious fight to be had between them or a coldness that was becoming more and more familiar, like the expanding ice on a lake with the deepening of winter.

No, if he must do this, he wanted it to be as peaceful as possible. Grå deserved it.

—

Lloyd caught the reins of his father’s horse as the large man tossed them to him, ruffling his son’s hair as he pulled himself out of the saddle. He wasn’t big enough to handle removing the saddle himself, but he could get the powerful horse into his stall and give him a treat. However, before he could start to walk the animal towards the back of the house, his father stopped him with a low call.

“Hold on, son, I’ve got something for you,” Brendan said, a grin in his voice even not clearly on his face. He untied a wicker basket that had been hanging from off one side of the saddle, setting it down carefully in front of the boy. Kneeling down, he gives his son a meaningful look, “Now, before you can have what’s inside, I need your most solemn oath, boy.”

Lloyd’s gaze shifted from the basket to his father, curiosity over a rare gift winning out over his slight hesitation of what his father might ask of him. “Of course, father.”

“Good boy,” Brendan said, thick fingers working at the coarse tie that was keeping the lid of the basket in place. “I’ll need you to look after this for me, it’s very important. You’ll still need to do your chores, help your mother out when she needs it and keep up your training, but I think a friend would do you some good. It’ll be your responsibility, so you’d best learn this lesson well the first time, as it’ll be the only chance you get to do so safely.”

Lloyd didn’t understand what his father meant by that, and the question at the tip of his tongue was immediately forgotten when his father removed the wicker lid and reached a hand into the basket. When Brendan retracted his arm, Lloyd’s face cycled from surprise to pure joy when he saw long, soft ears and downy gray fur.

A rabbit. His father was giving him a rabbit.

He’d never asked for a pet before, nor had the thought of owning one ever really crossed his mind, but the boy was gentle as he took the little animal from his father’s rough hands. Its fur was just as soft against him as it had looked, and though he had to adjust his hold on it, the rabbit didn’t struggle. Its ears perked forward and its back legs twitched just a bit against his arm, but outside of that, it was calm.

“Think you can handle it?”

Lloyd smiled up at his father, his usually reserved nature fading into the background as he held the rabbit close to his chest. “Yes sir, I’ll do my best!” He didn’t know much about taking care of rabbits, but he was sure he could ask mother and get a good idea. He wanted to do this right, he wanted to make his father proud of him. He was going to be his father’s right hand man when he got older, so if his father was putting this sort of trust in him right now, Lloyd wanted to be found worthy of it now and in the future.

—

He named the rabbit Grå for her fur. It might not have been very creative, but it fit and she didn’t seem to mind. She was very even tempered. While not shy per se, she did keep to herself. She didn’t dart around or kick or bite. She would eat all her food, and did not object to handling or pets.

Lloyd and his mother had built a little hutch for the rabbit, so she got to sleep out of the cold with the horses. Lloyd kept up with his chores and things just as his father had asked, but when he had time to himself, he would bring Grå out into the sloping fields of flowers a little ways from their home and read. At first he’d been a little nervous to do so, thinking she might run off as soon as he set her down, but she merely wandered close by. She would nibble on the fresh grass and flowers, roll and kick up dirt when she found a good patch of it. He would sit in the grass with her and watch for a time before pulling out whatever book he’d lugged with him. Sometimes she would hop into his lap and nose at his clothes or at the pages of the book, other times, she would settle in a furry lump by his side with her feet kicked out.

She was quiet, patient company. And maybe he could have been spending his time playing with children his age in the village, but Lloyd thought this suited him more.

When the days got too cold, Lloyd would move Grå’s hutch into a corner inside the house; out of the way but warm.

His mother was encouraging and kind as he took to the care of the rabbit, helping him out when asked but mostly watching with a bright smile as Lloyd came out of his shell around the little creature. Brendan watched on with a much more stoic eye, proud of the work his boy was putting in but knowing that it would come to an ugly end no matter how well it was going in the moment.

It was an unfortunate lesson to have to learn, but if his boys were going to follow him into the mercenary world, they would both have to abide by it. Lloyd simply had the misfortune of being the elder son, and having to learn it first.

—

It had been a year since his father had gifted him Grå, and Lloyd’s friendship with the animal had only deepened in that time. The two were near and dear to each other, and Lloyd loved the rabbit as if it were any other part of his family.

“Lloyd, c’mere a moment. We need to have a talk,” Brendan called out gruffly, gesturing with a hand for the boy to finish up his current task and head over to him.

Lloyd grunted out an affirmative, rubbing his mother’s horse softly on the nose and giving her a few more solid brushes before setting his things down and joining his father just outside of the house. As soon as he was in front of his father, Lloyd could tell that something was…maybe not quite wrong, but…his father had a grim look about him. “...You needed me?” he broached tentatively, unsure.

Brendan nodded silently, taking a breath in through his nose before letting it out in a rush from his mouth. Lloyd tensed at the action, having learned years ago that this meant his father was going to tackle something he took no pleasure in, something serious and difficult. His father had sighed like this when handing off his newly born brother to him, his gaze lingering on the pallid form of his wife. It made the boy’s stomach flip, an uneasy prickling at the back of his neck as he stood there in front of his father with all the sturdiness his five six years could manage.

“You’re a big lad now, you know that?”

Lloyd didn’t feel it, shadowed by the man in front of him.

“You know the life of a mercenary, the life we Reeds have lived for generations, is no easy one.”

He knew it. He listened to his parents’ tales with careful attention. Remembered details they didn’t say out loud in front of their children, but spoke of in the late nights when sleep was not easy to grasp. They did hard work. They did hard work for a good reason, but that didn’t make it any less hard sometimes.

“Sometimes, you will fight side by side with a friend.”

Lloyd nodded along dumbly, mouth pressed tightly closed and teeth biting into the meat of his cheek as he tried to tamp down on the rising panic in his heart.

“But there may be times…where you will have to face a friend on opposite sides of the battlefield.”

He tasted blood.

—

Grå still did not struggle, even when Lloyd held onto her just a little too tight as they sat beneath the tree in the fog.

He knew what he had to do. His father had explained, had told him and shown him and given him his very own dagger with which to carry out the task. It wouldn’t hurt, his father had said; the rabbit wouldn’t know what was going on, he’d said.

But she knew something was wrong. Lloyd could feel her heart thumping against his own.

He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to do this.

After his father had spoken to him and explained how he was to complete this part of his training, Lloyd had gone to retrieve Grå from her little hutch as if he were floating outside of his own body and someone else was in control. He’d said something to his father as he carried her out, perhaps something to the effect of going somewhere private, but Lloyd couldn’t recall what words, if any, had actually left his mouth.

He’d thought of letting Grå go, somewhere out on the mountainside where she could be free and live. But she would not leave him if he did, and what if she could not survive on her own now, because he had been taking care of her? What if a bird got her? Or a wolf? Would that be worse than this? Would she hurt before it was over? Would she be afraid?

Besides, any lie he would have been able to muster up to his father would have easily been found out. Desperation almost made him go seek out another wild rabbit as substitute, but the lesson would not have been learned and the guilt of taking a still just as innocent life would sit in his throat and choke him all the same.

And, shamefully, for as much as Lloyd did not want to do this, he wanted to have his father’s pride and trust.

Lloyd’s breath hitched, tears burning in his eyes as he buried his face into Grå’s soft side, not even caring that her fur got in his mouth as he sucked in short, shallow gulps of air.

One hand clutched desperately at her cloudy fur. The other grasped blindly for the simple dagger that his father had given him, dropped somewhere off to his side in the brittle grass beneath the tree.

“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry,” he chanted under his breath, fingers slipping against the hilt of the dagger from a sweaty palm, his face hot and flushed and wet with tears.

The rabbit’s nose twitched, but she did not struggle. She was even tempered. She was quiet, patient company.

He cried and whispered into her damp fur, red blooming against soft gray, and he sat alone beneath that tree as the fog inched silently down the mountain.

#[ answered ask ]

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clairecrive · 3 years

Note

Heyy:) can you write Nikolai x tidemaker reader, while Nikolai is still Sturmhond and the reader is part of the crew. Nikolai fell in love at first sight but the reader is a little introvert, but she snaps one day and confesses her love to him.

Sorry English isn’t my first language:)

Stars in the night

a/n: Hi hun sorry for the long wait. it's a bit shitty but I hope you're still around and like this x

warnings: none, fluff

word count: 2.8K

tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @pansysgirlfriend, @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep , @lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl,@gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis, @carnationworld, @thanossexual, @luvxginger, @sanna2020, @partiesandblurrypolaroids, @edithsvoice, @wafflesandschemingfaces, @snugleo, @sugarmelonwater (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

Nights were usually y/n’s favourite time of the day. Chaos and shouts left place to eerie silence and the comforting quietness of the stars. Being on a ship meant always having people around whether they were shouting or singing or playing or whatever.

Y/n didn’t mind their company per se, it’s just that sometimes, people’s presence can get too much. But whenever she felt overwhelmed, she knew she could count on the stars to anchor her and help her breathe.

After an exhausting day at sea, no one refused the possibility to sleep and recharge. So, more often than not, y/n didn’t have any trouble in taking the night shift. It actually made her even more popular with the rest of the crew.

The crew’s captain was another thing. Y/n hadn’t a precise idea on him simply because he was always up to something. Sitting still was not in his blood, even where there were no chores to attend to. If there wasn’t something to do, Sturmhond would create it.

He was such at antipodes with y/n’s personality that their interactions were limited to her assignments, her report after her shift or him updating her about his plans. Or rather- her role in them. Y/n wasn’t foolish enough to think that he really made her part of his plans. And to be fair, y/n never asked more than what directly concerned her. Maybe that was why Sturmhond was so interested in her.

There was nothing subtle about the man. From the way he walked like he owned the world, to his shiny red hair. So, when he unusually started to roam around her just because, y/n did notice. Hell, everyone on the ship noticed. It was hard not to in such a limited space.

However, y/n thought nothing of it. It was just him being his extravagant self. Nothing new, honestly. She did not mind it either. The man had a way of being there without being overbearing, which was more than y/n could say about any other men she had met. Well, all except Tolya, of course.

He had started by bidding her good morning and goodnight every day. Then he would come to find her throughout the day, to chitchat above all things. To y/n’s horror, the privateer didn’t desist. He kept coming and y/n honestly didn’t know how to react.

She had always found him quite handsome and charming, but there was something she was absolutely shit at: small talk. And the man wanted exactly that from her. Alas, it all ended up with Sturmond’s voice filling the awkward pauses and y/n barely answering his questions.

She knew in her heart that she was giving him the wrong impression and she feared that her awkwardness would be mistaken for coldness making him eventually desist. Despite her fears though, the man didn’t seem off-put by her behaviour. He kept coming and coming but that didn’t ease y/n in any capacity.

Then one night, he stopped beating around the bush. It didn’t exactly catch her by surprise, y/n knew him, it was only a matter of time before he came out with it. It wasn’t in his nature to be discreet. Or so she thought, based on what she saw.

“Why did you want to be part of my crew? You don’t seem to like me,” he wondered, his green eyes shining in the moonlight.

Despite the words that left his mouth, y/n knew what his question implied. What he was really asking. But however powerful she might be, y/n didn’t have the guts to be upfront with him. Not even with the comforting presence of the stars as their witnesses.

If only he knew.

She knew that this could potentially be a chance for her to test the waters, to see what his intentions were and to make her clear. But alas, she knew nothing about flirting. Deflecting it is, then.

“Tolya and Tamar trust you. I trust them with my life so,” she shrugged, tacitly implying that she somewhat trusted him too.

“I see. So not only do I owe them my life but also an incredible crew.”

“The big and mighty Sturmhond praising someone other than himself?”

“I only sing praise when they’re due.”

“And, of course, no one deserves it more than yourself.”

“Well, you said it darling.” He flashed her a dazzling smile that made the moonlight pale.

Y/n rolled her eyes a bit to convey her annoyance and a bit to avoid him seeing the blush rising on her cheeks.

Truth be told, Tolya and Tamar weren’t the only ones that persuaded her from becoming a part of his crew albeit they were a big part of it. She wasn’t lying when she told him that she trusted them with her life. If it wasn’t for them, y/n would probably be a soulless machine right now. Her body on the outside but really nothing that made her y/n on the inside. That’s what happened to Grisha in Shu Han.

She owed the twin everything but that wasn’t why she made the decision to join them on the Volkovny. They didn’t force her to follow them or anything. And y/n couldn’t deny that Sturmhond’s handsome face didn’t make her sway a little in her decision. That was, however, something slippery about the privateer. It didn’t make him untrustworthy per se, but it certainly made her wary about trusting him.

The biggest push that prompted her to the Volkovny and life on the sea was her experience in Shu Han. Being Grisha meant not having a safe place outside of Ravka and sometimes in Ravka as well. Her home country was war-torn and as much as y/n had been trained to be a soldier all her life, she didn’t feel ready to take part in a fight that she didn’t feel her own.

Despite his unorthodox methods, General Kirigan’s sole purpose had always been making Grisha safe. And seeing as she had seen first-hand how the world treated Grisha, y/n could really get behind his plot, not caring about how bloody it was.

Life on the sea meant no more persecutors. Outside of her crew, no one in the ports they sailed to knew she was Grisha. Not that she was ashamed of who she was, but it’d be like having a mark on her skin if people knew. A mark that made her unsafe. She craved a life where she didn’t have to constantly watch her back. And being on the Volkovny granted her wish.

Not that it was a safe lifestyle, of course. But y/n was a survivor. If she had come out of the keirgud alive, she could well out best every threat that she will eventually cross on the sea. Besides, she knew that the twins had her back. And, in a small percentage, so did Sturmhond.

She and the captain didn’t exactly have a relationship, not like the twins have. She wasn’t his confidante or anything and she preferred to spend her time on her own -as much as life on deck allowed her- but since she was such in close quarters with the twins, that definitely made her closer to him than the rest of the crew. Not to mention that now the captain had started spending his nights with her too.

Well, not all night and not every night but it was a substantial increase in his time spent with her. Sure, it was all parts of him doing his rounds at night and being his amiable self.

So why the hell did her breath hitch whenever she caught his silhouette approaching? She hated herself for feeling like this. And him. Only that she didn’t, not really. It wasn’t his fault, was it? It was just her being silly. It’ll pass, sooner or later.

Only that, of course, it didn’t. In fact, it got even worse. If before she could manage their interaction by playing aloof and uninterested, it has now come to the point where she almost blubbered. Her heart hated her, it’d beat frantically whenever he’d approach, and his intoxicating smell made it impossible to form a coherent thought.

So, y/n decided to just stay clear of him to prevent any embarrassing situation.

After that, things didn’t get weird per se. Seeing y/n alone and drifting away from most group gatherings wasn’t weird. What was though, was her absence during the night shifts.

Before she monopolized those shifts, now she took turns like everyone else.

That was the big spy that made everyone worry about her. Non though went to talk to her about it. It would have been too personal for most of the crew to ask, and those who didn’t think better of it.

The twins knew her very well, she’d come to them whenever she was ready.

The captain… well, he didn’t react at all, which made y/n think that he hadn’t noticed anything.

He very well did, though. And the sign that he did was that he hadn’t come to her anymore. He noticed her withdrawal and while he didn’t understand why he respected her decision.

That didn’t mean that he gave up on her entirely though. His research moved elsewhere; his tactic shifted from approach to observe.

It took him almost a week to be feed with this new tactic. Not only did it prove unsuccessful, but he had almost broken a limb or two in his spying attempts.

One night, the one when he knew that you had taken the shift, he shifted again to ”approach”.

“Lovely night, eh?” He grimaced as the words left his mouth. Lamest approach ever.

“Oh, captain,” y/n exclaimed, startled by his unexpected presence, “yes, indeed.” She agreed, turning back to rest her arms over the bannister.

Nikolai’s eyes shine with amusement and y/n grimaced, cloaked in the darkness of the night, she was torn between wanting to punch herself or him. Maybe both.

“Sorry for startling you. I was surprised to see you here.”

“I’m on the night shift today,” she explained even though it wasn’t needed but saints. If they had given her social skills, she would have been too powerful.

“I see. It does not happen as often,” his eyes roamed over to her face, he could only see the side facing him thanks to the moonlight.

Y/n knew what he was doing, the man was hardly subtle, but she appreciated his attempt of breaching the subject lightly.

“We all took turns; it wasn’t fair for me to hijack this time shift.”

“I’m far too smart for you to lie to my face,”

“Excuse me?”

“What I mean to say,” he sighed, regret showing on his face, “is that I worry that you might have changed your habits because of me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“It has not escaped my notice that you’ve trying to avoid me.”

“Avoiding someone on a ship is an impossible feat.”

“I’m aware,” he smirked, and something told her that seeing her trying to do exactly that amused him to no end. Y/n turned back towards to sea and said nothing. Better silence than pointless words.

“So,” it was Sturmhond who broke the silence, “want to tell me what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, captain.”

“Again with lying,” he chided softly. Sturmond knew y/n like the back of his hand. Being on a ship will do that. He knew then that the best way to approach her wasn’t to put her under the spotlight or in a corner.

She sighed, knowing that lying to him would not get her out of this situation. Trying to muster her courage, she turned to him.

“Alright, you’re right,” she conceded and that alone was telling since Sturmonhd’s ego didn’t need any stroking. “You haven’t done anything wrong, though. It’s me.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You should because it’s true. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by my emotions and I don’t know how to deal with them.”

“So, you just run from the situation?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it running,” she mumbled under her breath. His intense stare put her even more on edge.

“Isn’t that point of living, though?” he added softly, “Feeling?”

“Maybe.”

“Amazing,” he said with an edge to his voice.

“What?” Y/n’s eyes flickered to him and the expression on his face left her wondering if he was serious or making fun of her.

“I’ve seen you facing volcras and other enemies straight on with a courage that puts to shame many soldiers and yet this is what you’re afraid of?”

“Rejections is much scarier than combat.” Abandoning every attempt of pretence, y/n went with the truth. She was already in the game, now she had no choice but to play.

“Is it?” His brow raised and now there was no doubt that he was making fun of her.

“If something goes bad in a battle, I’m dead. And there’s nothing for me to worry about if that happens, right?”

“But putting myself out there and then getting rejected, means living with the shame and embarrassment of knowing that I’m not enough.”

“Well, that’s a rather tragic take on it.”

“Joke all you want. I don’t suppose you know what it feels like, giving your shining hair and dazzling smile.”

“While knowing you think that of me brings me immense joy, I would also like to point out that you’re wrong.”

Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrow in wonder.

“Rejection takes a whole other shade of intensity when it comes from your family.” The words were said lightly but they made her breath get caught in her throat anyway.

“Is it because of your lifestyle?”

“It’s because of their opinion of me that I’ve chosen this lifestyle.”

“I’m sorry that your family is unable to see how much you shine.” “Maybe it’s because you’ve blinded them?” She tried to ease the tension and she was rewarded with a tease of a smile.

“Oh, don’t point it at me! I will lose my eyes and then you’ll throw me from this ship,” she shrieked and went to shield her eyes as if she was under the midday sun. This foolish stunt earned her the captain’s laugh. One so full and rich that left no doubt of its authenticity. It made y/n smile too and wish that he’d do that more often.

“I would never throw you from this ship.”

“What use could I have with no eyes?”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to find you something else to do.”

“Like being the ship’s clown.”

“While you amuse me to no end, I was thinking about a far more private role.”

“Private as in?”

“Meant for my eyes only.”

“Selfish much?”

“When it comes to you? Shamelessly so.”

The privateer leaned down to her, agonizingly slow giving her all the time to pull away if she wanted to. A million things swirled through her mind in those few seconds. Every worry about what was going to happen, about all the ways this could go sour.

The wheels in her mind turned incredibly fast almost making her lightheaded. Before this could turn into a full session of overthinking though, y/n shook her head effectively stopping the thoughts from growing.

Despite her lacking in basic social skills in an incredibly sad way, conversation with him always flowed easily. She never worried about what she was supposed to do or say or whatever. She could just… be. Be y/n.

That was priceless if not rare. And right then and there she decided that she wasn’t willing to lose it. Not without fighting.

Borne from the spur of the moment the best decision she could ever make, she leaned into him as well. Closing her eyes, she was able to see the corner of his lips lifted a little before she felt his lips on him.

Saints.

Did she say that she was afraid of feeling? Fuck that. This feeling, the feel of the touch of his lips on her, his fingers lightly stroking her face, his breath inside her, him becoming a part of her? She was pretty sure was going to die if she went too long without it.

Angling his head to the side, she pressed her lips on his with renowned fervour. Her hands found their way in his strands. A moan left him as y/n swallowed the sound. Using the grip on his hair, y/n pulled him to her. Sturmond gladly followed her lead, returning the intensity of the kiss before his hands gripped the back of her knees, lifting her up.

He lightly used the bannister as leverage, his grip shifting to her hips holding her so tightly so that losing her was not an option. Not now, not ever.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai reader x grisha reader #grishaverse #nikolai lanstov imagine #nikolai lanstov imagines #nikolai lastov fluff #nikolai lanstov angst #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai lanstov fic #shadow and bone

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yabai-korra · 3 years

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The reasons why we're getting Manorian book

There has been a lot of speculation whether SJM is going to favor us with book/novella about Manon Blackbeak and Dorian Havilliard, recently I saw some fans doubting it, so here's a list of logical reasons why it's happening.

1. It's SJM

This woman writes two 500+ pages books per year, for her it would be a piece of cake.

2. There have already been books focused on side characters

a) Chaol and Yrene - Chaol was one of the most unpopular characters before Tower of Dawn (which made me love him hehe) and she still wrote a 600+ pages long book about him, just imagine what she'd do with the most popular character (Manon) and one of the most popular ones (Dorian).

b) Nesta and Cassian - this is ship is the closest to Manorian equivalent in ACOTAR series, aka starting from a physical relationship that develops into a sentimental one. Also 6th ACOTAR book will be focused on a new characters (most probably Elain)

3. Favoritism

SJM has talked multiple times about her love for these two. When asked about her favorite TOG character, she said Aelin, but Manon was a close second place and she said that she absolutely loves writing her.

In another interview, when asked who she would go on a book tour with and a few similar questions, she answered Dorian.

Now, I haven't seen all of her interviews ever and I'm not sure how much she loves Nessian and Cahorene (seems to love Nessian a hella lot tho), but it's definite that Manorian are some of her favorite characters and it's just logical that she would write about them.

4. Unfinished story/Unresolved feelings

Ships at the end of TOG:

Rowaelin - married

Elorcan - engaged

Lysaedion - engaged

Chaorene - married with a baby on the way

Nestaq - engaged

Manorian - hug and "we'll see"

All the ships basically got engaged in the last chapter (it's not like I didn't like it hehe) and their stories, romantic-wise, were pretty much finished and they have no unresolved tension between them. Manorian on the other hand, have enough of it for all the ships lol.

KOA spoilers ahead!

Keep in mind, Manorian relationship was mostly a sexual one, and they don't quite yet have a way of communicating their feelings properly. So there is a lot of unaddressed between them, even though they obviously care a lot about each other.

The unresolved things between Manon and Dorian:

"“And if I asked you to stay?” / “I’d need a very convincing reason, I suppose.” / “Because I don’t want you to go.” - they just fucked and Dorian left for Morath later, which impacted Manon a lot but they haven't discussed it

"I even care about you." - Manon got up and left

"There is only one witch who will be my queen." - Manon doesn't know about this

Manon saved Dorian from Valg demon even when Aelin couldn't. It was the worst thing to happen to Dorian and he still bears scars from it, yet he didn't have an appropriate situation to thank Manon for it

Dorian knows that Erawan lusted after Manon, which got him pissed of course, and he didn't have a chance nor time to ask Manon about it. It might be nothing, but if I were Dorain and my girlfriend who doesn't show feelings was locked up with a crazy guy who has a thing for her, and have seen the way he treats women, I'd be concerned. Erawan was a Valg king, a tough opponent even for Manon. If he had done something to her, and he had plenty of means and opportunities and wish to do so, Manon would never openly tell anyone (maybe Asterin) about it, because it would imply opening up and being weak, which is Manon's worst fear. Again, SJM, as the Queen of Foreshadowing, wouldn't just randomly throw in the main villain having a thing for an important character, everything in her books always has a meaning and purpose.

"Would you miss me if I didn't [come back]?" - Manon didn't reply

This is how SJM described Manorian marriage: "She would be his wife, his queen. She was already his equal, his match, mirror in so many ways. And with their union, the world would know it." - and you're telling me it's not deserving of its own book? Not just that, Manon asked Dorian for marriage and they, again, just had sex, with Dorian loving the idea but deep down knowing that Manon would feel caged in a marriage. And that attitude won't just change out of the blue. It takes time and development which is something SJM writes amazingly.

With the Thirteen gone, beside Abraxos Dorian is the only creature Manon cares about.

Dorian's mortality (although as you'll see in point #6 I'm sure he's not human)

The dreaded "You could just marry each other." / "We'll see." (Thanks Yrene :)

5. Foreshadowing

Listen here, SJM IS THE QUEEN OF FORESHADOWING. She thought of a detail (Dorian's dad's name) in the first book that would matter in the last book. Of course, there are many many many more examples of that, but if we got "We'll see." then we'll fucking see it happen.

6. Unresolved things about Manon and Dorian as individual characters.

Manon and Dorian and both pretty broken at the end of KOA.

Manon lost the Thirteen, the only people she cared about. That is a huge trauma that needs to be addressed, especially with someone so reluctant to show feelings and heal like Manon.

Dorian can't be human?? He has fae abilities due to his relation to Gavin and Elena even though he's not even called a demi-fae. He possesses powers no one else does, phantom hands for example, which he didn't steal like shape-shifting. And Maeve pointed out that due to his father being possessed by Valg when Dorian was sired, it's possible he got some of the Valg abilities. (Also she said that he's stronger than Aelin) The main villain, especially written by Queen of Foreshadowing, wouldn't just let drop it there and that's it. Also not to mention Dorian's own struggle with depression and self-worth.

They have both just become rulers of their kingdoms, completely new to it. Dorian has spent a big part of KOA imagining what kind of a king he wants to be (one that will have a witch queen hehe) and it was a major point of his character. And addition to that affecting them as characters, the future of Adarlan and Witch Kingdom could make a good plotline.

7. Other TOG characters

Although pretty much all the readers would die to see Chaorene baby, Lorcan in Perranth, Aelin and Rowan ruling Terrasen, Lysandra and Adeion officially adopting Evangeline, Nesryn and Sartaq becoming Khagan and Empress of Antica, all of these don't make enough of a plot on its own. They are great side-plots.

We know all of these characters love each other and are happy together, there isn't that much to be added to their personal stories other than kids. (same way Feyre and Rhys got a baby in Nessian book) Manorian however, they haven't even kissed without it leading to sex, they hugged at the end of KOA and it was the pique of their relationship. Their relationship is merely at the beginning, whereas others have pretty much reached their ultimatum (ofc SJM can decide to add some drama with betrayal, kidnapping, pregnancy etc. but for now everyone is good and settled beside Manorian)

Not to mention the way other relationships would affect them. Chaol, Dorian's brother, and Yrene, Manon's wannabe bestie and Manorian shipper, would bring their baby to meet his/her uncle Dorian and aunt Manon, and imagine Manon with a baby lol.

SJM loves Aelin and other characters way too much not to give us an insight on them as married couples, but since her books are huge and it's her, it needs a plot with drama, addressing traumas, repressed feelings, worldbuilding, and sex, and Manorian's got all of that.

8. Abraxos

We need more Abraxos, that's just a fact.

Wow that was a long one. Anyways, in conclusion, we're getting that Manorian book. Pretty sure it's gonna a book rather than a novella (TOD was also planned as a novella but then guess what) because there is just SO MUCH possible content.

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madametrashbin · 3 years

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Blissful Relief

Modern Day life is stressful (no one can tell me otherwise), and as someone who will practically deflate upon suddenly having nothing to do and nothing important going on in the future (because being isekai'd means all regular world plans for life are cancelled), I will not hesitate to sleep like the dead because I'm not on a tight schedule now.

(Two posts in a Day?? What have I become?!)

A.K.A, I make an excuse to write a Lazy Nocturnal God!Darling who will abuse the cult pampering system... because that is what I would do without hesitation when I’m free from Modern Day duties that eat away at my health and sanity bit by bit with every hour I spend working like a mindless zombie from dawn to dusk, juggling home life that is filled with bothersome troubles that never change.

I’m also a night owl, caused by both insomnia and because it is the quietest hour that I cannot help but want to relish in since my life is filled with so much loud noise it gives me daily migraines... but of course, habits are formed from repetition and I will always wake up at 4-6am like a dumbass thus suffer the consequences the next morning.

Uhh... and I guess there might be OOC stuff?? Characterization who? Also Self-Indulgent again?? Super Self-Indulgent??? Letmeenjoysleepingandbeinganocturnalcreatureplease--

Morning tends to consist of Zhongli coming into your room, leaving the tray of breakfast he prepared on the coffee table near the sofa in your room before he walks over to kneel beside the bed where you're happily dozing off on, a hand moving to gently rest on the small of your back to rub small circles with his thumb. He’s softly smiling the whole time, looking at you with such adoration and fondness with how relaxed you were. As much as he wants to let you sleep in, he knows what would happen if a mortal body doesn’t move that much on a daily basis.

He'll try get you to wake up without being too loud, and if you ask for affection (kisses in particular, because I’m an affection and touch starved bastard), he will give it to you without hesitation and pepper your face in adoring kisses before carrying you off to the sofa so you could eat. He will feed you himself if you’re still too sluggish.

Will also put you in his lap if you’re nodding off, mostly to prevent you from hurting yourself (and because he enjoys the close proximity, if you allow it).

On rare occasions, Childe will be the one to wake you up in the morning instead whenever Zhongli is busy, letting you snuggle in bed a while longer if you want a few extra minutes before smothering you in his affections as he whisks you off from bed to get ready for the day and drop you off in the kitchen where breakfast is waiting on the table.

He will feed you himself if you're still drowsy, looking at you while cooing as though you are the most precious little thing this world has ever given life to (and to be fair, you are the most precious person to him with his family).

Will give you more cheek kisses if you’re still half-asleep, or in-between spoonfuls as a way to let you know you’re doing great... and because why not. It’s a rare moment to have, since Zhongli does hog a lot of your time.

Noon/Afternoon usually has Venti to keep watch over you if you ever choose to nap somewhere random around the teapot outdoors, or somewhere out in the wilds of Teyvat where the weather is just right and the surroundings are generally quiet. If you were outside of the teapot, you’d also have either Kaeya, Xiao or Kazuha to accompany the two of you depending on where you are for extra protection (per Zhongli’s safety precaution).

Venti will hum a song, and maybe strum a calming tune while you nap, happily basking in the gentle breeze and warm sunlight as the day goes by in a very peaceful and quiet manner. If lunch time comes around, he’ll try to wake you up as gently as possible, but finds it difficult to disturb you when you look so comfortable and peaceful right now. (And usually, this has you missing out on lunch if Zhongli is too busy to check up on you. Don't worry though, he'll make sure the packed lunch is empty before the old man drops by and that you did eat something.)

Kaeya will take the chance to cuddle with you, usually keeping you between his legs while you're using his chest as a pillow as your head is tucked in the crook of his neck. He's going to keep a loose hold on you, arms wrapped around your waist while occasionally shifting in case you're uncomfortable. He's smiling the whole time because you're so cute when you sleep like this. (Will occasionally give you kisses on the crown of your head if you don't mind it. Man wants to spoil you with so much love if you allow him to.)

Xiao is 100% attentive to all things in the surrounding, wanting to keep you safe from all potential dangers and will not relax while you're in such a vulnerable state. He will, however, melt when you sleepily call for his name while lazily reaching for him in such a lazy, but cute manner. Just like that, he's right by your side, asking for whatever you need. He's still on guard, but whatever you need, he will be there to provide... kisses and snuggles included, even if he’s struggling to be open about it.

Kazuha would be smiling serenely, occasionally brushing the hair off your face if it gets in the way of giving you proper sleep. He would take care of problems that may arise before it reaches you, and if you ever have trouble trying to be comfortable, he’ll let you lay your head on his lap while he gently pets your head in such a soothing manner that the nap turns into full on sleep... his legs might go numb, but he just couldn’t wake you up when you looked so peaceful sleeping right there.

Sayu will always accompany you when you’re in Inazuma, mostly because she could find an excuse to sleep with you around when you are getting ready to nap. She’ll be quick to defend you though, because if you get hurt, she’ll lose that excuse and she’ll struggle to find peace to sleep for a while without having people tailing after her.

Dusk/Evening you’re decently awake (or rather, barely awake), Zhongli’s not letting you sleep anymore until later into the night. Ei would keep you company, the time when it’s not so busy for her as things settle down and allow her to spend time with you. She’s honestly just internally squealing when you end up holding onto her hand or sleeve if you’re too groggy to walk by yourself and properly guide your own feet.

Sometimes the Kamisato Clan would be the ones to accompany you, per Ei/Raiden Shogun’s orders. Ayaka used to be on-guard (because how did someone who was barely standing on their own two feet turn the Raiden Shogun into some excitable puppy??) when she first met you, but she got over it after realizing you’re not a bad person after spending enough time with you to see it.

Thoma sometimes coddles you, knowing well enough that you were just tired from the stress of the daily life you used to have when you told him once during a day when he was left to take care of you... He does his best to make sure you were enjoying yourself in the city, keeping a watchful eye in case you’d trip on your own feet.

On rare occasions when even the Kamisato Clan is busy, Kujou Sara would be the one to care for you... as foreign as it was in the beginning, because you’re so idle and pretty sluggish most of the time, but she grew to find these times relaxing. Of course, she is ever watchful for all problems, and when you were awake enough, would be helpful with your foreknowledge if you do remember everything well enough.

When Night falls upon Teyvat, you are fully awake, if only for a while until you grow exhausted again. In these moments, they would all try to spend time with you and gain more of your attention... but aside from that, you would often take strolls on Watatsumi Island, if only because you do sincerely enjoy the scenery the island had during the night... but other times, you would either take a stroll at Starsnatch Cliff or Qingce Village.

Kokomi would be with you, walking alongside you while she admires the sight of your relaxed, fully awake expressions that mostly appears at night. She would keep each of these moments to her heart, knowing that if her God loved Watatsumi as it is, then all her efforts into protecting it was worth it... plus, there was something nice just knowing a God like you enjoying the natural sight of her home while taking a nightly stroll.

Gorou trails behind you like a puppy, basking in the attention you give him and will always be ready to defend you. When you talk, he is absolutely silent, wanting to hear your voice in its more clearer form. He will not be happy if someone interrupts you, definitely will snarl at them if you don’t keep him in check... but aside from that, he will stick close to your side while you’re at Watatsumi Island as your guard with Kokomi.

Diluc will be by your side during the night when you’re in Mondstadt, always looking away when your gaze is directed towards him but otherwise would observe you closely... since he often sees you when you weren’t fully awake. He enjoys seeing this side of you more, and while he does find your sleepy self to be adorable, he likes knowing that you’re aware of everything... It gives him a peace of mind when you do acknowledge his efforts.

Midnight rings clear into the night, the clarity of your mind would return into its sleepy state. You would return back to the Teapot and get ready for bed, tucked in comfortably by one of your acolytes before you slumber until morning rises once more and repeat your day... Sometimes, if you’ve relaxed enough, you might be fully awake for the whole day.

Of course, that is a rare moment that might not always happen, but if you were truly awake for a whole day, none of your acolytes are going to miss this chance and might fight to have your full attention if you don’t give them the satisfactory amount, unless you put your foot down and make sure they behave.

Aside from that, your cult will always be there for you, ready to take care of you and give you all the affection you want.

#self aware genshin #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #I don't know how to self-care #I'll just give myself this and share it to everyone #*wheezes from stress*#I should sleep #but brain got 50+ ideas #skjsksjksjskj #I had this in my drafts since the Greeting post lmao #Finally done with this #Even if I don't really like how it ended #But brain is dead so this is all I can do for now #Not going to revise this

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sunder-soul · 3 years

Text

PROMPT 1: Hellooooooo! First off ur writing goes off, second off listen to this idea that i truly think u can bring to life... reader n tom r in a relationship and someone tried to slip tom to love potion but ofc he doesn't fall for it and his gf is like ??? and then they rub their relationship in her face LOL. anyways no worried just thought this would slap! Admire u n ur work!!

PROMPT 2: hey i love your the last of your rules series and everything else you’ve written. i’m not very creative so idk what exactly i’m looking for plot wise i just trust you since everything you’ve written is good but i was wondering if maybe you could write a tom x ravenclaw reader please. the ravenclaw reader tends to be more emotionally reserved and isn’t big on physical affection and maybe tom finds that interesting in a way? idk this idea might suck but felt like asking anyways...

Decided to combine these two because I could see them working really well together… :D

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Retribution

Summary: After somebody tries to slip Tom a love potion to break up him and Ravenclaw Reader’s relationship, they get a little bit theatrical in response...

Wordcount: 1.8k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Good morning,” says Tom evenly, lifting a wide-brimmed cup to his lips and taking an even sip as he looks at you.

“Is it?” you say dryly, sitting down opposite him at the Slytherin table and pulling out the new Magical Theory textbook. “Have you looked over this yet?”

“I have,” Tom replies with a very small smile. “Not to your liking?”

“Sophus writes like it’s still the seventeenth century,” you say with a shake of your head, “which isn’t surprising considering I don’t think he included a single reference from the last two hundred years… I mean honestly –” you wave at the title on the front of the book, “– ‘Corpus Magikus?’ Even the title makes it sound ancient.”

“Did you have any criticisms about the actual content per chance?” Tom asks as he lifts his tea again – though it doesn’t quite hide the amused smile on his lips. “Or did you not manage to get past the articulation?”

You give him a look. “The articulation is just as important as the content.”

“I completely disagree,” he replies easily, his cup clinking as he rests it back on its saucer, “regardless of how it is written, his points are extremely sophisticated.”

“I’m not talking about the quality of his points, I’m talking about how well he makes them accessible,” you say at once, picking up a piece of toast and buttering it lightly, “he can have the best criticisms of Magical Theory in the world and no one will care if they can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Tom arches a brow and leans forward on the table, resting on his forearms. “You’re placing the responsibility of understanding an argument on the person presenting it, and not the person receiving it,” he says fluidly, “personally when I find something difficult to understand, I take it as an indicator that I need to return to the topic after better preparing myself.”

“That works fine as an individualistic perspective,” you reply at once, leaning forward to match him, “but a book isn’t written for an individual, is it? It’s written for an audience. A book like this is measured by how wide an audience it can reach, meaning the responsibility is half on him to write accessibly, and half on the audience to go away and fill the holes in our own understanding. That’s when information is dispersed most effectively.”

“Your priority is the dispersion of information as a whole and not the expansion of your personal field of knowledge, and that is the crux of our differing opinion,” Tom says, sitting up straighter and tilting his head calmly.

“I am very aware,” you say dryly, “but you shouldn’t dismiss the importance of charisma when it comes to spreading information. After all, academics aren’t exactly known to be the most charismatic people most of the time, so you end up with intelligent, useful tomes that are utterly incomprehensible to most people –” you nod at the text again, “whilst compelling idiotic drivel is widely consumed.”

The Daily Prophet lands with a thump on your breakfast plate as the delivery owl swoops away with a mournful hoot, and you share a pointed, very wry look with Tom.

Tom breathes a little laugh and laces his fingers around his cup. “So you’re not looking forward to Magical Theory, then.”

“I am,” you amend, frowning, “I just hope the class follows more like Waffling’s work than this.”

“Of course you like Waffling,” Tom smirks, lifting his cup, “he effectively writes in verse –”

Tom suddenly freezes, his brow furrowing lightly. You raise a brow at his sudden reaction. “What?”

He looks down at his tea, still frowning.

“Tom?” you prompt, bemused.

“Someone has attempted to drug me,” he says in complete seriousness, looking up at you.

You stare back, bewildered. “Is… is this more Tom humour?” you ask after a moment, “you seriously need more practice at making jokes, Tom, you really are terrible at it –”

“I’m not joking,” Tom interrupts crisply.

Your scrutiny drops to the cup in his hand. “How can you tell?”

“My tea smells like you.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?”

“My tea,” he repeats evenly, his dark eyes coming alight with a flicker of amusement as he leans closer, his cup still in one hand, “rather suddenly smells like you. I can only assume someone has managed to slip Amortentia into my cup sometime during this conversation.”

You blink at him. “Oh,” you say simply.

Tom’s lips curve into a more defined smirk at your expression.

“Well who’s trying to drug you then?” you ask quickly, looking away.

“An excellent question,” he says silkily, eyes still on you. “Their motive is hardly a mystery, so that should narrow it down.”

You roll your eyes and level him with a flat look. “Nothing could narrow it down less, Tom,” you drawl, “half the school is in love with you, and the other half is in denial about being in love with you.”

Tom arches a brow and looks very pleased with himself. “Should I drink it and we can find out?” he asks in amusement, lifting the cup.

You huff a laugh and take a bite of your toast. “Go on then, but don’t expect any sympathy from me when you’re pouring your heart out to some random stranger in front of the whole school a minute from now.”

His hand freezes with the rim of his cup an inch from his mouth, amusement faltering.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk. “If you want to play it that way you’re going to have to be smarter than that.”

“Oh?” he asks, dark eyes narrowing. “And what would you suggest?”

“If someone drugged you during this conversation then they’re probably watching for your reaction,” you say casually around bites of your toast, “so just look out for someone who’s waiting for you to dramatically break up with me.”

“According to you, that would be the entire school,” Tom mutters, looking significantly more disgruntled than before.

A grin slowly builds on your face. “That was nearly a real joke, Tom,” you say ironically, “Merlin you’ve come so far…”

He shoots you a flat glare and you snicker. “Alright, sorry, I’ll stop – look, if I storm out of here looking upset and you act all conflicted and brooding for the rest of the day, whoever it was will probably try to come talk to you.”

“How theatrical,” Tom deadpans.

You shrug. “Do you want to know who drugged you or not?”

His eyes remain on yours for a moment, and then he lifts the tea to his lips. You watch him pretend to drink, your eyes lingering on the tea glistening on his lips as he lowers the cup.

“Don’t lick your lips,” you say quietly, not quite able to look away.

Tom’s other hand shifts slightly where it’s resting on the table between you, and the tea vanishes both from his lips and the cup. You give him another dry look. “Show off,” you accuse, smiling, “wandless and non-verbal, huh?”

“If you ask nicely, I’ll teach you how to do it,” he smirks.

You huff a laugh and slide Corpus Magikus back into your bag. “I should make my dramatic exit soon,” you say casually, finishing your toast and looking around the hall absently. “Perhaps we should have a fight first.”

“That would make it more convincing, yes,” he says delicately, still looking amused.

“What shall we fight about?"

Tom’s expression immediately cools and he leans in so close that you can see the patterns in his dark irises. “The content doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, a glimmer in his eyes despite his utterly blank expression, “rather, the articulation.”

You hold his gaze for a second, fighting the urge to smile. You force yourself to stand suddenly, as if he’s said something of great offence. “I’ve never seen you so quickly converted to my opinion, Tom,” you say icily, leaning down to him over the table and hoping it looks like you’re angry.

“You made your argument very convincingly,” Tom says immediately, lifting his chin coolly.

“Actively demonstrating my point, I suppose,” you snap, standing straight. “I’m going to storm out now.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he says dismissively, pouring himself more tea.

You turn on your heel and leave, ignoring the curious eyes following you on your way out and not letting the smile break on your face until you’re well outside the Hall. Now all you have to do is wait.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Amelia Staghart,” Tom says in your ear before swiftly sitting down next to you in Potions that afternoon.

You raise a brow at him, watching as he arranges his Potions kit on the desk – Staghart is sitting a few desks behind you at that very moment and can most definitely see the both of you. “Are we no longer having a fight?”

“I grew tired of that pretence rather quickly,” Tom says curtly.

You smirk. “Did she talk to you?”

“Yes.” He looks decidedly irritated.

“A lot, huh.”

He shoots you a glare and you bite back another smile. “Are you going to report her then?” you ask, writing the date out on your parchment.

“No,” Tom says softly. You glance up curiously at his tone and find his dark eyes watching you write, before they flick up to yours. “I can think of a more pertinent retribution for her to endure,” he finishes quietly, not looking away.

“Retribution?” you echo, arching a brow with a slight smile. “And you accuse me of being theatrical.”

But Tom only leans closer and – to general astonishment – places a very gentle kiss on your cheek. His lips linger soft and warm on your skin for a moment as you’re frozen in place, staring at him as he slowly draws away an inch. His eyes roam your face as you blink in surprise, his lips curving into another humorous smile at your expression when there’s a sudden SMASH from behind you.

The entire class turns from where they’ve been staring wide-eyed at Tom’s display of affection to see Staghart’s inkwell knocked asunder on her desk, spreading black ink across the wood and dripping down to the floor, her eyes wide and her expression thunderstruck as she stares at you.

“Clean that up at once, Staghart!” Slughorn says disapprovingly as he strides into the room. “I certainly hope your clumsiness does not extend through today’s lesson – we’re brewing poisons today, class!”

Staghart goes red as the rest of the students titter and chatter, furiously glaring at the pool of ink dripping into her lap.

You glance at Tom and share a silent look of amusement before the two of you simultaneously turn back to your notes, still smirking.

#Tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #established relationship #ravenclaw reader #amortentia #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #harry potter #minific #retribution #prompt #Anon #gn reader

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marmaligne · 3 years

Note

headcanon in two parts, sorry. Ask does not miss it. 1.1 Oh, you know the insecticons from the tfp? Can I have a headcanon where a S/O person is on friendly terms with insecticons?

[TF PRIME] S/O Is Friends With The Insecticons

———————————————————————

* [S/O] meets them by accident quite a bit before the events of the Energon Eaters. Arachnid is still “leader” of the Insecticons by technicality as the only available ‘Queen’ for the hive-mind, however she never really patrols the area or takes care of the hive as she should, rather choosing to wander as a free mind, disobeying orders from everybody.

* You had stumbled upon the hive while taking a short walk along the side of the Jasper highway, leading out of town and to an old coal mine you liked to inhabit on your days off work. A home-away-from-home of sorts, it brought you peace of mind to have a quiet place.

* At least you thought it was a quiet, desolate area until you broke through a thinning in the rock floor of the entry shaft and ended up crashing an Insecticon tea-party.

*It was a rather awkward fall, and it had injured your hip joint on the way down, leaving you temporarily paralyzed in throbbing pains and nerve damage.

* The giant bug-like robots and their shiny, metal wingspans immediately armed themselves and aimed at the shifting dust and rockfall, growling and chittering in a language of some sort, unknown to you.

* “Is it one of those ugly-faced Decepticons ploys again?”

* “It’s too small and squishy, much sooner to be a predacons’ chew toy than any weapon.”

* You looked super confused, absolutely stupefied, completely duped, utterly incomprehensible, awkwardly awed, amazingly idiotic, a-

* Their manner of speech and vocal patterns was practically lost on you. You could pick up remnants of a language similar to broken [language], but really nothing else. In an attempt to make contact with the metallic giants to gain help, you enabled your parroting capabilities.

* Humans have the stunning ability to mimic sounds and specific noise frequencies, at levels other earthen animals, especially mammals, cannot. Using this ability, you managed to copycat the grinding and chattering noises coming from the vocal mass of bug-bots.

* [S/O]: “¿Krrt-grrut vvurrr chechch?”

* Hardshell: “¿Buzzzz vert-tet-brrrz, Erreech?”

* [S/O]: “¿Erreech?”

* Hardshell: “¡VRREE BUZZZ-EECH CLICKLICKIK!”

* The contact went well, unbeknownst to you, and the successful communication meant that you might actually have a chance at escape, or finding a hospital!

* Congrats! You are now [Tiny Bug Child]! You have no idea what they were speaking about, unaware that they were contemplating how to execute you, but you successfully managed to evade death by being cute and cuddly! People say curiosity killed the cat, but it evidently saves the naive human-who-fell-into-an-insect-cult-meeting!

* Hardshell, the Insecticon you nearly landed on top of, begins to lift you out of the rubble, and place you down upon a makeshift stone table, partially destroyed by the collapse. The others—including Wingflap, Bombshell, Shrapnel, Blockhead, and Kickback—gather closely around you, cooing and chirping in their weird language again.

* This was, evidently, how you became the new Queen of the hive, though you didn’t know it, and managed to befriend your way through the entire enclosed community and worm into the spark of every Insecticon, though they were very few in number.

* You made easy friends with Bombshell, and remained close with him up until his untimely death by Bulkheads hammer fist. He would often lay atop the Jasper cliffside with you, and make out shapes in the clouds, constellations in the stars—regaling to you tales of the Old Cybertron, when his own kind weren’t so despised, and were respected as viable assets and allies amongst those with forms like and unlike their own—until the Autobot Elitists ensured they were seen as ugly and malformed, made to hide away in the shadows and step away from society for ‘the greater good’.

* It’s how you came to hate the Autobots—and Decepticons—for all they had done, to their planet and yours, and to your friends as well.

* Your mimicry slowly turned into actual speech patterns and recognition. Repetitive sound signals were a key portion of Archaic Insecticon speech, which made it easy to recognize simple words or phrases, each indicated by a set of whirs, clicks, or beeps.

* Now that you could actively communicate with most of the hive, it was far easier to make friends with even the hardiest of bots.

* Hardshell, of course, was tough to crack. At your constant insistance, he spoke with you once or twice, and made sure to acknowledge your presence when in the room, as well as save you a seat at the underground pub every other weekend. It wasn’t actually a pub per-say, rather a dugout chamber with smooth walls and some stone slabs insert for seating, where the cons enjoyed engex they could sneak off the Nemesis from time-to-time.

* After awhile, he warms up to you, welcoming you back to the hive every day after work, standing alongside his multiple siblings, and pushing others aside to get to hold you first.

* Meanwhile this all happens, they still don’t know what a human is. Their simple understanding of earth comes only from what they’ve seen on the highway from the cliffside, or from video footage of the Autobot pests on the Nemesis. Due to their bulky size and noisiness, they’re banned from most human-inhabited areas.

* Don’t doubt that some of them have attempted to follow their [S/O] home. They have. And some of them won’t stop trying. It’s been more than one awkward encounter between you and some teens to get them to realize they could get you in trouble.

* You all eat [dessert] together sometimes, made with energon supplements for ‘The Boys™️’, with some good ol’ 25-something-kg of sugar mixed in.

* The boys were worried when you didn’t show up for a week due to hospitalization via severe food poisoning medical coma.

* When Arachnid finally returned to Earth, and her fight against Arcee had proceeded about as well as expected, she located the hive and proceeded to force them to engage in business with Megatron. She believed that by implementing her own soldiers amongst the ranks, she’d be better equipped to backstab Megatron when the time came.

* She was undoubtably surprised when Hardshell and some others adamantly refused to take part in her plans at first, until she enforced their compliance through the hive-mind.

*When she learned of your existence, and the very gauge of your importance to her former hive, she came at you with full force.

*The Insecticons were fully unprepared to deal with a fight between their small [S/O] and an extremely angry ex-Queen. In refute, they returned you to the surface without so much as a goodbye, and begged you to escape before Arachnid scented you out.

* It was soon after these events that you learned of Breakdown’s death, Bulkhead’s coma, and Bombshell’s demise due to the combined effects of a substance called Tox-En and injuries sustained during his battle with Bulkhead. It broke you inside to learn there was nothing you could have done to help, but you refused to disobey their pleas to stay away for awhile.

* At the hive, Arachnid rules supreme. Being able to control the hive-mind was a feat a human was incapable of achieving, only Cybertronians able to easily access the imbedded chain of command.

* Hardshell mourned the loss of a true friend—a small, squishy human—but a friend nonetheless.

* Wingflap and Kickback went through a collection of memories you’d left behind with them. Pictures and small objects gifted over the years, a small treasure trove of important parts of their lives, now without you in them.

* Shrapnel stims a lot more now, and has nervous tics that he believes are the result of the loss of his dear friend. He knows you aren’t dead, least not yet, but he knows that you’ll likely never come back.

* Blockhead, as dumb as everybody thinks he is, is actually very emotionally intelligent. He has a way with words he barely understands, and [S/O] acted as a big support for someone like him. Without them now, he can no longer function like normal, and now has nobody left to talk to.

* Arachnid could care less. She absolutely despises [S/O], and would smite them for all she cares. You matter little to her, and only worry her for the loyalty and capacity of her troops.

* It isn’t until the Energon Eaters appear that everything turns completely south.

* [S/O] finally builds up enough courage to march themselves back down to the mine, and demand to meet Arachnid face-to-faceplate.

* The desert is hot, Nevada is hotter, and the trek down the highway seems endless and tedious. You pass by 5 interstate signs on your way to the hive, and count the steps it takes to reach the entrance, parched by the time you make it there.

* In all your sweaty glory, you, [S/O], make your way down the carved pathway into the mineshaft, dark and cramped—just as you left it.

* But everything is exactly as it was left, not an item out of place. The entire hive was empty, including of those you cared about. Their rooms are full of memories, and their energon cubes still lie in a corner, collecting dust and grime.

* The search seems profitable, yet it leaves you with nothing, and the emptiness of the hive echoes around you, and in all the chambers, through the cavern walls of every room.

* You know they’re gone, that they have left without you, and without so much as a simple passing note.

* Perhaps someday you’d find them, hiding away in another Jasper mine, but you never would.

* In their haze of a hive mind, they barely even remember the face of the human they left behind. A long line across the moon—stretching on for miles—and a vampire on a false throne, draining the lifeblood from their veins, and the image of [S/O] from their minds.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

#writing #transformers x reader #transformers imagine #transformers headcanon #tfp insecticons #transformers #transformers prime #tfp decepticons #x reader #tfp #insecticons #platonic reader

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

Always

Summary: You overhear Steve talking to Bucky about going back to be with Peggy. Rather than confronting the situation, you write him a letter.

Warnings: I cried just thinking about writing this, so much angst, some swearing

Word Count: 3305

a/n: here it is folks: the sad fic I mentioned a few posts ago. Inspired by a multitude of songs from the album Ashlyn by Ashe. I high key recommend listening to that album while you read or just in general. I'm pretending like nobody died in Endgame because that shit is sad and I know this is sad aside from that, but I still have a heart ya know?

Per usual, any song lyrics (or song lyrics that I changed a bit) are in bold! I think used lyrics from Me Without You, Save Myself, I'm Fine, Love is Not Enough, and Always.

Masterlist

"You'd really want to go back?" You overheard Bucky right before you walked into Steve's room.

"I don't know." He let out a deep sigh. "I mean, I do know, but what do you think?" Steve's answer left you wondering what they were discussing.

"All for Peggy?" Your heart stopped waiting for Steve to reply.

Another sigh escaped his lips. You could easily picture him running his hands down his face, a signal he was deep in thought. "I mean, I never got a chance to see what would happen with her. Don't you think she deserves this much?"

You felt frozen. You couldn't hear the rest of Steve's answer or Bucky's reply over the sound of blood rushing through your ears.

It was all too much to handle. Rather than confront the grab bag of emotions swimming inside of you, you turned around and went back to your room in a zombie like haze.

"Friday, don't let anyone in my room."

You know the AI replied, but you were still too caught up in thought to understand it. Your mind was full of questions you knew you couldn't figure out the answers to alone.

Why would Steve want to go back for Peggy when he had you? Why would he even consider it if he loved you like he said he does? Is he still in love with Peggy? Has he been in love with her the whole time? Why would he choose her when he's spent so much more time with you?

"Y/N?" The sound of Steve's voice outside your door startled you. "Y/N, honey, are you in there?"

You could hear the doorknob rattling in his attempt to open it, but Friday was doing as you asked.

"I thought you were going to meet me downstairs?"

His words only broke your heart more, a small sniffle escaping despite your efforts to remain quiet.

"Are you not feeling well? What's wrong?"

His questions were left unanswered, much like the questions swimming around your head.

Steve kept talking to you through the door for a while, but you never replied. You weren't ready to face him, not until you knew you wouldn't say something you'd later regret.

The next few days carried on much the same. You refused to leave your room, relying on various snacks and protein bars you had for food. Every few hours, you would try to write down what you were feeling, but it didn't help calm you down the same way it typically did.

Everyone tried talking to you, but nothing worked. Steve spent hours outside your door every day in an effort to get you to talk to him, but you just couldn't figure out your emotions. It was all still too much to handle.

Late one night, Steve said something that forced you into action.

"Y/N, I don't know what happened, but if I did something I'm truly sorry. I'm returning the stones tomorrow. We've never not said goodbye before a mission... I just hope this one is the same."

You listened as he quietly walked back down the hallway, steps slowly receding until you were left in the same absolute silence you've spent the last few days.

You knew you had to talk to him, but hearing him say to your face that he's staying with Peggy would kill you.

You couldn't survive a permanent goodbye, not in your current state of mind.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, you decided to write Steve a letter. Maybe you'd give it to him or maybe it would just help you organize your thoughts. Either way, it would be helpful to write to someone for a change.

Hi Steve,

I, well, I guess I'll start with this. You deserve an apology. I'm truly sorry for ignoring you for the past few days. I just... I heard what you said to Bucky and I didn't know how to deal with it.

You know I've never been the best at controlling my emotions, so I just holed myself up in here. I avoided you so I could figure out my own feelings first.

I know I should talk to you. You deserve that too, but I don't think I could survive the heartbreak. I guess I'll try to explain everything I've been thinking and feeling since that night.

Honestly, I'm not sure where to start. It feels kind of stupid to say, but I obviously experienced a range of emotions when I first heard you and Bucky talking about going back.

You know I've always found solace in writing, so that's what I'm doing. I needed a way to clear my thoughts, and it turned into this concoction of thoughts and some poems - you know how I feel about poems. (Look at that! A sarcastic comment! I didn't think I was capable of humor anymore.)

This might not surprise you, but the first emotion I clung to was anger. I'm not angry anymore, well at least not as angry. Anyway, I wrote this next part when I was absolutely pissed at you.

What the fuck?

You want to go back in time and stay there?

You want to leave me behind?

Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you?

I could keep you here. If I really wanted to, I could figure out a way to do it. I could cut the brakes just to keep you from leaving. I'll do it too. My hands on the wheel would drive us into a wall.

You must think I'm being petty. Hiding in my room like a child to avoid you. All the while, here I am writing all the things I could do to keep you. Well, news flash: I don't need you. You made me think the only world I could exist in, was one you lived in, almost had me fooled.

Here's something you probably never considered, because I sure as shit never thought I'd even need to. I can be me without you. I don't have to rely on you for my own happiness. I thought you loved me, but if you want to go back and be with Peggy, do it. Go find yourself, let me down.

It's easy to sit here now and look back on how everything we had would always be second string to your relationship with her. God damn hindsight's 2020.

I want you to know, you did this to me. You broke my heart. When I heard you say you wanted a chance to be with Peggy, it's like my whole world crumbled down around me.

Everything I thought I knew was ripped out from under me. You poured rain all over my sunny. Yeah, someday, this could all be funny, but right now it's absolute shit.

And maybe everything will work out the way it's meant to be, but honestly I couldn't give less of a shit about that right now.

If I had the chance, I would take it back. Everything. Meeting you. Becoming friends. Dating you. Falling in love. I'd be jumping off your sinking ship, instead of going down with it.

It'd be so much easier that way. If I never fucking knew you.

One day I'll be good. I'll be over all of this bullshit. Right now I'm just mad. And you know what, it's justifiable. I think I'm allowed to be mad at you.

I'm over being so mature. If only I was never yours. Maybe I'll go back in time and undo it all. Then at least I could save myself from you.

Like I said, I wrote that in the heat of the moment. Once my brain caught up to my ears, all I saw was red. Anger didn't last as long as you might think though.

All that was how I felt in the moment, but I want you to know it's not true. I don't really believe any of it. I was hurt and angry and avoiding the pain I knew was just around the corner.

I've always told you anger would be my downfall because I just can't control what I say.

Let me be completely clear, I would never want to undo meeting you. You've been the best part of my life for years. I need you to know that I don't regret any of it and I never will.

Anyway, the anger shifted to tears pretty quickly. It wasn't hard to feel the pain that comes with someone you love leaving you. I can't honestly picture a world where I don't love you.

This is the first poem I wrote. With tear blurring my vision, I put pen to paper and this is what came out.

Complicated. Understated. On the way to, Devastated. I'm just holding on for dear life.

Short and sweet, right? Well, not so much sweet, but you get the point. I feel broken. Here's another bit of poetry for ya.

Right now I'm sorry, Burns through me darling, But I can't help hope In thirty years it won't.

Maybe I just need time. That's what everyone always says. "Time can heal all wounds."

It's hard to even think about moving on though when everything reminds me of you. I've got emotional souvenirs from fleeting moments we spent together. If this is the end, I'll always know you were my golden years. I know in the future I could close my eyes and go back there.

Maybe that's the hardest part. Knowing I'll always have these memories.

All I've been thinking about for the past three days is if this will ever feel better. And maybe it will, when time has passed.

Maybe when I'm older, I'll run out of stories about you. Maybe when I'm older, I'll know what it's like not to love you, Anymore.

Despite my best efforts, it's still only a maybe. Maybe when I'm older I'll be able to stop thinking about you every second of the day. Maybe when I'm older I won't feel like crying everytime I see your face.

But maybe not. Maybe I'll always feel this way.

Maybe when I'm six feet, underneath the concrete, I'll know what it's like not to want you, anymore.

I'm not saying all this to make you feel guilty. You don't need to tell me you're sorry. I know you are. I know you would never hurt me like this without a reason.

I should just talk to you, but I don't think I can. Not yet. We don't need to talk til we're ready. Both of us.

I guess I do have one question. Do you really love me?

I don't think I want to know the answer right now. Because even if you do... it takes a lot more than a rose, more than a kiss, more than a heart to truly love someone and spend forever with them.

It takes a lot more than a ring, more than a vow, more than a promise to build and maintain a relationship.

Love is not enough. I know that now. Even if you love me to the best of your abilities, you could still love Peggy more. Love may not be enough for us, but at least we got that much.

If you leave, I'll live the rest of my life grateful that at least I got your touch for as long as I did.

I used to think we could take our sweet time, that everything would be just fine. But now I know maybe not.

I cried for days. Like I said, I'm not writing this to make you feel guilty though. I just want to be completely honest. I cried a lot, probably more than I ever have before.

I kept replaying memories of time I spent with you. Not even dates, just the small moments that made me know I love you.

Like that day I woke up too early, almost put salt in my coffee. Oh I thank God that you stopped me before that.

I've never been a morning person, but ever since I met you you've always been there to keep my head on straight.

I think the thing I love most about you is how you can read me better than anyone I've ever known. I can hide from everyone else and they won't bat an eye. They never can tell when I'm falling apart on the inside.

No matter how hard I try to hide it though, you don't believe me when I say I'm alright. You can always, always tell.

It's like you've got a sixth sense that tells you I need you when I try to say I'm fine.

Before I met you, I would get so lonely everyday. Now I'm only lonely until you ask if I'm okay and then I remember that I have people who are there for me. I have you.

All this to say, I love you, Steve. I love you more than I've ever loved another human being.

Forever yours,

Y/N

It took you nearly all night to write a coherent letter and come up with a plan to talk to Steve. A quick glance at the clock let you know Steve would be up any minute, so you had to act fast.

You opened your door for the first time in days, running in a full sprint to the stairs and down the hall to Steve's door.

With one final burst of courage, you shoved the letter under the door and ran away before anyone could find you out of your room.

"Y/N?" A familiar knock on your door woke you from a restless sleep. "I read your letter, Y/N please let me explain."

It felt like time slowed down as you stared at the door.

"Y/N, I have to bring the stones back, but I really want to talk to you first."

"Come in." You steadied yourself with a deep breath, but one look at Steve ruined your flimsy resolve.

"Y/N... I tried to wait for you to come to me, but..."

He stopped talking when you shook your head, a painful sob forming in your chest.

"I've been thinking a lot." You started slowly, voice scratchy from days of not being used except to cry. "What if staying with me isn't the best thing to keep you happy?"

"Y/N, I-"

"Please let me finish." You waited for him to acknowledge your words before you spoke again.

"If letting you go is the best way to show that I love you, I will." Tears poured down your cheeks, breaths coming to you shakily.

"Captain Rogers, your presence is requested in the backyard." Friday's voice echoed through the room.

Steve looked more torn than you've ever seen him.

"Let's go." You nodded toward the door. "I've got more to say, but you've got somewhere to be."

Slowly, the two of you walked down the hall and entered the elevator.

"I don't know if you'll ever come back-"

"Y/N, really just let me-"

"Steve, please." You begged him to let you get it all out. "I won't ask 'cause that's selfish."

"It's not." He cut in again.

"It is. You deserve to be as happy as possible." With a slow, shaky breath you continued your speech. "I've come to terms I might never feel whole again."

The elevator doors slid open. You followed Steve to the yard where they set up the time machine.

"I'll be broken when you're gone, but I won't hold you back if it's wrong."

"Steve, there you are! Let's go-"

"In a minute, Sam." Steve's eyes never left you, remaining soft and caring. "We can go back inside if you want." He ran his thumbs over your cheeks, ridding them of tears only to be instantly replaced. You've always hated crying in front of people.

"I don't care what people say." You shook your head, ignoring the potential pitying looks you could receive for crying in front of others. Another deep breath, and you continued. "You know I won't force you to stay."

It was your turn to wipe tears from Steve's face.

"If you leave, I'll be okay. Just promise that you won't forget me babe."

"I could never-" He cut in again only to stop when you gave him a pleading look.

"I understand if leaving is what you have to do. I don't want you to go, but I'll be okay, eventually." You let out a watery chuckle, wiping your eyes again.

"Y/N, I never meant for-"

"Steve, you ready?" Sam interrupted again.

"It's fine. You can go." You did your best to hold back any lingering tears. You had to physically turn Steve around yourself and push him towards the machine.

"Y/N, please, I can't-"

"Steve, they're waiting for you. It's okay, I promise." He finally started to walk away only to pause when you called out one more thing. "Oh, Steve?"

"Yeah?" He wore a solemn smile.

"I'll love you always."

You watched as he listened to Banner's instructions and bid farewell to Sam and Bucky. The bitter part of you wondered if Sam knew.

A strangled sob left your mouth as soon as Steve disappeared. All three men standing around the machine looked your way, Sam and Bucky running toward you to help.

"He should be back any second. It's fine!" Sam desperately tried to console you, but you knew it wouldn't work.

"Y/N. Y/N! Listen to me. Did Steve talk to you?" Bucky asked, ignoring Sam's bewildered expression.

You nodded pitifully.

"Did he explain-" You cut him off.

"He- he didn't ha-have time.: You stuttered as you tried desperately to gulp in air through the tears. "I did most of the talking. I needed him to know it was okay."

"To know what was okay?" Sam asked, still clearly confused.

The thought of explaining it only broke you down more. You would have fallen to the ground if not for Bucky catching you. Your body leaned into his.

"Doll..." Bucky shook his head. "You should have let him explain."

You choked on another sob just thinking about it.

"Shh, it's okay. You'll be okay." Bucky whispered in your ear, ignoring Sam's confused glares.

"Y/N..." The sound of Steve's voice echoed in your ears causing another painful sob to jolt through your body.

"Baby, please look at me."

You genuinely thought you were hallucinating when you opened your eyes to see Steve towering over you.

"Steve?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

"It's me, I'm here." He gently took you from Bucky's arms, cradling you close to him but leaning his head far enough away for you to look into your eyes.

"You came back..." Your tears slowed, gently falling down your cheeks as you stared at him wide-eyed.

"I was never planning to leave." He spoke while gently stroking your hair.

"B-but, you were talking to Bucky about going back?" Your tears gave way to confusion as you glanced between him and Bucky.

"Just to say goodbye." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, breathing in your scent. "I just thought she deserved a real goodbye."

New tears pooled in your eyes as you took in his words. "So, you never wanted to leave me?"

"I could never, and would never, leave you. I love you so much. I just wish I knew why you were holed up in your room sooner." He smiled at you, the same adoring smile he gave you the first time you met.

"I love you too. Always." You leaned into his embrace, relishing in the touch you thought you'd lost forever. He whispered his reply, clinging to you just as much as you were to him.

"Always."

a/n: today I discovered I am truly incapable of writing a sad ending. I just like the idea of escaping to a reality where Steve would never abandon me.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers angst #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff

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yukidragon · 3 years

Text

Our Life Snippet - Lazy Morning Intimacy

So, who’s ready for an extra long serving of shameless fluff from the first draft of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings & Always? My philosophy in writing this is if I can add some more fluffy cuddly moments, I absolutely will, and the Step 3 moment Reflection offers one such opportunity right at the very start before, well, those of you who have played this moment know what happens later.

Spoilers for those who have not played the Step 3 DLC! If you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read any further! If you don’t mind spoilery stuff, well, don’t let me stop you, but I highly, highly encourage you to play through the game before reading any of this.

As always, thanks go to @gb-patch for their wonderful game and their lovely feedback for my work, as well as everyone who likes, reblogs, and comments on these clips I’m posting here. You are all awesome. 💖

...

It wasn’t often that Jamie had the chance to enjoy breakfast at the Holden house. Ever since their parents decreed that they were ‘too old’ for sleepovers, she and Cove didn’t have many opportunities to enjoy that particular meal together, which made today a rare treat. It wasn’t especially fancy fare, but it was lovely to be able to spend time with her boyfriend almost as soon as she woke up. She was glad she impulsively asked if he wanted to have breakfast with her when they exchanged their usual good morning texts.

After a pleasant meal filled with light conversation and tasty food, Cove invited Jamie to retreat to his room to relax and let the lazy morning linger before any big activities began. That was, if they didn’t just decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. Neither of them had any plans in particular, with no prior commitments with friends, family, or work to distract them from just spending the day together. It wasn’t officially a date day, per say, or at least neither of them called it that yet. So far, they just decided to do whatever came to mind while enjoying each other’s company.

Of course, the first thing that came to Jamie’s mind was to cuddle with her boyfriend. When Cove sat down onto the bed, she didn’t hesitate to take a seat beside him, leaning into him. He hummed happily in approval and looped an arm around her to pull her in even closer.

A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as a new thought came to mind, and Jamie leaned in even closer. Cove raised an eyebrow at expression, only to yelp when she unexpectedly pushed her weight into him and tipped him back onto the bed. She fell along with him, giggling as they tumbled onto the mattress

Cove let out a chuckle of his own once he recovered from his surprise. “When I said we could relax, I didn’t mean going back to bed,” he said with a wry smile. Even still, he allowed her to nudge him gently back to the headboard so that they could both lounge comfortably on the bed properly with their heads resting on the pillows side by side.

Jamie flashed Cove a satisfied grin before she snuggled up against his side, nuzzling her cheek against his as she basked in his gentle warmth. “You also said to make myself comfortable,” she teased, her eyes sparkling playfully as she rested her arm across his chest. “I’m very comfortable like this.”

Cove felt his heartbeat quicken, and he smiled back fondly at Jamie, nuzzling her cheek in return. “Me too,” he said softly.

Though maybe he was a little too comfortable.

Cove couldn’t help but be aware of the fact that they were both lying in his bed together. A prickling of nerves rose up that he quickly did his best to tamp down to not ruin the intimate moment they were sharing. It was fine, no big deal, he told himself. They were both fully dressed, on top of the sheets, and it was broad daylight. They cuddled plenty of times like this before on sofas and the ground. Heck, this was nothing compared to when they shared a bed when they were younger.

The flickering of nervousness didn’t escape Jamie’s notice. She softened her expression and reached up to gently run her fingers through her shy boyfriend’s hair. She had intended to steal a kiss or two and see where that would take them, but she decided that could wait until later. Just enjoying this moment with Cove was enough for her.

The touch was soothing, and Cove slowly started to relax as he leaned into Jamie. The anxious air that had threatened to pull him out of the moment gradually dissipated as her comforting warmth slowly settled in. Soon, he felt at ease enough to slip his arm back around her, which she happily used as her new pillow. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing the content expression on his partner’s face as she smiled softly back at him.

A comfortable silence washed over the pair as they simply enjoyed the quiet moment of intimacy. At some point, Jamie went from stroking Cove’s hair to toying with it. His ponytail limited her in how much she could card her fingers through his hair, but there were plenty of long locks to ripple between her fingers.

It wasn’t the first time Jamie got the impulse to play with her boyfriend’s hair. Even before he was officially - or even unofficially - her boyfriend, she couldn’t help but want to run her fingers through those pretty pale green strands. When they were younger, Cove would jokingly try to avoid her hands, but always ‘failed’ to escape in the end, allowing her to have her way. Sometimes she teased him back by pretending to give up, and he would always pout adorably, which she would immediately chase away with a satisfying ruffle of his hair.

Occasionally, Jamie would go beyond playing to actual styling. She was no professional, but it was fun to wind her boyfriend’s hair into a braid or two sometimes. Cove never minded, even if the braids rarely lasted that long after she was finished making them. It also didn’t escape her notice that he would sometimes shiver or let out an adorable pleasured little mumble when she raked her fingers along his scalp. It was an enjoyable experience for both of them, and sometimes she suspected that was one of the reasons why he let his hair grow as long as he did.

Jamie had no such grand designs now. Today she simply basked in the freedom to enjoy the feeling of his soft hair sliding between her fingers as she listened to the happy noises her partner occasionally let slip.

Although much more at ease, Cove couldn’t help the small traces of nervous energy that left him with the need to do something with his hands. He ran his thumb across her shoulder with the hand that was limited by Jamie resting on the upper part of his arm. With his freer hand, he decided to return the favor she paid to him and ran his fingers through her long deep blue hair, starting with stroking back her bangs before sliding his hand down along the entire length of her hair until he reached the ends at her hips. The feeling was soft and silky, and she sighed softly at the attention.

On impulse, Cove poked one of the small buns on top of his girlfriend’s head. Space buns were her preferred hairstyle of choice nowadays, and there was something satisfying about poking them that he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the feel of them, or the way the bunched up hair bounced when poked that did it, but most likely it was because of the amused looks Jamie gave him whenever he did. She wore one such expression now, and he couldn’t help but chuckle a bit before giving her bun another playful poke.

Entertained, Jamie let Cove have her way with her buns, poking and prodding them as he pleased. The potential for innuendo wasn’t lost on her, but she let it go unsaid. As fun as it would be to make him flustered by suggesting that he might enjoy playing with a different set of buns she had even more, she didn’t want to interrupt the light, playful moment.

Jamie would just save that little bit of wordplay for later, preferably when the mood was good enough that Cove might take her up on the invitation.

Despite the steamy thoughts that skirted through her mind, Jamie did her best to focus on enjoying the lazy moment between them. It was lovely to just share such casual intimacy with Cove.

Jamie wasn’t alone in trying to ignore her more hormonal urges. As much as Cove enjoyed playing with her hair, focusing on touching her as he did made it impossible for him to stop thinking about the fact that they were both lying on his bed together. He was keenly aware of the gentle warmth of her body pressed against him, how soft and inviting her pink lips looked as she smiled at him.

Eventually, Cove realized he needed something else to occupy his hands if he didn’t want to risk disrupting the peaceful moment. Shifting about a bit, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Although Jamie raised an eyebrow at that and at being displaced from her cozy spot when he moved around, she held no objections as he turned his phone on and busied himself with it. Instead, she simply readjusted her position to get comfortable once he was settled again.

Sifting through missed texts and emails, Cove soon managed to distract himself from the urges that ruffled his nerves and relaxed back into the moment. He spotted a number of texts he missed from his dad, and for a moment he wondered if everything was okay until he realized Cliff just sent him a bunch of images last night.

A warm smile graced his face as Cove slowly scrolled his way through the photographs, nostalgia washing over him. Each photo brought him back to the moment it was taken, allowing him to lose himself in the priceless memories he shared with his friends, family, and especially the special person he held so comfortably close at that very moment.

Some photos brought back sweet memories, others a little more on the bitter side of sweet, and then there were the funnier ones. One such silly photo seized Cove’s attention, and he couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him.

The sound immediately snapped Jamie out of her relaxed stupor and brought her back to the present. She raised an eyebrow at Cove, but he failed to notice her questioning look, too preoccupied by whatever was on his phone’s screen.

“What’s so funny?” Jamie asked as she propped herself up on her arm to get a better look at his face and catch a glimpse of the phone’s screen.

Cove finally turned to look at Jamie, his eyes crinkled with mirth and a smirk playing on his lips. “Dad scanned some old photos,” he chuckled. “You know…”

Now that Jamie was no longer using his arm as a pillow, Cove was free to use it to draw a rectangle in the air. “Printed out ones,” he explained, “back from when I was little.” He waved his phone a bit with his other hand. “He texted it all to me last night, I guess. I’ve been checking them out.”

Jamie sat up completely, her dark blue eyes flying open wide. “You were looking at your kiddie photos and didn’t tell me?!” she gasped, almost scandalized at missing out on something so priceless.

Cove barely resisted the urge to chuckle, offering Jamie a bent smile as his eyes narrowed playfully. “I was gonna show you.” His gaze then slid away to his phone as his expression turned a little more hesitant. “I just wanted to look at it first to make sure there was nothing super embarrassing. You never know with my dad.”

His mouth pulled into a grimace as Cove could easily imagine all sorts of horrors his dad might have captured on film to unintentionally humiliate him until the end of time. “I mean… what if there’s a photo of me getting potty trained or something?”

Although Jamie empathized with his worries, she couldn’t help but giggle at the fraught expression Cove wore. “Yeah, that sounds like something your dad would do.”

Cove could only respond by clearing his throat nervously, his eyes skirting away from Jamie as he sat up as well. While he hadn’t come across any particularly humiliating photo of himself, he couldn’t quite shake the fear of what his dad’s well-meaning actions might have left for him to deal with this time.

Jamie offered her boyfriend a sympathetic smile before adding a slight bent to it. “Hey, how about this - if you let me look at your embarrassing baby photos, I’ll show you just as many of mine. My moms have plenty of them.”

The offer was tempting. Cove couldn’t help but wonder what sort of photos Jamie had in mind, but the price was just too steep. He merely chuckled awkwardly and shook his head as he pointedly kept his phone tilted away from her. She huffed and puffed out her cheeks in a mock pout at him for holding out on her, which elicited a genuine bout of laughter from him.

Once Cove got his mirth under control, he smiled at Jamie. “Anyway, before we forget, I was laughing ‘cause I came across a Halloween one from when I was eight. The year I was a zombie, remember?”

Jamie dropped her faux pout and nodded, her eyes lighting up eagerly. Cove shook his head at her excitement, a wry grin gracing his face as he finally offered the phone to her.

As Cove watched Jamie eagerly turn to his phone, he couldn’t help but shake his head again, this time at his kid self. “I never even liked zombies!” he said, a little baffled that he ever was so enthusiastic for such a costume. “All I wanted was to show off my new scar. And I needed to be something scary. I couldn’t be a normal person who had a scar, according to my eight-year-old mind.”

The photo displayed on the screen showed Cove from ten years in the past, and a pleasant wave of nostalgia washed over Jamie as she saw him the way he looked when they first met, minus the pink cast and plus a fair amount of makeup and fake blood. Little Cove posed for the camera with his fingers hooked like claws, his mouth open as though letting out what was probably supposed to be a fierce roar. She could easily remember the noises he made that night as he pretended to be a zombie on the hunt for brains. His hair looked even more wild and disheveled than it did after the most energetic day of play, going well with the tattered and ‘blood’ stained button up shirt he wore. His face was painted in gray down to his neck, marred with an array of fake scars that couldn’t compare to the real one on his arm.

Cove looked from Jamie to the phone and chuckled softly at the face his younger self pulled for the camera. “I was a little dork.”

Jamie eyed Cove at such self-depreciation before poking him on the nose. “You were a little cutie,” she insisted. “And now you’re a big cutie.”

Cove blinked at the playful action before blushing at the compliment. He had no words to reply to it except for a quiet, flustered chuckle as he rubbed his nose.

Jamie grinned at that reaction before turning back to the photo. As much as she enjoyed how adorable Cove looked while pretending to be a fierce monster, it was impossible to ignore the scar displayed so predominantly on his arm at that time. Her smile softened at the edges at the sight of such a large, jagged line of fresh skin that was such a deep and angry shade of red. The scar was a pale memory in the present, but back then it looked so painful, and at the time she found it hard not to worry about him and his comfort after his cast came off.

Still, Jamie refused to let that put a damper on the story and focused instead on just how much fun little Cove was having posing for the camera and remembering the way they played around with their costumes that night. She could vividly recall how she pretended to run away from him when he playfully growled that he wanted to eat her brains, and the memory made her smile grow stronger.

“Dad really wanted to be useful, as usual,” Cove said, bringing Jamie’s attention back to him in the present. Though he noticed the flicker of sadness that crossed her face and realized the reason for it, he was glad to see her perk up again just as quickly. “He came up with the idea of being an undead person. It was pretty good, huh?”

Jamie chuckled softly and nodded. “You had the best Halloween costume that year, hands down,” she said playfully. “I remember you getting lots of extra candy when adults realized the scar was real.” Her smile widened as she remembered just how jealous Lizzie had been at how much candy Cove got that year, especially since he only offered to share some of that extra candy with Jamie. “It must have been your greatest Halloween haul ever.”

Cove couldn’t help but chuckle as well as he thought back to that legendary candy haul as well. It took him a month to finish it all even with Jamie’s help.

Still, the topic of his scar brought his gaze back to the picture. Cove couldn’t help but compare the way it looked in the photo to its current appearance on his left arm. “I can’t believe how much larger my scar used to be,” he said quietly.

Jamie watched as Cove turned his focus to his arm with a soft smile on his face. He traced his fingers along the jagged line of pale flesh that remained with him even ten years on. It was an action that she had seen him do countless times, but it felt more significant in that moment.

A soft sigh escaped Cove, but his eyes and tone were playful. “Look at how tiny it is now.” He gave Jamie a look with big, pathetic eyes. “How am I gonna pretend to be tough without a big scar?”

It was a struggle for Jamie not to laugh at the expression Cove wore. “You better not do anything stupid to get a new scar,” she joked with a faux disapproving frown as she wagged a finger at him. “No matter how much you like them!”

Cove grinned back at Jamie. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Jamie said with a satisfied nod. “You’ve already got the coolest scar, no matter how small it gets.”

Cove felt his cheeks grow warm and his smile turned bashful. “Thanks.” He ducked his head away from Jamie, pleased with their joking exchange. Once again, his eyes drifted down to his scar as he continued to trace it.

“I really do like having this,” he admitted in a soft, shy voice. “Even if it is kind of little these days.”

Jamie’s expression softened as well, feeling as though Cove was sharing a big secret with her. She couldn’t help but feel happy to hear that he liked his scar despite whatever pain it must have caused him to get it. It was always wonderful whenever he opened up to her like this.

Cove glanced up at Jamie, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I like yours, too.”

The unexpected compliment caught Jamie off guard, and heat rose in her cheeks, turning them pink. She couldn’t help but smile as she felt her chest flutter with butterflies. He never failed to think of her as well, especially since he knew that she was self-conscious of her own scars.

Unthinkingly, Jamie brought her hand up to her upper arm and traced some of the countless jagged little white lines that marred her pale skin. There were matching scars in the same place on her other arm, as well as her thighs and her chest. Unlike Cove, these scars were not the result of an accident, but her skin not being able to keep up with her sudden growth during puberty.

Back during her early teenage years when the stretch marks were fresh and an angry purplish-red, Jamie always kept them hidden. Puberty had been rough on her, dealing a blow to her self-esteem as well as her body, and being covered in so many scars left her feeling ugly even though she never once thought of Cove’s scar like that.

It took time for Jamie to accept her scars, and she knew that Cove was a big part of why. Seeing the way he took such quiet pride in his scar always made her question how she thought of hers. More than that, he always made her feel beautiful, and he was always the first to remind her whenever she needed it. That was why she was no longer afraid to wear clothes that exposed her scars like she did now.

Jamie scooted in closer to Cove as she smiled adoringly at him, placing her hand on top of his. “Thank you, Cove.”

Cove turned back to face Jamie fully. He finally let go of his scar so that he could take her hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. He felt at peace with his scar and was happy to see the same reflected on her face as well. Their scars held such meaning to them despite coming from unhappy sources.

Jamie squeezed his hand back as she drifted even closer. “Could I touch your scar?”

Cove blinked, taken aback by the request. Usually, Jamie wasn’t shy about touching him without asking first, particularly someplace as innocent as his arm. Still, he quickly realized why she might hesitate to do that now and smiled gently at her as he nodded easily. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Jamie gave Cove’s hand one more squeeze before letting go of it. Lightly, she pressed her fingertips against the edges of his scar. With great care, she slowly ran her thumb along the entire length of it, following the jagged angles the old wound took. The pale flesh was rough when compared to the rest of his skin, which was soft, but with goosebumps rising quickly along his arm as she stroked his scar.

The touch, so delicate and gentle, left Cove feeling a bit lightheaded. Jamie’s touch always felt wonderful and often left him feeling butterflies, but somehow the feel of her paying such careful attention to his scar was particularly powerful. A choked breath escaped him and a wobbly smile played across his face as he lost himself in the feeling.

The dizzied smile Cove wore along with the light pink of his cheeks drew Jamie in with the urge to do more. She locked eyes with him, staring deep into his aquamarine eyes as she took a hold of his arm and raised it up towards her.

A quiet gasp escaped Cove when she realized what Jamie had in mind. He couldn’t look away from her dark blue eyes as she stared so intently into him even as she placed a soft kiss on the old wound that marked him. The feeling of her lips, warm and soft, pressed so tenderly against that particular place sent shivers up his spine, and he let out a tiny squeak.

Jamie smiled against Cove’s skin as she appreciated his adorable reaction, as well as the way he looked at her with overwhelming adoration. She kissed him again and again, tracing the entire length of his scar with her lips like she did with her fingers before.

It was impossible for Cove to stay still when Jamie was showing him such affection. He reached up with his free hand to touch her arm. With his thumb, he brushed aside the edge of her open sleeve, giving him better access to the countless little white lines marking her pale skin. The texture was interesting, feeling so similar yet so different from his own scar. Because of their size and number, he found his fingers constantly alternating between soft skin and rougher tissue. It was difficult to trace any one scar from start to finish like she did for him, so instead he sought out to touch every single one.

The touch was electric, and Jamie could feel her heartbeat speed up as Cove caressed her so lovingly. “Cove…”

Cove shivered again as Jamie murmured his name against his skin, setting off sparks that made his body burn pleasantly. It urged him to lean forward, his eyes gleaming with the fire she set ablaze inside him.

Jamie raised her head and instinctively matched his movement, drawing nearer to Cove as her eyes drifted closed. She felt his lips gently meet hers, and she melted into the tender kiss. She held a little more firmly onto his arm as she fell deeper into him, feeling like she might drown in the depths of her feelings for him.

Cove all too quickly lost himself in the moment and in Jamie. It felt so wonderful, so right to be her like this, to touch and kiss her. He loved her so much that it was almost overwhelming, but knowing that she loved him as well kept him grounded.

Eventually they finally drifted apart, breathless and dazed from the kiss, their faces flushed with heat. When Jamie opened her eyes, she saw Cove gazing back at her with his mesmerizing ocean blue eyes. The look he gave her was spellbinding, filled with so much love and adoration that made her heart hammer hard against her ribcage. It told her without words that the feelings he had for her were just as immense as hers were for him.

Cove leaned in again, this time resting his forehead gently against Jamie’s. With heavy lidded eyes, he simply enjoyed gazing deeply into her blue eyes that always reminded him of the night sky. No matter how many times he saw them, they always captivated him. He could lose himself in those beautiful eyes of hers.

The feeling of his warm breath tickling her skin made Jamie shiver a little, especially the way it brushed against her lips like the ghost of a kiss. With their heads touching, his hand on her arm and hers on his, she felt entirely entwined with Cove. It felt so right.

Time ceased to have any meaning in that moment as they gazed deeply into their partner’s eyes and drank in the closeness and warmth they shared. Seconds or minutes might have passed, but neither of them cared as they lost themselves in each other.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life #ourlifeba #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #Jamie Leimomi #My Writing

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kung-laos-hat · 3 years

Text

Kiss Me

Kung Lao x Fem!Reader

AN: Kung Lao, my beloved. Wrote this while listening to Kiss Me More by Doja Cat ft. SZA, banger song. Not proof read yet‼️

Summary: Who doesn’t like when a little friendly rivalry turns into something more?

“You ready to meet your match this time?” Kung Lao chuckled, adjusting his footing and placing a hand on the tip of his hat.

“Course’ I am Lao,” (Y/n) huffed, getting into position, “When they get here make sure to let me know, yeah?”

This had become a daily occurrence. After dinner time, when lessons and training were done for the evening, the three of them would return to the court and cash in on a little sparring. It was their odd way of spending time together outside of missions, plus with the grand tournament coming up, they could use the extra practice.

Usually they had a rotation system that went Liu versus (Y/n), then (Y/n) versus Lao, then Liu versus Lao. They would rest a little after each match, then continue on per usual. However today’s session was going a little different.

Yesterday, (Y/n) had won against Lao and was so proud of her achievement she couldn’t help but rub it in, and Lao, being the prideful young man he was, demanded a rematch. He claimed the mission he’d gone on earlier that day had screwed him over physically. (Y/n) agreed to it, and now here they were.

“3...2...1... fight!” Liu Kang called out from the top on the stairs leading into the main hallway. As the pair lunged at each other, causing reddish brown puffs of dirt to fly off of the ground, he calmly sat and observed.

Minutes passed, and neither party seemed to have even made a scratch on the other. However, an impressive amount of blocking was being done by Kung Lao currently, so Liu assumed the victory would go to (Y/n). The girl had a giddy smile plastered across her face, and it seemed like she, too, expected the victory to be hers.

Liu turned to the side and reached for his water, but noticed he hadn’t brought any with him. He sighed and stood up.

“I’m going to fetch some water from the kitchen. Continue on, but please don’t wreck anything or kill each other. Master will have a fit and then I’ll receive part of the blame for not monitoring you two properly.” Liu said.

“Expect to come back to my—,” (Y/n) began before dodging a kick, “Another one of my victories!”

“Fat chance!”

Previous to all of this, the two friends already had some sort of tension between them. It started off as a friendly rivalry, competing for trifling things such as the last egg roll or using the bathroom first in the morning. But as the years passed, the competitons began to become more... personal. And so did the bickering. Somehow (Y/n) and Lao shifted from “if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick your ass” to “if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna make you.��

Nevertheless, the three of them quite enjoyed their dynamic (despite Liu Kang shooting knowing looks at the two individually).

Now (Y/n) had Kung Lao backed into a corner with her (weapon/power) held against his neck. Lao strained his neck upwards, his left arm holding his hat behind his back.

“That was the saddest block I’ve seen all day, Lao. Do you yield yet?” (Y/n) smirked triumphantly.

He glanced down at her and huffed. “Watch your tongue, (Y/n).”

He swiftly slid his foot under her, knocking her off her feet, and brought his hat back up to his head before disappearing into the ground. He reappeared behind her and attempted to pin her to the ground, but she jumped up and tackled the boy, landing with her legs straddling Lao’s right one and her hand on his chest.

“You’re so predictable these days,” (Y/n) laughed.

Lao propped himself up on his elbows, “You’re only saying that because you’ve gotten used to my moves.”

“Maybe you should take some time away from me,” (Y/n) jeered, “Y’know, and learn some better ones.”

Lao furrowed his eyebrows, “God, if you don’t stop flapping your mouth—,”

“You’re trapped under me, what are you gonna do? Kiss me?” She laughed.

Lao brought his leg up and forcefully kicked her off, sending her tumbling across the court. (Y/n) jumped onto her feet, narrowly avoiding hitting the wall.

“If you keep that up I just might.” Lao teased.

“You wouldn’t have the nerve,” (Y/n) lunged at him again.

Lao used his hat to block her attack and landed a solid kick to her side. “Is that a challenge?”

God, every word that came out of the girl’s mouth was beginning to get him fired up. He could feel his chest begin to tingle with a mix of excitement and anxiety. What if (Y/n) genuinely wanted to kiss him? If he tried, would she pull away? Kung Lao had always been the bolder of the two, but still.

Kung Lao charged at her and grabbing her hands, holding them behind her back with one hand before she could fully regain her footing. With his other hand he grasped the collar of her top and pulling her closer to his body. (Y/n) was paralyzed by this sudden action and her breath hitched. She looked up at Lao with uncertainty, the color of her cheeks turning redder than the fabric Liu Kang tied around his head.

Lao’s hand trailed up to her face, holding the side of her jaw with his pointer and middle finger while his thumb traced circles over her lower lip. Lao was looking directly into her eyes now.

“Just say the word and I will, (Y/n).” His tone was quieter and more serious than ever before.

(Y/n)’s mouth quivered. It felt like her brain had entirely blanked and she couldn’t find anything clever to respond with.

“I— I... I yield!” She cried, quickly pulling away in embarrassment.

(Y/n) ran up the stairs just as Liu Kang returned. She nodded to him in acknowledgment, but continued to rush off to her room.

Liu stopped and glanced from her retreating figure to his cousin who stood along in the court.

“So... who won?” He cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Kung Lao buried his face in his hands.

———

The next couple of days seemed incredibly off to everyone. (Y/n) went out of her way to avoid interacting with Kung Lao, and vice versa. Lao’s thoughts were just too jumbled for him to approach her, no matter how much he wanted a confirmation on whether she felt the same or not, and (Y/n) was having a difficult time making sense of Lao’s actions.

What would happen if they did like each other? Although at this point, neither of them were sure if “like” was the correct term to use. (Y/n) was certain up until then that Kung Lao had meant everything was a joke and simply took this one a little too far. The insults, the flirting, all of it had been a joke, right? That was their silent agreement. Lao would never do anything with the intention of... well... getting to (Y/n), per say. Their intentions with eachother had always been purely platonic.

But was that really the truth in (Y/n)’s case? Or had she been ignorant to her own feelings towards the boy all along? Is that why she couldn’t stand to look him in the eye now? What if she really was in—

“(Y/n)! Master wants me to accompany him somewhere, so I can’t make it tonight.” Liu called out as he jogged to catch up with the girl.

She blinked, “Oh, it’s alright Liu, we can reschedule for another night then.”

He stretched his arms over his head. “Why don’t you use the time to catch up with Kung Lao? It seems like you two hardly got to spend time together this week.”

(Y/n) blushed and began to shift her feet uncomformably, “Lao and I— we’re- I haven’t...” She sighed, “I’m not exactly in the mood to talk to him any time soon.”

Liu frowned, “It isn’t my place to speak in the matter, and I’m not sure what went down between you two, but If Lao said something I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

The girl groaned and leaned her head back. “That’s what I’m afraid of...” She mumbled.

Liu placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair, then placed both of his hands on her shoulders.

“You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you two will be back on track eventually. Remember: a little communication goes a long way.”

She nodded, “You’re right, I know. I’ll try to sort it out.”

___

Now, Kung Lao was completely crumbling over why (Y/n) had pushed him away. He believed that (Y/n) felt something for him, he was sure of it, and he’d been searching for an opportunity to pursue her for months. So when she jokingly asked if he would kiss her, how could he have resisted?

It was an impulsive decision, he admitted, but he was so sure she felt the same that he thought it didn’t matter. Maybe he should have been more forward and confessed his feelings for her in a different setting.

Buuuuut it was too late now. He blew it. And now she was avoiding him. He was a fool to assume such things about her.

Lao signed and threw himself done on his bed, sprawling his arms and legs out dramatically.

“Cousin? I’m heading out soon, I came to say goodbye—,” Liu’s voice faltered when he saw the state of his friend. He stifled a laugh. “Y’know, if you if this is effecting you so badly, why not just apologize and talk to her?”

Lao’s head shot up in alarm. “Oh no, how much did she tell you!?”

Liu laughed, “Little to nothing, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed the strange energy between you two lately.”

Lao groaned and sat up.

“Heed my advice, and stop moping around, Lao.” Liu patted the other young man’s shoulder before setting off to find their master.

___

A few hours passed and Kung Lao finally felt like he had the right words to explain how he felt to (Y/n). Yes, he’d spent hours cooped up in his room, scribbling his thoughts down on paper until he ultimately decided it was best to be direct. The poor girl was probably confused enough as it was.

It was settled then. He’d talk to her tomorrow after training and lessons, but right now it was probably best to focus on dinner.

He silently walked down the main hall and towards the kitchen. He was sheet he staff had already cleaned up dinner, and seeing as he wasn’t present to eat with the others, it was likely they didn’t bother to prepare him a plate.

Lao opened the door but froze in his tracks at the sight of (Y/n) standing in front of the counter, her shirt stained with the remnants of assorted ingredients. She staggered back at the sight of him in the door way. Lao’s eyes strayed to a small tray of egg rolls and a few other dishes.

“Kung Lao,” She breathed out.

He cleared his throat. “That seems a little excessive for a late night snack.”

“Oh this—,” (Y/n) glanced to the tray and back at him, “You weren’t at dinner, and I didn’t expect you to come to the kitchen... it was supposed to be a secret.”

“I see.” Kung Lao was silent for a moment. “Oh. OH— this is,” He gestured to the tray awkwardly, “for me...”

(Y/n) pursed her lips and nodded, glancing down at the floor. The two of them stood without a word for a moment, anxiety building up in their stomachs. Neither of them wanted to be the first to break the silence, and yet both of them had so much to say.

“I’m sorry.” (Y/n) mumbled at last. “I took our usual teasing too far last time, and I shouldn’t have avoided you—,”

“I wanted to kiss you.” Kung Lao blurted out. “I still do. And wanted you to want me to kiss you.”

“Kung Lao, the jokes we made were fun and all—,”

“Well, I’m not playing around anymore, (Y/n). This time it isn’t a joke.” The serious look he had on the other day had returned.

“So...,” (Y/n) began, barely a whisper, “what are you saying?”

Kung Lao exhaled heavily and furrowed his brows. “How can I be any more transparent right now!?” He growled, “I’m in love with you, (Y/n).”

It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of both of their chests in that moment.

(Y/n) smiled and wasted no time to wrap her arms around Kung Lao’s neck and press her lips against his. He kissed back without hesitation and wrapped his arms around her body shamelessly. Kung Lao deepened the kiss, and their lips moved together feverently, as if this was something they’d both been yearing for for a while.

When they finally separated, (Y/n) rested her head in the crook of Lao’s neck, sighing happily.

“You know what? I think I just might be in love with you too, Lao.”

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