#i’m explaining it terribly but its great | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Text

do you believe me now?

in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)

part two

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!

“You’re so pretty.”

It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues.

“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”

You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“…I do.”

It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs.

“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”

The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface.

Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”

Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.

“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”

That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more.

“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”

“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”

Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment.

“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”

“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable.

“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness.

“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”

His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak.

“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”

A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you.

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”

“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”

He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down.

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”

“Sex?”

You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!”

He laughs again, a little less reserved this time.

“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”

“No! Too scary!”

Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder.

“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

“That’s impossible.”

Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could.

“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”

The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs.

“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”

When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips.

“I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”

You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”

“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”

“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”

———————————————

Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade.

Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin.

“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.

“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“

“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”

Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh.

“I did not get all weird.”

“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”

He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”

Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”

And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles.

“Now you’re getting brave?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements.

“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg.

“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly.

“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”

A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs.

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”

“Is that what happened?” he teases.

“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents.

Almost.

“Slow down.”

He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed.

“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”

His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention.

“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him.

Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm.

“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”

His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him.

“Okay.”

A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back.

Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”

Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them.

“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again.

“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”

You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—

“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”

Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”

It works for him.

When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good.

Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice.

“You’re sensitive, huh?”

“S—sometimes.”

He hums contemplatively.

“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”

You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum.

“About what?”

“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine.

The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.

“You.”

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”

Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.

“Really?”

“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?”

You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”

“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”

You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again.

His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you.

A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away.

“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet.

“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes.

“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it.

“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message.

Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky.

“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”

It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort.

Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh.

“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly.

His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily.

“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”

Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly.

“Then we both did it right.”

“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”

Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”

The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy.

“Because I can’t have you all the time.”

“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids.

He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin.

“You’re shockingly precocious.”

You hum.

“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”

He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”

“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you.

He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;

I love you

I love you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

5K notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 6 months

Note

hi mei! i absolutely love your stories! you’re a really great writer 🥰

i was wondering if u’d be interested in doing a hotch drabble about him with a s/o who seems really intimidating but is actually really soft and sweet?

like maybe it’s her appearance that makes the team intimidated by her—edgy clothing and dark makeup and stuff—when she shows up to hang out with hotch on his lunch breaks. and she’s like ‘i feel like your team doesn’t like me :(‘ and he’s like ‘honey, they’re borderline scared of you’ but it’s fluffy.

if you don’t wanna that’s totally okay! i did a bad job explaining but i’m sure you’d do an amazing job :)

love ya!! hope ur having a good day

Aaron loves when you visit him at the office for lunch, but you don't look like you're in high spirits yourself. When you sit down its with a huff and a hiss of the chair accommodating your weight, only adding to your dramatics.

"This might be my career in profiling speaking," Aaron begins, his voice soft in case something is terribly wrong, "But something tells me you're not having a good day, sweetheart."

"You're good," You tease him, and he wishes you could laugh about it together, "Aaron, I think Doctor Reid is afraid of me."

Aaron has to bite his tongue not to laugh. Doctor Reid is afraid of buffets, he thinks, but it's not an abundance of germs that unnerves Spencer about you, it's- well, it's everything he knows about you.

"Honey," Aaron calls upon that sweet tone again, "He doesn't know you very well."

"You didn't deny it!" You groan, falling back into your chair and abandoning your soup on his desk, "I knew it. What did I do?"

Aaron looks into your eyes, black-lined and sharp. He watches you chew on your cheek, your black-stained lips moved by the nervous quirk. Below your tense jaw is a chain that rests against your neck, not a full choker but not loose, either. It nearly disappears into the hem of your jacket, black leather that falls over a rather graphic old band tee.

"It's not what you've done," Aaron explains tentatively, "It's probably- well, how you look."

Your nose scrunches, and Aaron marvels the fact that you seem to have forgotten your appearance, "How do I look?"

"Like a doberman pinscher in human form," Aaron bites off a corner of his sandwich, chewing it in lieu of pressing the matter further.

"I like dobermans." You supply weakly, "Why is he afraid of me?"

"You're just not what he's used to," Aaron sighs, swallowing his mouthful and leaning across the desk, hand outstretched, "He probably thinks you could dismember him with those nails."

You place your palm in Aaron's own, and he flips your hand around to showcase the rather impressively sharp acrylics you're sporting.

"And your boots are heavier than he is, I guarantee it," Aaron nods down at your thick-soled black boots, ones that give away your entrance from a mile away by the sound of their rubber hitting the ground.

"He's just..." Aaron searches for the right word, trying not to disparage you or Reid, "Skittish. You should talk to him, though, honey. He likes science, and literature, and Star Trek. Pick something from one of those categories, and I promise he'll never stop talking to you for the rest of your life."

You're mostly satisfied, but you let your hand rest in Aaron's for a moment longer, and he'd be a fool to drop it.

"Am I scary, Aaron?" You ask earnestly, and his smile is warm as he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss at your knuckles.

"Not to me. And not to anyone who knows you," He promises, "But... it is nice to not have to worry about carrying a gun when we go out together."

"Aaron!" You laugh, "I'm not a weapon!"

"You could be!" Aaron insists, tugging your hand over to his lunch and dragging your fingernail across his sandwich, "Here, honey, cut it for me, would you? They forgot to give us knives."

"Stop!" You insist, but your laughter gives you away as you turn back to your soup with burning cheeks, "Just you wait, Aaron. As soon as Penelope stops running whenever I enter a room, we're gonna talk shit about you for this."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

brooooswriting · 3 months

Note

Could you please write Leighton giving r some lessons in math cause r is terrible but needs to pass the course

R going with leighton to shop different things

Progressing to a relationship

You can do whatever you desire with this 😅

Tutors to lovers

Every day, your parents showed that they knew nothing about you. You didn't wanna go to Essex, and you definitely didn't wanna take advanced math, but they made sure that it was impossible for you to get out of it. Their demands on you were crazy; a 3.7 GPA was what they called terrible. And with your current understanding of advanced math? You were so fucked, and the person sitting next to you thought the same thing.

“Psst, look. You gotta divide this by 4, and then you have to calculate its root. Then you have 6 as the value of on x.” Leighton whispered to you, hoping to help you understand what the teacher was doing at the front. But the way you looked at her so helplessly and confused made her laugh louder than she intended to.

After class, you quickly stopped the blonde before she could walk out. “Leighton, hey. Thank you for trying to help me. Can I buy you a coffee as a thanks?” you asked with a small smile. She looked at you for a second before nodding. “Alright, then follow me” you walked out and towards sips, making small talk on the way there.

“After you,” you mumbled as you opened the door to the coffee shop for her. She thanked you and walked in, looking around the place. “What? Have you never been here before?” you asked with a small laugh, signaling that you were joking.

She looked at you for a moment before scrunching up her nose a bit and shaking her head. “No, never been. Not the biggest fan of cheap coffee and of whatever it smells like in here.” You grinned slightly as you walked toward the counter, your wallet already in hand.

“Yeah, well, I would have taken you to a more fancy place, but we both have another class in 20 minutes, and a good coffee is like 15 minutes away.” Leighton nodded, an understanding look on her face as you stepped up to the counter. After she told you what she wants to drink, you turn towards the counter again. “Oh, hey, Kimberly. How are you? Can I get two iced lattes and two blueberry muffins?”

“Y/n, it's so great to see you. I'm fine, thank you. How are you?” you talked for a bit while you paid, and she made your coffee, the blonde only standing behind you. “Alright, here you are. Have a great day, see you later Leighton” Both of you said goodbye before sitting on a park bank outside.

“So, can I ask you something?” Leighton asked as you played with her straw. You nodded, waiting for her to ask as you watched people walk by. “Why are you taking advanced math? Not to be rude, but you suck at it”

You laughed slightly before taking a deep breath. “Well, my father took it, my mother took it and my sister at Harvard is taking it. So, even if I suck at it and hate it, I have to take it too. But it seems like I’m failing it” you explained, looking at her for a second before continuing, “unlessssss someone would be willing to tutor me.” The grin you sent her made her smile while looking down at the bench to hide her slight blush.

“You know what, fine. Why not. Come by my dorm tomorrow at 5 ok?” The blonde didn’t even wait for an answer before she walked off, joining Bella on her way to the next class.

The next day you arrived at her dorm at 5 pm sharp, being greeted by Kimberly and Whitney who sat in their common room. “Hey y/n, Leighton is still in her room” Kimberly started but was quickly interrupted.

“Oh my god Bella” leighton screamed from inside their room, “can’t you just fuck him anywhere else? Jeez, i have a tutoring lesson in here”

“This isn’t just your room Leighton. This is our room and it’s made for sleeping” Bella argued back making you girls in the living room giggle.

“Dude, that’s so fucked from you. Keep away from my bed! If one thing is out of place later you’re in trouble!” The three of you stopped giggling as Leighton stormed out of the door, nearly running into you. “Y/n, let’s go. We gonna go to the library or some shit because somebody is being intolerable” she screamed the last part making you laugh.

“Alright, come on. You gotta calm down” you pulled Leighton out of the room, saying goodbye to the rest of her dorm mates. You went into the library where you sat down, and minutes later you were desperate for it to stop.

“Y/n, cmon. You gotta concentrate dude, it’s not that hard” the blonde complained as she went over the same exercise again and again.

“It may not be hard for you blondie, but I’m dying over here. I would even fail basic math class, there is no way I’ll ever pass this shit” you whimpered out, letting your head hit the table. Normally, stupid and dramatic behavior like this would have annoyed the shit out of her but when you did it? Well it was kinda cute.

“Ok, let’s start new ok? We will start at zero and once you’re at one we will get something to eat?” At the word ‘eat’ you immediately perked up, sitting straighter to find new concentration.

It took over an hour for you to get to at least one but Leighton was sure that the hardest work was now done. Or at least she hoped. “So, cafeteria?” You asked as you stuffed all your books into your bag. You received a nod and took off, happy to finally get some food.

Since your first lesson Leighton helped you during class and like two times a week for an hour to four, depending on how fucked you were. And finally, you went from an E to a c- and you were getting even better. The connection between you and Leighton also got better from time to time, creating a strong and unexpected bond.

‘If I have to listen to any of my roommates even one more second, I’m going to kill all of them and then myself”

You couldn’t help but giggle at Leighton text, parents weekend was coming up again and it made her more nervous every day. And while she, even if she won’t admit, actually loved her roommates their chattiness and stuff could get to her.

‘Be outside your dorm in 2’

You texted back, quickly putting on your shoes and jacket before grabbing your wallet and car keys. In the matter of minutes you stood in front of a perfectly styled blonde who wore an annoyed look until she saw you. It was quickly being replaced with a smile as she walked toward you. “So, why’d you want me to be here?” She asked with a giddy voice, as she couldn’t wait to hear what you planned.

“Let’s go to my car and then I’ll tell you” you lead her to your jeep outside of the campus. “My lady” you grinned as you opened the door for her and stretched out your hand to help her inside.

“Thank you very much, such a gentleman. Sooo where are we going?” She studied your face as you pulled out of the parking lot.

“We are going to do something that relaxes you like nothing else”

“What?” She asked, quite confused.

“We are going shopping” you grinned as you drove on to the highway, “but we might have to drive like an hour or something, there’s nothing close that has your standards” her jaw fell as you stopped talking. She couldnt believe that you actually knew where she liked to shop and that you were just out here driving her there.

“You’re kidding right?” She asked, a squeal leaving her when she figured out that you were telling the truth. “That’s so sweet, thank you”

After over an hour of comfortable driving you finally parked your car near her favorite shops. “Alright princess, let’s go” you grinned as you opened the passenger door, your hand stretched out to help her out. “Where to first?”

Your first shop was YSL which leighton already left with two begs. Or rather you as you immediately took the bags so she could look around in the next shop which was Balenciaga and then Prada, Givenchy, Versace, Dior, Louis Vuitton, and Tom Ford.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry anything?” The blonde asked as she could barely see you underneath all the bags you carried for her. At least one of each brand, or rather at least two of each brand. She couldn’t deny that it was extremely cute, the way you did all of this for her.

“Positive. Are you sure you don’t wanna go anywhere else anymore?” You asked as she walked back to the car. If you were really quiet you could hear her credit card scream.

“Yeah, but maybe we could go and eat something at a real restaurant?”

“Sure, what did you have in mind?” You asked while putting the bags in the trunk, the blonde standing next to you. After she found a restaurant she liked you made your way there, even from the outside you could see that it was really fancy. “Are you sure I can go inside like this?” You weren’t dressed badly but definitely not as expensive as her which made you unsure of your outfit.

“Of course, you look good” the smile she sent you made your heart beat faster and your face flush a little red. “Now Let’s go, I’m starving” she was out of the car in the matter of seconds, waiting for you to join her. Once you left the car you walked next to each other, your hands constantly brushing against the other ones. You had heard that Leighton was not a big pda fan so you guessed that it was an accident. But you didn’t pull away in case of this being on purpose.

After you guys ate it was already late and the eventful day was catching up to her as she fell asleep in the car. You smiled at the sight, she looked a lot calmer than most of the time and you couldn’t see one bit of the stress from this morning. When you had to stop on a red light you retrieved your jacket from the backseat and put it over her to act like a blanket.

You carefully tapped her shoulder to wake her up which didn’t work. “Leighton, we are here. Cmon, wake up” you whispered and shook her shoulder.

“M awake” she grumbled as her eyes slowly opened.

“Good, take the time that I need to get your backs to wake up okay?” She gave you a small nod before you disappeared, wondering how you carried all those bags before. After you finally got each and every bag on you, you walked back to the passenger seat where Leighton was finally awake.

“Alright, let’s go” she jumped out of the car, your jacket now over her shoulders and her pinky linked with yours as she pulled you along to her dorm. “You can just put them down over there” she told you as she pointed to the corner next to her closet. “Thank you, a lot. The last days were really stressful and today made me forget about it” you smiled at her, taking a step forward.

“It was my pleasure. Weirdly, I can’t think of anything better than carrying your bags for you” she giggles shyly and also takes a step toward you. Your hand gravitates towards her waist while hers carefully rests on your shoulder. You leaned in further, your lips slightly touching as your hand tightened around her waist. But before you could do anything else, Bella came in.

“Leighton! Guess what” she started to scream out, making you pull away quickly. Your hands left her waist and were immediately pushed into your pockets. “Oh my god, did I just cockblock you?” The dark haired girl screamed even louder making both of you cringe.

“No, no you didn’t. I gotta go, I have class really early tomorrow. Thanks again Leigh and I’ll see you around Bella” you quickly left the room without looking back but you could still feel the blondes nerves.

You decided that you’d talk to her tomorrow, it was late and she probably had to listen to Bella ramble about whatever was going on. So tomorrow just seemed like the safer option, at least until it was later the next day and you still haven’t seen her. It was Friday which meant that you didn’t have a course with her and you were extremely busy. But as you were scared that she might think that you were trying to avoid her.

“Sad I didn’t see you today. Sorry I left so quickly, but I couldn’t stay after Bella said whatever she said. Can’t wait to see you again :)”

You took a deep breath before hitting send. By now you were scarred that she might be avoiding you and that she was actually very unhappy about the kiss. What you didn’t know was that Leightons heart started to beat faster when she saw your name pop up on her screen. She was scared of what might now be between you two after you left so suddenly.

“Whose text are you smiling at like that?” Whitney asked as they all sat in the common room. While she did try to annoy her roommate she was more than happy to see her friend like this.

“None of your business” she grumbled, her smile still being very apparent.

“Oh, I bet it’s y/n” Kimberly shyly added. She was good with Leighton but she sometimes still scared her.

“Gosh, they would be a hot ass couple. Y/n’s hot. Damn you’re a lucky lady” Bella said, slapping her hand on the blondes leg which made her glare at her.

“Remember how I said none of your business?” They all laughed as she returned to her phone.

“Get that, wished I could have left too. I thought you were avoiding me. I’ll see you tomorrow right? Are u bringing ur parents to math too?”

You immediately opened the chat, not giving a damn about seeming needy.

“Ofc, that’s the only reason they’re coming. Couldn’t dream of avoiding u, wanna meet up before math tomorrow?”

After you talked about when and where you’d meet tomorrow you texted her goodnight and went to sleep, your mind filled with pictures of the blonde.

The next morning you were up way too early but when your parents came you had to get ready a lot more than normally. “There you are y/n” your mother called out as she walked up to you with open arms, a fake smile on her face. You hugged all of them as a greeting before standing opposite of them.

“Alright, we will go to that parents thing and then we will come to your math class ok?” Your father didn’t wait for an answer as they walked away making you sigh. You, just as many others, were more than happy about this parents thing today. It gave you some peace and quiet.

Leighton was waiting for you in front of the lecture room, the new bag she bought with you slung over her shoulder. “Hey” you smiled shyly as walked up to her, her face adorned with a similar one.

“Hello” she looked around before continuing to talk, “I am so happy about this parent meeting. I was about to kill myself” you laughed nodding.

“You’re telling that to me? My parents asked about this course before asking about me. And I wish I were joking” both of you laughed before just staring at each other for a moment. In a moment of confidence the blonde pulled you into the empty room, she smiled brightly as she noticed that you happily followed.

The moment the door closed, your hands were on her hips and hers were cupping the back of your neck. You didn’t need any words before your lips crashed against each other, her scent developing you whole. Without breaking the kiss you guided her against the wall, her back making harsh contact with it. “Sorry” you mumbled when she gasped, barely breaking the kiss. You kept making out until the blondes phone started to ring.

“Let it ring” she mumbled when she noticed that you were pulling away. You laughed and tried to pull away again but she kept pulling you closer or chasing your lips.

“Leigh, I’d love to keep making out. Trust me. But our parents are gonna come soon and if I had to guess I’d say that this is your dad” you explained as you pulled away, your hands rubbing along her hips. She groaned before looking at her phone, seeing that you were right. With another groan she answered the phone, the arm around your neck keeping you close. Since you got bored when she was on the phone, you started to lightly kiss her neck up and down.

She bit her lip to stop her giggles, but she didn’t push you away. Instead she pulled you even closer, just waiting to hang up. When she finally did, she gave you a quick kiss. “My parents will be here in 10 minutes” she told you, her fingers playing with the baby hair on the back of your neck.

“Then we should probably fix your makeup and my hair huh?” You asked as one of your hands ran through your hair. When you received a nod you opened your hand for her to give you her pocket mirror so she could see what she was doing.

“You’re a great mirror holder babe” she joked when she was done freshening up her makeup and then fixed your hair for you.

“Babe?” You grinned watching her face fall and her confidence suddenly replaced with doubt.

“I mean- yeah, we are- I thought” you decided to interrupt her as her behavior freaked you out. A not confident Leighton was a new world.

“You thought right, I was just messing with you. Cmere” you pulled her closer for another kiss, that quickly turned into multiple small pecks.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N” your mothers voice suddenly rang.

Gosh, you were fucked.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #leighton murray x reader #renee rapp x reader #tslocg x reader

421 notes · View notes

angelnumbing · 8 months

Text

whether you like it or not, YES, obsessively reading love/your person/crush/FS/etc. tarot readings is bad for you.

even if you’re just reading them for fun (like i was), you have to really think about it. first, every reading you click on requires some kind of energetic connection with the reader. if you read/watch multiple of these things a day you’ve got a bunch of strangers all up in your energy all the time and that’s just not going to be a good thing. buying personal ones is included in this.

youtube randomly recommended me a video of a woman explaining that we as clients come to these readings because, most likely, our situations are so unfulfilling or confusing so we seek answers through tarot. this is natural imo and isn’t a sign of bad character or anything, but we have to accept that some things are meant to be a mystery to us. beyond that, a tarot reader (especially one doing PACs or collective readings) can only pick up on the energy of the querent. the other person’s energy cannot be picked up on without consent, which means that tarot readers read your energy and the way you interpret your person’s energy. this means that if you see your person as hot-and-cold and are holding onto hope for a connection that clearly isn’t working, the reader is going to tell you exactly what you’re thinking because the only way that 3rd party person’s energy can be accessed is through the footprint it leaves in your aura.

not only does this mean that — if you consume these readings often — you’re consistently getting told a false one-sided narrative, but it also inherently establishes its own reward system that keeps you coming back for me. for example, you tell yourself that your person likes you (and maybe they do!) but they’re scared of their feelings for you which is why they ghost you. when you receive a reading that says this, it affirms to you that you were right, and the reading was “accurate”. worse than that, these readings and your dependency on them can easily be used to justify clinging on to a relationship or connection that isn’t working. your person goes cold and you run to a tarot reading basically to be told that there is some hope, actually, and now instead of dealing with the difficult feelings that come with romantic disappointment and growing through that, you’re stuck in the stagnant state of waiting for reality to match up to the picture in your head. realistically, the healthiest thing for you to do is move on from this person and work on yourself.

this isn’t to say that all tarot readings are terrible, because i don’t think that at all. tarot can definitely be a great tool for self-discovery and just for getting some direction in life. i also don’t think there’s a problem with doing love readings for yourself as long as it’s not constant and obsessive.

if you find yourself looking for affirmation from these readings, you should instead shift your focus to readings about your shadow self, where you need to grow and heal, and other things like that. we cling on to these lackluster connections because of something in our past that makes disappointing people attractive to us. i know a lot of you on here are very defensive about your precious PAC readings, but the fact of the matter is that you read them because either your love life is nonexistent and you have to consume what is essentially self-insert fanfiction to cope (i’m not coming for you bc i’m in that camp) OR you do have some connection with someone but they are falling short or disappointing you in such a way that direct communication is not possible and you have to turn to an outside source for some kind of answer.

at the end of the day, if you actually care about yourself, you’re going to have to do the (very hard) work of finding security in yourself and who you are. these readings and any relationships you have or aspire to have are never going to replace that. and frankly a few of you seem to put too much weight on the meaning of these readings. i remember someone said they don’t bother to put any effort into their current relationships anymore because they “know” their current partner isn’t the one bc it doesn’t match up to what they’ve read in FS readings. at some point you need to use your common sense. the readings get hundreds of notes and thousands of views and there’s no way you can rationally justify making decisions like that based off of something meant to apply to everyone who watches and not just you specifically.

i’m making this post because i’ve stopped consuming readings like this and i actually feel so much better mentally and spiritually. they actually are fully capable of making you completely delusional as well, which in some contexts isn’t exactly a bad thing but it’s not a great state to be in when it comes to your interpersonal relationships. ultimately i hope that i’m able to at least of few other people break their pattern and kickstart a genuine healing journey.

i don’t use this app often, tbh so if you get mad in my replies you might as well take it up with god because i’m not looking and if i am looking i’m not caring at the same time. toodles!!

#pick a card #pac #tarot #pac reading #idk what else to tag. who gaf.

874 notes · View notes

insane-brit · 1 year

Text

Royalty (Ch. 1)

Muzan Kibutsuji x Soulmate!fem!reader

Part links: Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three

Tags/warnings: Dialogue, slow burn, dark story/themes, enemies to lovers (or maybe just enemies. who knows), spoilers for Mugen Train Arc, slight spoilers for Entertainment District Arc, slight jealousy, talks of death, worry, anxiety, past memory, some pain, masking worry with optimism.

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love on the Prologue. I am excited to continue this story and feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters. This story will be a slow burn as I don’t want to rush it.

Also, I plan to stray from the canon story as this is a fanfic and AU, but will loosely have parts of the canon story incorporated.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word count: 2.5K

“That little girl is not even 8 yet! She shouldn’t be feeling this way Sakonji!” The older woman whispered.

“I know, but there’s not much you can do.”

“Not much I can do? Well, there must be something! I’m not going to stand idly by and watch my granddaughter’s mind deteriorate!”

Hina’s eyes drilled into the angry red mask. She was at a loss, and no one knew how to aid her. There weren’t many people she could go to, much less that she trusted, but out of anyone she thought Urokodaki would have something for her.

“What do you expect me to do Hina? Call upon the spirits and command them to give her a bond? I understand that this is devastating, but that is not how this works.”

The lantern burned low in the hut. A mere hour or two of fuel left before it would cast the room into darkness. The two adults sat next to each other, and farther in front of them, a little girl lay on a dark futon seemingly sound asleep. A lighter-colored blanket covered her form up to her neck, her back facing them. Hina lowered her head to her hand, palm raised to cover her eyes.

“Don’t take me for an idiot. I just don’t know what to do. How do I explain to her that she may never receive a thread?”

Urokodaki remained silent looking at the sleeping child. Turning his head barely to look at the woman.

“You be direct. False truths will only cause more pain in the end.”

She took a sharp breath in, letting the hand fall from her face and onto her lap with a faint smack. “You’re telling me what I don’t want to hear.”

“I know, but you already knew what I was going to say. Now it’s up to you to inform her. I refuse to be the one to do so.”

She paused, looking at her granddaughter before nodding her head.

He gently put his hand on her back, an attempt at consolation. “Get some rest. You traveled a long way and need your energy for the journey home.” He stood up, walking over to the door before turning to look at her sitting form. “I won't be long. Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”

Hina lightly scoffed at his remark, rolling her eyes as he closed the door softly behind him. She scooted over to the little girl, leaning down and placing a kiss on the side of her head.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry fate has treated you this way,” She brushed some hair away from the girl’s face. “But I know in my heart you’ll do great things. Soul tie or not.”

Hina turned over, snuffing the lantern out before laying down herself. Unbeknownst to her, her granddaughter opened her eyes, gazing at what little she could see of the wooden walls. Her eyes were dull as the conversation between Urokodaki, and her grandmother circled in her mind. May never get one? Why? Did she do something wrong? Did-

“Hey… are you even listening to me?”

A hand waved in front of her face, knocking her from her stupor. Startled, she whipped her head to gaze at the white-haired man stationed next to her. His fuchsia eyes glowered at her form, which was off in its dream world.

“Yeah,” she blinked a few times. “I’m listening.”

The former smile on his face was downturned. His eyes narrowed as he raised an eyebrow.

“You know, you're a terrible liar, and it’s not very flashy of you.”

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Tengen, I don’t need a lecture. Especially from you.”

Hands raised in defense; he leaned back against the stone in front of the Butterfly Mansion. The sun’s rays reached far into the sky as it lowered itself on the horizon. Igniting the land in warmth and an array of rich tones. It was almost blinding, and she raised her hand to shield her eyes. The Sound Hashira hummed next to her; eyes closed with a small smile on his face. Ever since the arrival of Tanjiro Kamado and his younger demon sister, Nezuko, tensions were high among the slayers. As much as she wanted to think she wasn’t wary at first, the Echo Hashira would be deceiving herself if she did. However, with the bittersweet victory of the Mugen Train, her judgment of the small slayers had shifted. She supposed Tomioka was right to have given them a chance, but it amazed her that it was him of all people. She would have to show her gratitude to him but at a different time.

The death of Kyojuro Rengoku following the defeat of Lower Moon One exhibited the harsh reality of their day-to-day life. She was cognizant of the dangers and death that danced in their shadows, but this was another kind of pain. A wound that wouldn’t stay closed and leaked as if weeping for the fallen Pillar. Which she did often alone late at night. No one was around to see her walls barren, unguarded and splayed for anyone to see the rising tide that was her emotions. While she wasn’t as close to the Flame Hashira as she would’ve desired, she knew him well enough to call him her friend. Tengen on the other hand, was closer to Kyojuro than anyone. On a handful of occasions, she had caught him mourning. She never approached him in these moments no matter how close they were. It felt too raw and private, and if he knew she had seen him, he never confronted her about it.

“Were you thinking about your bond again?” Tengen said cracking one eye open.

“When am I not?”

“So, you were thinking about it!” He teased, a wider smile gracing his features.

“Bold of you to assume that’s the only thing on my mind.” She grumbled massaging her temple. Tengen was the only person besides the Master, Urokodaki, and her grandmother to know that she didn’t have a soul tie. It is well known that bonds form in the early stages of life and it has never been heard of to have one materialize after 5 years of age. However, it has also never been heard of not having one at all. At least, until she never got one. She waited for years, staring intensely at her wrist to see the red thread assemble itself before her eyes. Stretching to the one that was supposedly meant for her, but it never came. Over the years she had wishful thinking that dwindled to a mere flame that had eventually snuffed itself out. There was no point in longing for one when she was now at the ripe age of 22. Her time had come and gone, but regardless of saying that, deep down she still hoped. Why? She had no idea, but it constantly plagued her. Even more so, she had no idea why she decided Tengen out of all people was the one to confide this information to. The Master, Urokodaki, and her grandmother made sense, but him? She’s surprised he hasn’t run that mouth of his. The anxiety she felt at anyone else knowing weighed on her mind daily. She did not doubt that people would find it taboo, no matter how progressive the world became.

Tengen sighed at her words. “I assumed nothing. I only made an observation and I have no doubt there are more worries in that head of yours.”

“And what about you? Don’t you have your own? What about Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru?”

“I haven’t heard from them,” she turned to look at him as he spoke. “Their letters stopped coming a while back.”

Silence rose between the two of them. She could see the conflict in Tengen’s eyes. He cared greatly for his wives as they did him. She had met them a few times and saw first-hand just how important and beautiful their relationship was. Lucky bastard. Though his family was known for having multiple soul ties. She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy, but happiness for all four of them.

“Will you be going to look for them?”

“Yes,” he grunted standing up from the cobble where they both were sitting. “You can come along if you want. I could use that breathing style of yours.”

She stood up alongside him, wincing, her back aching from the firm ground. Aoi and the others would have her head knowing that she wasn’t maintaining her health in light of recent events.

“That all depends on the Master, but I would be happy to lend a hand,” the corners of her lips upturned slightly as she looked at him and then at the darkening sky. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Despite his growing smile, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Great! I need to gather a few more items,” he drawled, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “But then we should be ready to head out in a few days.”

She shook her head. Whatever was going on in that bare brain of his she sincerely hoped it was something good, but she didn’t pry.

“I think I’ll go on ahead of you. I can see if I can get any leads on those three and meet up with you in Yoshiwara.”

“Come on,” Tengen groaned. “I would like to have someone I like to talk to travel with me.”

She shook her head in defiance. “You know my breathing style does better when I’m alone. It’s not as big of a risk, and I don’t think the Sound Pillar”- she pointed at him- “wants to lose his hearing.”

They both smiled at each other, a few breathy laughs escaping from their mouths. Her style, Echo breathing, relied on high frequencies that were known to be a danger to group efforts. There have been more than a handful of accidents in the past, many she’s not proud of, which is why the executive decision was made for her to do missions alone. However, Master Kagaya occasionally granted her to travel in the company of others. It did get quite lonely at times, but she preferred the safety of others over satisfying the sociable aspect of herself.

Tengen hummed, “I suppose you’re right. Though, it would be a very extravagant way to retire. Having a comrade kill off my hearing.”

She kicked some stones his way. “I’ll let you know what the Master says. If granted, I’ll leave at dawn, but for now, I’m going to get some well-deserved rest.”

He let out a loud laugh and gestured some form of what she assumed to be a goodnight. “If not, I’ll drag you there myself.” He exclaimed before strutting off to who knows where.

She studied him as he disappeared into the estate’s shadows. He couldn’t fool her. Despite his optimistic exterior, he was terrified. She could recognize that kind of spirit anywhere as many of the same haunted her. And for his sake, she hoped that those three were alive. If they were to perish, she didn’t think he would ever recover. He would be a shell of a man and taper off into misery. She couldn’t bear to see his downfall.

--------------------------------------------------------

Lying in her room in the mansion, the Echo Pillar was restless. Sleep evaded her and instead, her psyche was infested with dread. Shinobu had been kind enough to offer her residence temporarily following her previous assignment, along with Aoi and the butterfly girls helping her in any way they could. She was forever in their debt and thinking of them brought a smile to her face despite the growing pit in her stomach.

Earlier, her crow had returned with word from Master Kagaya. Said message permitting her to venture out to Yoshiwara, a red-light district all too familiar. It’s not that she had any history with the district, but rather passed through it on multiple occasions. Therefore, becoming acquainted more than she ever thought she would. Lucky for her, that will come in handy.

What she didn’t understand was why she was filled with apprehension. It was like her body and mind were working against her. This had only ever been a problem when she was a beginner slayer, but as she rose in the ranks she learned to deal with these sentiments. Fear was a constant. It never went away, but confidence and vengeance outweighed it in every circumstance. So why was it so prominent now?

Sighing, she turned her head to gaze at the aperture that granted the moon entry. Its rays highlighted every surface in a delicate glow. Night, despite its tendency to harbor barbaric creatures was a time she always looked forward to. The darkness leaked like ink and grasped at the innocent, but it provided comfort to those in need. She could never loathe it.

Her muscles ached. No position good enough to lull her into unconsciousness’s sweet embrace. Abruptly, what felt like a fire erupted down her arm. Its path licked under her pallid flesh and burned away at her veins. Sitting up faster than ever before, she clutched her forearm. Biting the inside of her cheek so hard, iron filled her mouth in a matter of seconds. Nails dug into tender flesh as something slithered through her arm. Confusion swarmed her mind. Was this from the previous demon she fought? There was no way, that thing’s blood demon art couldn’t have done this. It would’ve already taken effect and finished her off by now. Regardless, she was dangerously close to finding a solution to the rapidly growing pain. Tucking her arm, she hoisted herself onto her knees. Her head ducked low and her eyes went wide, her skin felt clammy. Under the palm of her hand that was grasping her arm, a deep red glow oozed out. Limbs shook as she slowly raised her hand away from the skin. The vessels excreted a scarlet substance under the complexion of her arm. Spreading agonizingly slow towards the wrist. Her breathing grew heavy as terror’s maw tore her insides, and through a clouded mind, she watched as a thread, red as wine, circled her wrist. It traveled through her fingers caressing them before pulling taught. The tightening in her arm caused her to clench her fist. The thread continued, creeping around her extremity before elongating to the slightly cracked door. Its length was ongoing. A feeling of bliss stroked up her arm replacing the pain and she let out a shuttering breath. The thread pulsed and she could feel it dilating under her skin.

Pure shock all but made her heart stop. “How…how is this possible?”

She gently rubbed the thread between the pads of her fingers. Its texture was coarse and some of the bristles pricked her skin.

She finally had the sanctified bond she had always longed for.

Her other half.

Her soulmate.

443 notes · View notes

stopaskinf · 29 days

Text

Drunk Dude in the Bathroom

(Hoshi x fem!black!reader)

Summary: The title really says it all. You try to go piss during a party and find Hoshi crying in the bathroom.

Genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers???, college AU

Word count: Around 0.8K

CW: none fr, mentions of drinking, crying and bodily functions. Hoshi being a cornball who thinks you’re hot.

You need to piss. The combination of drinks and getting distracted by music at this party was terrible for your bladder.

You ask your friend Youngji where the bathroom is. She knows way more about this place than you do.

“Its upstairs near the left. Can’t miss it!” She practically screams.

You give her a thumbs up as you start walking up the steps. Heels were a bad option. After an eternity, You finally reach the bathroom, thank god. If you had to hold it a second longer, you would have pissed on the floor. However, as soon as you open the door, you’re met with muffled blubbering from behind the shower curtain.

Throwing caution to the wind, you open the curtain to find a handsome and drunk blonde man holding a bag of ice like a well-loved childhood plushie.

“Umm…You good?”

He sniffles and loosens his grip on the ice bag. He looks up at you with puffy eyes, unshed tears still shining.

“Yes-no..I..just-did you know most tiger cubs don’t survive their first year of life?” He cries.

What the fuck. He’s clearly gone.

“...I did not know that.” You say baffled.

“Hey, why are you in-”

“You’re so pretty.” He says glossy-eyed.

Your face goes hot.

“Thank you, but listen-” You stutter out.

“Like super pretty, like you look like Naomi Campbell mixed with Megan thee Stallion.”

High praise.

“That's very sweet of you.” You give a shy smile.

He gives a toothy smile while he blushes.

“You’re welcome, pretty lady.” He cheeses.

Ok. You’re getting off track. You still need to piss. You’ve got to get this guy out of the bathroom.

“Hey, what’s your sign?” He asks as he shifts in the tub to get more comfortable.

He treats it like a children sized bed.

“I-I’m an aquarius.” You answer puzzled.

He lets go of his bag of ice and flaps his arms while making an excited squealing noise.

“Oh my god, oh my god, that explains everything!”

Does it?

“Yknow that explains why you’re so pretty! Aquariuses’ are always so like otherworldly. Real goddess energy. OOOOHH and we’re compatible cause I’m a Gemini! Air signs for the win!” He practically yells as he stumbles to get up from the tub and give you a high five? A hug? You’re not sure. Either way, he ends up wobbling and almost falling face first out of the tub. So, in an act of quick thinking, you catch him.

“Bro, are you good?” You ask worriedly. He’s really fucking gone.

He ends up hugging you, either in an attempt to keep himself steady or to bask in your warmth. You’re not sure.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just had a little too much to drink. By the way, you smell crazy good. What perfume do you use? And your skin is so soft! What products are you using? Also, are you seeing anyone? I don’t want to be a creep, but I hate to get you in trouble and you’re really cute.”

You chuckle as you hold him. It should feel uncomfortable holding a 6-foot stranger in a small bathroom, but he makes it feel natural.

“ I can tell that much just by looking at you. First, It’s a Valentino one, I forgot the name. Second, Shea butter. Third, no.”

You feel him hold you tighter and give out a small “yay” as he nuzzles into you.

“Oh my god, you know what would slap right now?” he says as he excitedly grabs your shoulders.

“What?” You ask.

“Well, first, some chicken nuggets. God, I’m starving. DK never has any actual food in the dorms and it sucks balls. He’s still a great guy though, I’ll have to introduce you two later. Oh, I totally forgot, we’re also roomies, so, you’ve probably already seen him. Lanky dude, sharp nose, great teeth?” He rambles.

“He sounds familiar.”

You feel his hands grab your face, you feel the cold metal of his rings contrast his warm hands and your hot face.

“Yeah that’s him. Oh my god, wait, I also want an Oreo McFlurry. When does Mcdonalds close?” He asks excitedly while slowly stroking your face.

“Aren’t they open 24 hours?”

He gasps and his eyes shine. He squeals and sways you both back and forth while holding your face in his hands.

“You’re so right! Sexy, strong, and smart! The big 3 S’s! We totally need to go! Please?” He pleads.

You give a soundless laugh and nod your head. This is definitely going to be a good night.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you #seventeen drabbles #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #non idol au #idol x reader

62 notes · View notes

cozage · 9 months

Text

The Daughter's Return: Stories from the Vault

Some old stories from when you were a kid! This is LONG but its eight short stories from various ages of the readers life!

For those of you that might be reading for the first time, this is a prequel to The Daughter’s Return, but you can read it independently if you’re just looking for cute little stories!

This idea was sent to me by anonymous! CW: some mentions of child abuse (in Age 5 story and Age 11 Story) Word Count: 7.3k Part One | Next Chapter | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Magic - Age 5

You had gotten hopelessly lost. You had told Marco you knew your way back to the ship, and you had stormed off. He was taking too long. And now you weren’t sure which way to turn. You had a great sense of direction at sea, but it didn’t seem to be the same on land.

Some men were talking nearby. They looked a little rough, but that never deterred your father from talking to people, and it wouldn't deter you. “Excuse me,” you said, and the men immediately stopped talking. “I think I’m lost.”

“Lost, huh?” The man with a scar on his cheek chuckled. “Too bad, kid. We’re busy.”

“But-”

“Hang on, Tank,” the man without teeth said. “I know her from somewhere.”

The two exchanged glances, and then crouched down to your level. You knew they would help if you asked.

“Where you gotta get to, little girl?” Tank asked.

“The docks,” you explained. “My dad has a ship.”

Both of their eyes got wide, and they looked at each other once again.

“Say kid, what’s your dad's name?” Tank licked his lips. “Wouldn’t happen to be Whitebeard, would it?”

“That’s it!” you cried out. “You know him?”

“Yeah,” the other man said. “We’re good friends. In fact, we were just about to give him this too.”

The man held up a strange-looking fruit. You weren’t sure what your father would do with a fruit. There were plenty of normal fruits on the ship already. Maybe it was special. Maybe it was magical. It certainly looked magical.

“Let’s go, kid,” Tank said. He grabbed your hand and gripped it firmly. It was almost painful, but you didn’t complain. You didn’t want to be in more trouble.

The three of you walked for a long time, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were going further into the island. You were now in the middle of the jungle, and you guessed that the men were lost now too. You should’ve stuck with Marco. This was getting complicated.

“Listen Sunny, I don’t got a good feeling about this,” Tank mumbled, his eyes on you.

“What are you talking about? Listen, the N-”

“Shush! Not around the kid! She’s worth 10 million berries for a reason!”

“Hey kid,” Sunny said looking at you. “You stand right here and don’t move. We’ll be right back.”

He placed the fruit on a log nearby, and the two of them walked a couple of yards away to speak privately.

You knew you should spend your time listening in on their conversation, but you couldn’t stop staring at the black fruit in front of you. It was like it was alive, the undertones of the fruit shifting in color from yellow to orange to red, and then back again. It had to be magical.

You weren’t sure how you ended up beside it, or how it ended up in your hands. You were mesmerized by it. It would make a good gift for your father, but you wanted nothing more than to try it yourself first. Just a small piece. It wouldn’t even be noticeable. You closed your eyes and took a small bite.

It took everything you had not to gag. This was a terrible gift. It tasted horrible. You chewed, and then swallowed, and finally began coughing from the horrid taste of it. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this.

“Hey! What the hell are you-” Sunny’s eyes got wide, and you heard him scream out a string of curses.

“Spit it out, you devil!” Tank screamed, running at you. “We can’t sell that to the Navy if you eat it!”

The Navy? No, this fruit was supposed to be going to your father. They had told you that.

Sunny got to you first, and he slapped you hard across the face. Your skin stung, and you could feel tears rising in your eyes. But you held onto the strange fruit. You refused to let it go now. It was your magic fruit.

“You little bitch!” Sunny screamed, shaking you like a rag doll. “You ruined everything! We were going to make a fortune off of that!”

“Sunny, relax,” Tank reasoned. “We can still turn the kid in. The Navy will give us more since she’s got powers now.”

“The Navy?” You were confused. “You were supposed to take me to my dad.”

“We hunt pirates. Which is what you are,” Sunny sneered. “You’re going straight to Naval Headquarters, kid. They’ll probably kill you the moment you arrive.”

“No.” You could feel tears rising, and you took a step back, trying to get away from them. “No. I want to go to my dad.”

“Get her, Tank.”

Tank’s large arms reached for you, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You let out a loud shriek, hoping to attract someone-anyone-who might help. You held your magic fruit tight and felt a strange pull in your stomach, but you refused to open your eyes.

You couldn’t hear Tank and Sunny anymore, or anything for that matter. Everything seemed eerily quiet, even though you were in the middle of the forest.

When you finally opened your eyes, it looked like a bomb had gone off around you. You were standing in a hardened lava flow that stretched out at least 100 yards on every side of you. There were no signs of trees or grass, only blackened volcanic rock.

You heard the familiar flap of wings above you, and Marco dropped down in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, checking your body for any sign of injury. You flinched when he touched your cheek, still sore from Sunny’s slap. “Who did this to you?”

“Nobody,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. You couldn’t let him know you had gotten lost. You couldn’t let him know you had gotten hurt.

His eyes scanned the surrounding area, clearly in disbelief at the power emitted. “Who did this?”

“I don’t know.” You wiped at your eyes. Your throat hurt from screaming so much.

Suddenly Marco’s entire body got tense, and he pulled your magical fruit out from your hands, examining it.

“It’s for dad.” You sniffled. “That’s what the guys said.”

“What guys?” His eyes found the small bite you had taken, and they grew wide. “Did you eat this?”

You took a step back from him, afraid he might hit you too. Marco had never hit you before, but the fruit seemed to make people do crazy things.

“No,” you lied, trying your hardest not to cower.

“Y/N. Did you eat this?!” He shoved the fruit in your face, pointing to the tiny bite you had taken.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, falling to your knees. “Please don’t hit me. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Marco’s voice was instantly soft again, making you cry even more. “I’ve got you, kid. You’re safe.”

“It looked so good,” you cried. You let him pick you up, and you cried into his shoulder. “But it was so yucky.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing your back. “They’re not very yummy, I know.”

“I want to go home.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he took flight into the sky, holding you and your magic fruit tightly.

You must’ve fallen asleep mid-flight, because when you woke up, Marco was still holding you, but you were now on a boat. Home.

“What kind of fruit?” Your father whispered.

“Some kind with lava properties, it appears. There was a huge explosion, and I found her surrounded by hundreds of feet of cooled lava on all sides.”

“Hundreds?” Your father sounded skeptical.

“I can take you back to the place I found her, if you’d like to see.”

The thought of going back to Tank and Sunny made you let out an involuntary whimper, and you squeezed Marco’s neck. “Please don’t make me go back to the bad men. I won’t leave your side again, Marco. Promise.”

“The bad men?” Your father asked.

“Can you tell us about them?” Marco asked, prying you from him and setting you on the ground.

“They said they were bringing me and the fruit back to you,” you explained. “But when I ate the magic fruit, they got really mad at me and then they disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” your father asked, “Disappeared how?”

“I dunno. I closed my eyes and screamed and when I opened them they were gone.”

Your father gave Marco a quick glance of concern, and then turned his attention back to you.

“I’m just glad you’re safe, punk.” You father stretched out his hands and you ran to him, clamoring up onto his lap.

“You’re not mad?” you asked, looking up at him with big, watery eyes. “Even though I ate your fruit?”

“It’s your fruit now.” Your father laughed. “What’s it called?”

“The Vulcan-Vulcan fruit,” you said instantly, though you weren’t sure how you knew it. “Am I magic now like you and Marco?”

Your father gave you a big grin, pulling you in for a tight hug. “You sure are! But we're going to have to teach you how to use that magic, okay?”

“Okay!”

---

Trouble - Age 7

Marco pulled open the doors to the supply closet, and bent his head down to make eye contact with you.

“Whatcha doin' in here, kid?” he asked, seeing the guilt written all across your face.

“Hiding.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I’m gonna be in trouble.”

He smirked. So you had caused that fire at the base of the main mast. “Mind if I join you?”

You shook your head, and he climbed in next to you and shut the cabinet door behind him. The two of you sat there in the dark, him waiting for you to speak.

“I didn’t mean to,” you finally whispered. “I just got mad.”

“What are we supposed to do when people make us mad?”

“They were laughing at me. Calling me princess and making fun of me. I tried to ignore them, Marco. I promise I did try!”

“They’re not trying to be mean,” Marco explained, but you shook your head.

“They were being mean! They weren’t being funny-mean like you or Thatch or Izou! They were just being mean!” You could feel the magma under your skin start to churn, making it feel like a thousand bugs were crawling across your skin. A slight glow came from you as you shifted in discomfort, illuminating the closet.

“Deep breaths. I don’t want this stuff to catch on fire too.”

You let out a small sob and buried your head in your knees. “Now you’re being mean! Just leave me alone!”

“I’m just teasing,” Marco said, putting his hand on your shoulder. He sucked in a breath at the heat you were emitting, but he didn’t remove his hand.

“I hate this power,” you cried. “I can’t control it! It’s stupid and it just keeps hurting people!”

“Breathe with me,” Marco said. You heard him take a deep breath in, and you followed his lead. When he breathed out, you did. When he breathed in, you did.

After a few minutes, you could feel your body starting to relax, the magma beneath your skin stilling, and peace returning once again.

“Can I just give this power back?” you asked. “It’s been two years and I can’t figure it out. I’m failing.”

“You’re not failing,” Marco said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “You’re learning.”

---

Nap - Age 8

You preferred to sleep in your father’s study during the day. Marco always made you take a nap, but you didn’t really need naps anymore. You were getting too old for that.

But, when you were “asleep” in your father’s study, sometimes you got to hear top secret reports. Things only the reporter and Pops knew about. And you, but nobody knew that. So you didn’t mind nap time too much, as long as you got to be in his office.

Today had been boring, though. No reports at all. Just your father working quietly at his desk, the scratch of pen against paper slowly lulling you to sleep.

And then the door creaked open.

“Pops,” a man whispered. “We found it.”

Your father’s pen stopped moving, and your ears perked up as you laid against the cot in the back of his office.

“Found what?” Your father asked.

“The fruit.”

“Is it safe?”

The man sighed, coming into the room and taking a seat at the desk. “It’s with a kid.”

Your father paused, and you could sense him trying to figure out if you were asleep or not. You steadied your breathing and your heart rate as best you could, keeping your entire body still.

You heard him shift back in his chair, his attention turned to the crewmate in front of him. “A kid?”

“He just started sailing in the North Blue. Just a teenager. Trafalgar Law.”

“How the hell did a kid get his hands on a fruit like that? And where in the North Blue?”

“We believe he’s from Flevance.”

“Flevance!?” Your father’s voice was louder from disbelief, causing you to flinch. He lowered it again instantly, aware of your presence and not wanting to wake you. “So he’s a walking corpse. It's just a matter of time.”

“That’s the thing, sir. We have reason to believe he’s been cured.”

“With immortality? That’s not how the Ope-Ope fruit works. Someone else has to-”

“We’ve confirmed he’s the one in possession of the Ope-Ope ability. We believe he used it to cure himself.”

“Incredible,” your father breathed out. “He was just a kid when it went missing. He was that knowledgeable at such a young age?”

“It appears that way. But all files about Flevance have been destroyed, so there’s no record of his family.”

“I see.” Your father hummed, trying to weigh a decision. “Have we sent people to him? To invite him to join us?”

“He didn’t seem interested.”

“But he’s not hostile?”

“Unclear,” the man said. “We have reports that he used to be a part of the Donquixote Family, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.”

“Any idea what caused the split?”

“No,” the man said. “But reports say Trafalgar disappeared the same time another member did. Code name Corazon.”

“Damn that Doflamingo,” your father cursed. “He makes a mess wherever he goes.”

“What should we do, Pops? Want us to bring him in anyway?”

“No,” he said immediately. “Leave him alone. Seems like that kid has been through enough. Just keep tabs on him, and let me know when he enters the Grand Line.”

“Sure thing. You sure that’s all you want to do? The Ope-Ope fruit-”

“Belongs to Trafalgar. He decides what to do with it. We should respect that.”

“Alright.” You heard the door creak open and shut once again.

“You are never to tell anyone what you just heard.” Your father’s voice was dangerously serious; so much that it caused the hairs to stand up on your neck. “Never. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

“Good.” He went back to writing.

You tried to sleep, but your mind couldn’t stop wandering to the boy in the North Blue. You wondered if he was nice. You wondered if you’d ever meet him. You hoped your paths would cross some way one day.

---

Stargazing - Age 9

“Marco!”

“I’m busy tonight.” The first division ruffled your hair playfully. “It’s late anyway, you should go to sleep.”

“But-!”

“Go on! It’s going to get crazy here in a bit anyway,” Marco said. “You know how Pops feels about you being out during party nights.”

“That’s not fair,” you pouted. “I’m still part of the crew. I should be able to party.”

“Maybe when you’re in double digits,” Marco jested.

“Really?!”

“Go!”

Thatch peeked his head in the door. “How about you come hang with me, squirt?”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “I’m not a squirt!”

“Of course. How could I forget?” He gave you a deep bow. “Your majesty.”

You giggled at his actions, already forgetting about Marco. “Take me to the kitchen, Mister Knight!”

“Gladly.” He scooped you up and dangled you upside down, causing you to squeal in delight.

“No, Thatch! Not like that!” you giggled, squirming in his grasp.

“Sorry madam, I can’t seem to hear you,” he said, shaking you and causing you to squeal even louder. “You said just like that?”

You erupted into another round of squeals and giggles, and he escorted you from the room to the kitchen upside down. When you arrived at the kitchen, he easily tossed you into the air and set you on the seat in front of the stove. “What would you like, O’ Princess of the Seas?”

It’s the name that had been coined for you across the Grand Line ever since your bounty shot up to 200 million. Daughter of Whitebeard: Princess of the Seas. You had a love/hate relationship with it, but when the commanders said it, you thought it sounded quite nice.

“Ice cream!” you called, a glint in your eye.

“Aw, come on!” Thatch complained. “You know you can’t have that this late.”

You gave him the biggest pouty face and sweetest doe eyes you could muster. “Just this time?”

He let out a chuckle and shook his head. “You’re devious, kid. Devious.” Bending down, he pulled out two bowls and an ice cream scooper. You immediately dropped the act, a huge smile appearing across your face.

“Can we do chocolate?” you asked hopefully.

“Might as well,” Thatch sighed, opening the freezer. “You better eat all the vegetables I give you tomorrow.”

“I’ll help you make them, if you want!” You were bouncing up and down in your seat in anticipation.

Thatch groaned at your excitement. “I’m gonna pay for this, I can tell.” Regardless, he scooped out two heaping scoops for you, and two for him.

He slid the bowl across to you, and you immediately dug in. He watched you in humor for a few bites, and then began eating his own. “How’s your training coming?”

“I’ve almost got the hang of it!” you said proudly. “I can practice small stuff on the ship now.”

Thatch laughed. “You’re not a fire hazard anymore?”

You smiled at his half-joke. “Only sometimes.”

“Good to hear.” He glanced down at your already empty bowl and smiled, impressed with your eating skills. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Wait!” You threw your hands up, begging him to stop. “Can’t we do something else? Please Uncle Thatch?”

It was a desperate attempt, you knew that. But the commanders always melted when you called them uncle. It was the easiest trick in the book, yet they bent to it every time.

You could see a slight rose color dust across Thatch’s cheeks, and you knew you had succeeded.

“Fine, fine! Come on, I think tonight will be a good night.”

“A good night for what?” you asked, but he just picked you up and set you on his strong, broad shoulders, silently carrying you out onto the deck.

It was loud outside. You had to cover your ears from all the music and the screaming. But Thatch didn’t head toward the party. He turned and the two of you snuck up the stairs to the back of the ship.

It was significantly quieter back here, like someone had placed a wall between you all and the party. He set you down at the very back of the boat, and laid down next to you.

“What are you doing?” you stood over him, pouting downward.

Thatch just laughed. “You’re looking the wrong way, kid.” He pointed to the sky. “Look up.”

You followed his finger upward, and found a sky more full of stars than you had ever seen before.

“Woah,” you breathed out, full of amazement and wonder. “There’s so many.”

“Lay down.” He patted the deck next to him, and you did what you were told. “If you watch closely, you might see a shooting star.”

“Really?” you gasped, your eyes scanning the sky even more intensely. You were attempting to look at every place at once, desperate to find what he had promised.

“Just pick a piece of the sky and watch it,” Thatch advised. “You’ve really never done this?”

“A few times,” you admitted. “But the sky has never looked this radent.”

“Radiant,” Thatch corrected, a smile on his lips. “Guessing you read that in one of your books.”

“Yeah. Sometimes-oh! There!” you pointed to the streak of light across the sky. “Did you see that one!?”

“Yeah! Good eye,” Thatch noted. “You’re very observant.”

“Dad says I’ll make a good strategist.”

Thatch glanced over at you. “Do you want to be a strategist?”

“I think so.” You kept your eyes on the sky. “I don’t know though. Sometimes it’s overwhelming to think that much.”

“You seem to like correcting Marco in the meetings.”

“Well, he doesn’t think of all the things he should!” Thatch laughed at your comment, but he didn’t say anything more.

“There’s another one!” you cried after a few moments, pointing at the sky.

“Gah! I missed it! Well, make a wish.”

“A wish?” you asked. You hadn’t heard of that before.

“It’s a thing you do in the North Blue. If nobody else sees the shooting star, you make a wish and they say it’ll come true.”

“But it won’t actually come true, right?” you reasoned. That was silly.

Thatch just shrugged. “Might as well try. What does it hurt?”

And so you closed your eyes and thought about what you wanted to wish for. A friend. That would be nice. One your own age. One who you could play games with and laugh with and tell secrets too. You wished for a friend.

“I made my wish,” you said, opening your eyes again.

“Don’t tell me what it was. You have to keep it a secret.”

“Okay,” you agreed. You watched the sky for a little while longer, but you didn’t see any more shooting stars. You must’ve used them all up on your wish. “Hey Thatch?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks for never making fun of me. Like when I mess up or stuff.”

“Why would I make fun of you?” he asked. You could hear the confusion in his voice.

“Some people do. But you don’t. So…thanks.”

“Sure, kid. Let me know if I ever hurt your feelings or I accidentally make fun of you, okay?” He sighed, and you could hear that he was struggling to stay awake. “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.”

“I like stargazing,” you said, your eyes starting to droop.

“Me too, kid.”

---

Friend - Age 11

You were eleven when your wish came true. You wished on several stars since that first one, an overwhelming amount of them were spent on a friend your age. And there she was. Standing in front of you. She was slightly taller than you, and maybe a year or two older. But she would do.

“This is Whitey,” your father said, introducing you to the new girl. “She’s joining the crew as your new sister, so make her feel welcome.”

It took approximately four hours for you and Whitey to become best friends. The two of you shrieked with joy as you trampled across the deck. You bulldozed through people without a care in the world.

At night, the two of you hid under the covers, whispering secrets while you held your hand over your mouth to muffle the giggles. You made up stories and told her about the crew, and she told you about her life hopping from island to island, working under new people every few years.

One morning, it was just you and Thatch in the kitchen. You swung your feet while you sat on the barstool, waiting for Thatch to finish your eggs. You had heard enough stories, but you were afraid to ask Whitey directly. You didn’t want to lose a friend. Thatch wouldn’t make fun of you for asking, though.

“Was Whitey a slave?”

You heard Thatch make a garbled noise, like you had caught him off guard with your question. “What makes you think that?”

“The stories she told me. She moved around a lot, and the people were always really mean to her. She has a lot of scars on her hands.”

“Observant as always,” Thatch mumbled. “Yeah. Pops and Marco found her in the street, searching for food. But she used to be a slave.”

“Did we kidnap her?”

“You can’t kidnap a slave, kid. You free them.” He plated your egg, and threw some bread on the pan to toast it.

“So she’s free now?” you asked.

“Yep.”

“But she’s a kid.” Your brows knit together, trying to understand. “Kids are supposed to be with their family. Shouldn’t we take her back to her parents?”

“We’re her family now,” Thatch explained. “That’s what matters.”

“What if her parents miss her?” you asked. “Pops would miss me if I found another family.”

Thatch put the toast on your plate and slid it over to you. You could tell he was thinking carefully of how to word what he wanted to say.

“I don’t think Whitey’s family was very kind to her. I don’t think they miss her,” he said. “I don’t even think they know her. She’s been a slave for so long, they probably forgot about her.”

“Forgot?!” you cried. “I could never forget my family! I could never forget you!”

“And I’ll never forget you,” Thatch promised. “But some families aren’t close like ours. Some don’t like each other at all.”

“That doesn’t sound very much like family.” You weren’t really hungry anymore. This discussion had made you lose your appetite.

“It’s not. That’s why we're Whitey’s family now. So make sure you’re the best sister you can be, okay?”

“Okay! We're gonna do Spa Day!” You jumped off the barstool and raced out the door. You had to make Whitey feel like the most loved person in the whole world. She was your best friend and your newest sister.

“Your breakfast!” Thatch called, but you were already gone.

“Whitey!” You jumped on her, still asleep in bed. “Whitey, wake up!”

“I don’t want to,” she groaned, flipping away from you.

“But we’re gonna have Spa Day!”

Her eyes peeked out from behind the covers. “Spa Day?”

“Spa Day!” you cried. “Come on!”

You pulled her out of bed and to the female bathhouse. You immediately stripped down to your underwear, but Whitey kept all her clothes on. The two of you worked together to fill the tub full of hot water, steam spreading throughout the room.

“Oh! I forgot!” you threw your back clothes on quickly. “I need the vegetables!”

“Vegetables?” But you were already racing out the door and back to the kitchen.

“Thatch!” you yelled, running into the kitchen. Marco was in there, and he looked at you in an amused manner.

“Is it inside-out day?” Marco teased, and you stuck your tongue out at him. In your haste, you had thrown your clothes on the wrong way. But that didn’t matter right now.

“Here,” Thatch said, handing you a basket. “There’s salts, peppermint, and lavender. Put those in the bath. Over here are the aloe-coconut facemasks, just apply those before you get in the tub. The cucumbers over your eyes. Got it?”

You squealed in delight. “Thank you!!!”

“I’ve got stones on the warmer for when you’re done!” he called out to you as you ran back to the bathroom.

“You spoil her,” Marco chided.

“Oh please, as if you don't.”

“Got the vegetables,” you panted as you entered the bathhouse, exhausted from running across the ship.

Whitey was still dressed, and you frowned at her hesitance as you stripped down. “Whitey, you have to take your clothes off.”

“What?!” You could see her cheeks pink. “All of them?”

“To get in the bath, yeah.”

“Maybe I could just keep my shirt on.”

“No,” you said. “The fibers get into the drain and clog it.”

“Well I don’t want to take my shirt off.”

You scowled. “Why not? I have mine off.”

You could see the panic in her eyes at your question, her entire body tensing. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Whitey-”

“Spa Day is stupid!” she screamed. She slammed the door as she left, making you jump at its echo in the room.

You tried your best not to cry. You really did. But by the time you were in the kitchen returning the ingredients to Thatch, your vision was too blurry to see his frame.

“She didn’t want to do Spa Day,” you sobbed, globs of lava mixing in with your tears. “She said it was stupid!”

“Oh, okay.” Thatch took the basket from you and set it to the side. “I’m sorry, kid.”

“I hate her!” you screamed, your skin starting to boil. “She’s so mean! She’s just like everyone else!”

“What exactly happened?” Marco asked, coming over to help mitigate your frustration.

“I told her no shirts in the bath,” you said between breaths. “Because that’s the rule!”

“Okay, uh, kid-” Thatch took a step back, letting Marco take over. The doctor had a bit more heat tolerance with your literal meltdowns. Your tears were starting to drip down onto the wood, burning holes into them.

“Y/N. Stop.” Marco said, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I know you’re upset, but we’re not going to destroy Thatch’s nice kitchen because of it, okay?”

Your lips puckered out, trying to hold in your sadness. “Sorry,” you whimpered. You wiped the hot tears from your face.

“Why do you think Whitey didn’t want to take off her shirt?” Marco asked. “Think about it.”

You bit your lip, thinking long and hard about why a shirt was a big deal. “She’s embarrassed.”

“Good,” Marco said, nodding his head. “Do we think we can bend the rules for it this one time to make her feel more at home?”

“But-”

“The drain, I know,” Marco finished for you. “I’ll talk to Pops. Don’t empty the tub when you guys leave, and let me know when you’re done, okay?”

You looked over at Thatch, trying to ask him a secret question. Why was she embarrassed? You silently asked.

Thatch nodded, understanding. “Think about what we talked about this morning.”

Family? No, not that. Whitey used to be a slave. She had scars on her hands. Maybe she had scars on her back too. Maybe she didn’t want to show them.

“Thank you Marco.” You gave him a hug, finally calm again. “And thank you Thatch.” You ran over and gave him a hug too. “Sorry about your floor.”

“It can be fixed,” Thatch assured you. He handed the basket back to you. “Just like you and Whitey.”

You walked back to your room, your stomach bubbling with nerves.

“Whitey?” you knocked softly on the door, and then opened it.

“Go away.”

“We can still do Spa Day,” you said.

“I said go away.”

“You can keep your shirt on,” you said. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll keep my shirt on too.”

Whitey turned over to look at you. “You will?”

You nodded. “We can have Shirt Spa Day.”

Whitey giggled. “Shirt Spa Day. That’s funny.”

“Shirt Spa Day!” you chanted, and she joined in with you. The two of you skipped down to the bathhouse, still chanting your silly string of words, and solidifying a tradition that would last for years to come.

---

Learning - Age 13

You screamed out in frustration, volcanic glass shattering around you. You had been trying for days to get this new technique right, and you could never make it like how you were envisioning.

A small beam of volcanic magma. That’s all you were trying to do. But you couldn’t get right. It was either the wrong consistency, or the wrong angle, or didn’t even come out at all.

And this evening you all were leaving the island. It would be at least a few days before you could practice again. Not that you had made any headway. You were still back at square one. You hadn’t done anything.

“Looks like you're struggling,” a familiar voice boomed, laughing at your distress.

You quickly composed yourself, trying to appear somewhat level-headed before you turned to the voice.

“Teach!” you said, putting on a smile and giving a laugh. “Yeah, just a little bit.”

“Maybe I can help?”

You gave a polite smile, not wanting to appear rude. You weren’t entirely sure what Teach could do to help, since he didn’t have a devil fruit ability. But Marco and your father had left you to figure it out on your own, and you could use any help you could get.

“What exactly are you trying to do?”

“Just a thin lava stream projectile,” you explained. “One that can be small and precise if I need to take out one person in a group.”

Teach nodded, impressed with your idea. “Have you got the lava beam worked out yet?”

“No, that’s the problem. I can’t make it at all.”

“Let me see.”

You frowned, but you did as you were told. You held your hand out, pointing to a rock, and tried to make a small strand of lava shoot from your hand. You could feel the energy building up, like all of the pressure was stuck behind a wall.

And then there was a flash, and magma erupted from the ground around you, spewing hundreds of feet into the air.

Luckily Teach was far enough away that the blast zone didn’t hit him. He simply laughed at your misfortune, a loud booming cackle.

“I see your problem,” he said. “You’re too strong.”

You scowled at him, thinking he might be trying to make fun of you. “What do you mean?”

“You’re trying to make a tiny beam. But you don’t even know what the beam should look like. You’re doing too much at once and overloading your senses.”

“Marco said I should start small,” you said.

“Marco doesn’t have your kind of power.” He laughed again, walking over to you. “Look, kid. Just focus on making a beam. It doesn’t matter how big it is. Don’t limit it. Just envision a beam hitting, say…that rock over there. Try that, okay?”

You looked at your hands, skeptical of his advice. “Okay.” You took a deep breath, and held out your hands in the direction of the rock. “You might want to step back.”

“Don’t need to. Don’t kill me, okay?”

You couldn't kill Teach. He was one of the oldest members on the ship. He had always been there. You'd never forgive yourself if you even burned him a little. You had to get this right. You took one more breath, trying your best to center yourself and envision the kind of thing you wanted. And then, you pushed the lava out of your hands, aiming for the rock.

It hit. Exactly how you imagined it would. Well, it was kind of hard to miss the rock. Your beam was about 10 times larger than what you had initially wanted. But it was a beam.

You could hear Teach cheering behind you, whooping and hollering at your success.

“I did it!” you screamed, hardly believing it yourself.

“You’ve got power, kid!” Teach patted your head in approval, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. You had been failing because you had been limiting yourself. But you weren’t a failure. You were powerful.

“It’s my dream to perfect this,” you said, a grin on your face. “Perfect this and become division two commander.”

“That should be a pretty easy goal for you to reach,” Teach said. “Better start thinking of another dream soon.”

“Do you have any dreams, Teach?”

“We all have dreams, kid. I’m just glad I could help you get closer to yours.”

“What’s yours?”

He cackled at your question. “There’s a devil fruit I'd like to find one day.”

“Oh! Well, the Grand Line is huge, it’s gotta be out there somewhere. Any fruits I find you’re welcome to. ” It's the least you could offer.

“Well that sure is kind of you! I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.”

“I really hope you find it, Teach.”

“Me too, kid. Me too.” He sighed, a smile dancing across his lips. “But let's focus on you! Keep practicing! Make it smaller and smaller until you’ve got it the way you want. You’ll get there!”

It was the first time someone really understood how you learned and operated, and every move you perfected in the future came from what you learned that day.

---

Kiss - Age 16

You hadn’t expected your first kiss to be on your 16th birthday, but that’s just how it happened.

He was a new crew member, and he had caught your eye almost immediately. His name was Palms, and he was quite the looker.

You must’ve caught his eye as well, because every time you looked at him, he seemed to already be watching you.

The two of you played this silent game, flirting only with looks passed between one another, when finally Whitey nudged you.

“Will you just go talk to him! You guys have been fucking each other with your eyes since the sun went down!”

“Whitey!” you gasped, giggling at her bluntness. She rolled her eyes and waved you on, encouraging you to get a move on.

You met him over by the keg, and you filled up your tankard while waiting for him to speak.

“I hear this party is for you!” he yelled, trying to make his voice heard over the music.

“My 16th birthday!” You yelled back.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I would’ve brought a present!”

You gave him a wink. “You still have time to think of one.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, his eyes raking your body. “Yeah, I can think of one.”

You had never felt self-conscious before in your outfits, but Whitey had chosen this one for you, and it was a bit more skin than you were used to. But she had told you that confidence was key, so you gave him a smirk and walked inside the doors. You wanted a little bit of privacy.

He was a terrible kisser. Or maybe you were. You weren’t sure. It was your first time kissing, after all. But it was still euphoric. A rush of the senses, you could feel your body temperature rising in response to-

“Holy shit you’re hot,” Palms said, pulling away from you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, that just happens sometimes,” you explained, rushing back to his mouth.

“No,” he said, pulling away from you. “You’re like, burning me.”

“Oh.” You could feel your cheek blush. Your skin started to churn, anxious at this new revelation. You couldn’t even kiss without your ability going haywire.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He said, watching the magma beneath your skin start to glow with slight concern. Not concern for you. Concern for himself.

“Yeah.” The moment was gone, and you only felt shame now. “Thanks for the birthday present.”

He gave a nervous laugh. “If you need another one when you cool down, you know where to find me.”

You gave him a polite smile and rushed out onto the deck. Instead of returning to the party, you went up the stairs and to the back of the ship. You just wanted to be alone.

You knew what some people said about you. How you couldn't control your emotions. And since your emotions controlled your powers, you couldn't control that either. People constantly questioned your father on your abilities, and his decision to make you lead strategist at such a young age. The only people who really trusted you on their teams were Marco and Thatch. The other commanders would tolerate you, but they would never use you to your full potential. It's like everyone was just waiting for you to mess up.

You leaned over the side of the ship as you cried, trying not to get any burn marks on the wood. You had been with your devil fruit ability for over ten years now, and you still couldn’t completely control it. You hated it. Some days you wished that you had never eaten that stupid thing, or that you had just let those men take you to the Navy and it-

“I thought we’d find you here,” Whitey said, coming up next to you. She gave you a light bump on the shoulder.

“We?”

“Come on,” Marco said from behind you. “We’re going to play Strategist and Commanders.”

“You said I’m too young for that.”

“Not anymore,” Thatch said, a smile spreading across his face. “You’re sixteen now, aren’t you? Welcome to the club.”

“But I’m just the lead strategist. I don’t belong to a division.”

“Don’t belong to a division,” Marco scoffed. “You can be on my team. Or Thatch’s. Whoever you don’t choose is stuck with Whitey.”

“Stuck with?!?” Whitey pouted, rolling her eyes. “More like graced with!”

“But-”

“Stop making excuses,” Thatch said, ruffling your hair. “Let’s go.”

You gave him a smile, already forgetting about your disastrous kiss. “Let’s go.”

Oh, they had no idea what kind of monster they had awakened that night.

Departing - 2 years ago

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Marco asked, looking at you.

“A lot of things will change in two years,” Thatch warned.

“I’m ready.” You nodded, adjusting your things on your back. “I need to do this.”

You walked over to Whitey, the goodbye you were dreading the most.

“You gonna be okay without me?”

Tears filled her eyes. “Yeah.”

“You don’t have to lie, Whitey. I’m not going to be okay without you either.”

She let out a soft sob, and clamped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be.” You wrapped her in a hug, crying too. Normal tears now, though your lava tears rarely affected your ice-witch best friend.

“I know you have to leave to get stronger,” she said, her voice muffled by your gear. “But I hate it so much.”

“We’ll have SO much to catch up on when I get back, though!” you let out a choked laugh. “We can stay up all night under the covers, just like old times.”

“Promise?” she sobbed, clutching you tighter.

“I promise.”

The two of you finally broke apart, viciously wiping the tears off your face.

“That was embarrassing,” you both said in sync, which started another round of laughing sobs.

“Y/N.” Your father’s voice boomed from nearby, quiet, but urgent. “We have a small window of operation to get you where you need to go.”

“Right.” You gave Whitey one more squeeze. “I’ll see you soon. And I’ll make a journal every day so I remember everything to tell you. You do the same.”

“Deal.”

You walked over to your father, towering above you. “Thank you for everything, Pops.” You tried to keep your voice level, but you could feel your lip trembling.

Thankfully, your father’s was doing the same. “I know this is the right call. The timing couldn’t be better. I'll remind you, you’ve already done it, but continue to make me proud.”

“I’ll do my best,” you promised.

“That’s all I can ask for.”

He pulled you in for a hug, and you could feel he was holding back tears, just like you were. You had never been away from your father, besides small missions and scouting trips. And now you wouldn’t see him for two years.

“Ready, Izou?” you asked, looking toward the man who would take you to Wano.

“Let’s go.”

You walked through the crowd, saying goodbye to the only family you had known your entire life.

“Good luck!” called Haruta. He had just joined, and you were sad you wouldn’t get to know him more.

“Get nice and strong, and come be our commander!” Teach yelled, and you gave him a grateful nod.

“We love you!” called a group of young adults. You spotted Palms amongst them, and blushed as you waved.

You knew things would be different when you got back. You just didn’t realize how different they would be.

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01@deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598 @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @aikochan4859

(if you'd like to be included in the tag list, just comment or send me a message!)

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #whitebeard pirates #op whitebeard #whitebeard crew #cozage

202 notes · View notes

vodika-vibes · 2 months

Text

What I Wish I Knew

Summary: When Master Yoda makes it a requirement for all Jedi Knights to take a Padawan, it means a lot of very young children end up on the front lines of a war. Plo Koon ends up with an eleven year old padawan, and he turns to Commander Wolffe to explain the realities of their situation to her.

Characters: Commander Wolffe, Plo Koon, Young F!Padawan Reader (all platonic)

Word Count: 761

Warnings: Wolffe has a heavy conversation with the reader

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Is a lot of what Wolffe says pulled directly from this song, yes. Yes it is. But it works.

“Commander,” General Koon walks over to him, a pensive look on his face, “I’m glad to see you. I was hoping to get your advice on something.”

“My advice, General?” Wolffe is, understandably, confused at the very idea, “I’m happy to help, of course. But I’m not sure what kind of advice I can give you that you don’t already know.”

“It’s always important to get multiple opinions.” General Koon says lightly, “And this is a matter that you might be better equipped at dealing with than myself.”

“Alright,” Wolffe replies slowly, “Go ahead.”

“You might have noticed,” General Koon starts slowly, thoughtfully, “That my Padawan is very…young.”

That might very well be the understatement of the century. She’s hardly the youngest of the new Jedi Commanders, that particular honor lies at Cody’s feet, who has an 8 year old Jedi Commander and it bothers him a lot.

“She’s not terribly young, sir.” Wolffe says awkwardly.

General Koon chuckles, “True. She’s at least old enough to be a Padawan on her own merits, but she is still very young, Commander. Too young for War. Too young to understand the realities, I think.”

“General, what are you asking me to do?”

“Talk to her. Help her understand.”

“Shouldn’t that be your job?” Wolffe asks.

“I think the lesson will stick better coming from you.” General Koon replies quietly, “Can you do this?”

Wolffe sighs and rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah. Yeah, alright. Just…send her to my office when she finishes with her lessons for the day.”

“Of course…and, Commander, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Wolffe remains standing there as General Koon walks away, and then he sighs.

Great. How do you explain war to a Cadet who actually has to take part in it? His training did not cover this.

With that thought in mind, he turns on his heels and heads towards his quarters. Hopefully the short walk will make the words magically appear. He’s not hopeful, though. Odds are he’s going to be winging it.

Half an hour later, there’s a knock on his door, and then it slides open, and a small face peeks in.

She’s…young.

So young.

Too young.

Her hair is tied in twin tails. Twin tails that she needs help putting up still. And her face is still rounded with baby fat.

Wolffe knows, logically, that she’s inching towards puberty. He knows human biology after all, but he can’t help but look at her and see a cadet rather than a jedi.

“Master said that you wanted to see me, Wol-...um, Commander.” She asks as she steps into the room and shuts the door behind her, “Did I do something wrong?”

Wolffe opens his mouth, and the words start coming, “I was younger than you are now, when I was given my first command.” He says, and she turns wide, baffled eyes towards his face, “I led my men into a massacre, I witnessed their deaths first hand.”

Her hands curl around her robes…robes that are too big for her.

“I made every mistake.” Wolffe continues as he stares at her, “And even now, to this day, I lie awake knowing that history has its eyes on me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She asks, her voice wavering slightly, her eyes even wider.

Good. She understands.

Wolffe circles his desk and kneels in front of her, “Let me tell you what I wish I knew, what I wish someone had told me.” He sets his hands on her shoulders. She’s so small, too small. “You have no control over who lives, who dies, or who tells your story at the end.”

She sniffles and her wide eyes fill with tears.

Wolffe smiles, and tugs her into a light hug, “I know that we can win.” He says quietly, “I know that greatness lies in you. But you have to remember, from here on out, that history has its eyes on you.”

She hastily wipes her eyes, and she blinks up at him with eyes that are a little more haunted than they were moments earlier. A little less innocent. “...Yes Commander, I think I understand.”

“Good girl.”

She offers him a quick bow, and then she scurries out of the room, and Wolffe leans against his desk. Only time will tell how this chat went, but, hopefully, he got through to her.

Hopefully she’ll understand what he meant.

Hopefully General Koon won’t be too mad about what he just taught her.

His head tilts back, history has its eyes on you indeed.

#star wars #tcw #commander wolffe & padawan!reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars au

62 notes · View notes

thecapricunt1616 · 1 month

Text

Blue Lotus - SxC Fic - Chapter 2

♡ Summary: Carmy & Syd go horseback riding!!! Carmy's therapy friends push him to go for what he wants, his 'light at the end of the tunnel'

♡ W/C: 6,534

♡ Posted Date: 04/07/2024

♡ A/N: Hayoooo!!! I am too inspired... this has become a multi-chap fic hahaha I am havin' so much fun here!! Thank you @gingergofastboatsmojito for inspiring me to keep going!!! ILY! As per usual please know - this fic was inspired by THIS FIC here - Tucson by the GLORIOUS GINGER!!!! Go read that before you even THINK about reading this fic ok?! I love how I hate storer for the same reasons but im a sucker for writing a slowburn - I find myself screaming at MYSELF internally "make them kiss already!!!!" but they will KISSSS SHORTLY SO SHORTLY MY DEARSSSS !!! It will be a JUICY TAYLOR SWIFT DAYLIGHT ASS KISS OK!!!! THEY WILL ONLY SEE EACHOTHER FROM THEN ON!!!! Its gonna be a 'and I can still see it all in my mind all of you all of me intertwined I USED TO THINK LOVE WOULD BE BLACK AND WHITE BUT ITS GOLDENNNNNNN. We need Carmy to realize a few more things but then - he will be hozier level devoted to this woman even more then he already is, I hope you enjoy!!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Not really any? Like? LOL - Swearing?! Smoking cigarettes?! They just went horseback riding & carmy went to therapy- oh Ig talks of carmy getting hard LMAO but thats as crazy as we get this chapter. ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

Stardust nudges his shoulder so hard he almost falls over, and he turns to look at her. His heart jumped into his throat, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. She was there, she was really there.

“Uh-” he blinked a few times, to be sure that she wouldn’t disappear. “Syd? Hey..uh-” he felt his entire body buzzing with excitement. He couldn’t help the smile that took over his features. She looked… gorgeous. Carmen wasn’t sure there actually was a word in any human language ever to exist that could describe just how wonderful she looked.

Her hair was in its natural state, she was wearing an adorable corduroy jacket, black jeans, and white sneakers. “You came to a farm…in those?” he motions to her shoes.

She laughs a bit “Wow- it’s great to see you too, Carm. Didn’t realize you were…actually like living on a farm” she approached him carefully.

“Shit- yes- fuck- It’s its so good to see you, Syd, C’mere” he pulls her into a tight, long hug. The smell of her lavender vanilla perfume nearly made him melt.

“You’re like…tan- and…muscley now” She laughs a bit, squeezing his arm lightly.

“Uh..” he pulled away, cheeks bright red. “Yeah uh.. It's like- fuckin hard t’ride a horse. And the um…” he rubbed his neck nervously “The uh cows.. They eat hay? Most the time, and so we need to move the bales during the morning for em, they’re like…. 75? 80 pounds? So moving like 10 back and forth every day helps. And I dont really.. Go inside? Here? Its like… uh.. Thats the therapy mostly, the animals- at least f’me” he said sheepishly.

She nodded, looking around the stable. “That one behind you is yours? Shes been side-eying me creepily since I started talking” she pointed to Stardust.

“Oh! Fuck sorry yea, well- no…not- not mine- I got ‘er t’trust me. But uh, yeah this is Stardust. She’s a super sweet girl” He explained. Stardust leaned in, sniffing Syds hair carefully.

“Cute- All you’re missing is a hat” She teased.

He chuckled a bit, “Ok, c’mon - why are you here, Syd” He said with a small smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

She shrugged, looking at the ground and kicking a rock out of the way with her shoe. “Cause…I was worried- I dunno…” She definitely wasn't going to get bold and tell him that she’d missed him, terribly.

“Ok…well now that y’here, and y’see i’m okay…wanna have some fun?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

Syd looked back up at him, as if he had 3 heads. “Okay- Where is Carmen Berzatto- Not his… Weird alien clone- Camren Brazota” she said, laughing a bit “what do you mean fun?” She asked, and Carmy laughed, real, and genuine.

“Well- If I didn’t change my view a little I’d never leave. So, yes, Syd, ‘a little fun never hurt noone’ - per my therapist. Shes fuckin annoying. I much prefer the horses.” He pet Star’s mane and she leaned into his touch.

“Holy shit” Syd laughed a bit. “Wow- alright. I feel like you’re a whole new man already, what kind of fun?” she mused.

“Ever ridden a horse?” he walked over to the saddle rack, pulling off a double seated one and hanging it over the back of the stall door.

“No- Actually, Don’t I need um…like - stuff for it?” she asked.

“Oh don’t think I wont give you the full experience” he opened the riding closet, “Whats your shoe size?” he asked, crouching down and looking through the pairs of extras.

“8? Er- 9 probably 9” she said. He dug through them until he found a matching pair.

“These should do, y’stuff is cool here we can just leave it in her stall” he told her, holding out his arm for her to hold while she switched her shoes.

“You seem like…” she said as she slipped off her sneaker and put on the boot. “I dunno…chill- well- i wont go that far- but chill-er then before.” Carm snorted a laugh, holding on to her arm to steady her.

“Thanks? I guess..that’s good right?” He asked.

“Yeah! Yeah of course…I mean, it’s nice. To see you not so…anxious.” She said, slipping the other boot on.

“Yeah I um…” he cleared his throat, opening the stall door. “I uh..I’m takin meds- Now? Uh..all this shit. Y’know they have me like tranquilized more then these guys” he said and she laughs, Carmen smiled proudly at the fact, relishing in the wonderful sound.

“But yeah like Like 3 er..er 4. they say I had all this uh..mental shit. Goin’ on w’me and that’s why I was all…wound up I guess” he explained, calling Star out and getting her harness situated.

Syd caught herself staring at his arms as he worked, how the toned muscle moved beneath the fabric of the shirt.

“Aren’t you freezing?” She asked, noticing he wasn’t wearing a jacket like she was.

“Used to it now, well- I mean the moving around. It gets hot this shit is heavy. Wanna try to hold the saddle?” He asked, unhooking the saddle from the stall door where he’d left it momentarily.

“It can’t be that bad” she countered.

“I think this thing weighs probably as much as you do.” He said “hold out your arms” he smiled a bit.

She lifted her arms out in front of her and he plops the saddle down, she had to plant one of her feet forward so she didn’t fall face first due to the sudden weight and he laughed, catching the saddle quickly and baring most the weight.

“Told you” he teased.

She rolled her eyes “yeah whatever. Saddle up the horse, cowboy” she dropped the saddle back in his arms. He hurled the saddle over Stars back with a grunt.

“Fuckin hell” he huffed, realizing since the saddle was nearly double the weight as his usual, and being on the shorter end- he couldn’t just get it on her when she was standing straight. “Bow” he told the horse and she just stared at Sydney.

“Don’t embarrass me, Star. Bow” he told her and she looked the other way.

“So uhhh…this one’s trained, huh?” Sydney teased.

Carmen looked back at her “mmhmm maybe she doesn’t like strangers” he said, walking over to the other side.

“Since she’s bein difficult y’gonna have T’help. C’mere” he waved her over and she followed. “So when I push it up, just grab the saddle pad and make sure it doesn’t move, yea?” He asked.

“The fuck is a saddle pad, dude- I know my way around a kitchen not a fuckin horse stable.” She looked at the many different layers the horse was already wearing.

“Alright. So this,” he lifted the cloth, “is her blanket. Keeps her core warm. And beneath it” he pats the pad “this is her saddle pad, it makes it more comfortable. So our bones aren’t like..diggin in her back and shit. Also shock, when she jumps the foam of it helps our weight disperse. The saddle is so big and heavy I can’t keep the pad still at the same time, so just hold it f’me,” he took her hand, guiding it to where he wanted her to hold.

She felt her heartbeat quicken, his hands were so large and calloused on top of her own. She nodded wordlessly, keeping her eyes trained on where she was meant to be holding and focusing on keeping it steady as he went back around and carefully lifted up the heavy saddle with a grunt, laying it over the horses back.

“Jesus- how much can this thing carry” Syd asked.

“Well she is a mare, she weighs about…mmm- 1900? She can comfortably hold about 400 pounds for a decent distance but she can’t do that for hours and hours at a time. We together can’t be more then 300, and her gear is less then 100 pounds. Were just goin f’r a quick ride, I gotta get to therapy at 3” he explained as he buckled on her saddle.

“Ah. So you’ve been memorizing horse information instead of creating recipes? I figured when I got here you’d have gone nuts by now without being in a kitchen so long” she gently touched the horses mane as she spoke.

“Maybe. Well…I am kinda goin crazy? But I can’t…let it out?” He chuckled a bit “does that make sense? Nights are a little hard before my sleep meds kick in but that just says I haven’t done enough that day” he got up. “So y’gettin up first since I’m sittin in back” he explained.

“Oh…uh- ok how do I?” She asked looking up at the at least 7 foot tall animal.

“Y’not gonna be able to do it alone. C’mere” he told her. She comes over and looks at him.

“How the fuck do you do this?” She looked up at the saddle that was at the top of her head before looking back at him.

“So-“ he snorts a laugh at her wide confused expression. “She’s not gonna like you trying to roll up on her back, and I don’t want you t’get thrown off, she can be moody with new people. I almost broke my shoulder my first time trying to ride her” he said and she crossed her arms slightly.

“So how. How do I get up there?” She asked. He pulled out a step stool, setting it next to the horse and getting up on the third step.

“I’m giving you a lift. Arms up” he said with a playful smirk.

“No- no way- Carmen that’s too high. You’ll drop me!!” She took a step back, feeling slightly nervous.

“I won’t because I’ll bribe her Syd. C’mere” he pulled a pack of peep marshmallows out of his pocket and the horse nearly starts dancing.

“Carm- what the fuck is happening?” She asked and Carmy chuckled.

“Bow. Cmon Syd wants t’ride. Bow and you’ll get y’treat star.” He told the horse.

It obediently bowed down and before Syd could process what was happening, Carm was scooping her up beneath her arms Syd squealed in surprise. “Oh my GOD WHY ARE YOU PICKING ME UP!” She shrieked, wiggling in his arms.

“open y’legs! Cmon! she’s gonna get up!!!” Carmen laughed holding her up higher. Syd finally obeyed and he gently plopped her on the first saddle. “Good girl” he told the horse, feeding her the marshmallow and putting the packet in his pocket again before swiftly getting on behind Syd.

“Alright. Hard part done.” He reached around her waist, and she lifted her arms slightly.

“What- can you tell me what’s going on? I’m a horse virgin!” She said, and they both went quiet for a moment, before cracking up laughing. Syd leaned to her left slightly as she tried catching her breath, grabbing the rein for stability and tugging.

Star took off sprinting, Syd screamed in surprise, her body going tight with fear. Carmen quickly wrapped his arms around Syds waist protectively, tugging on the reigns “WOOOOAH!” He called to Star and she quickly came to a stop.

“Stand.” He told the horse firmly.

“What the fuck Carm I thought she was trained!” Syd exclaimed, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I gotchu, you think I’d let her kick you off?” He tightened his arms around her. Carmen swore his heart was thumping so hard that she felt it on her shoulder blade.

“Also when she moves it’s hard to keep still.” She said nervously.

“Don’t worry, I gotchu, Syd. Lean into me, if our weight is centered then it’ll be easier for all 3 of us” he gently pushed at her stomach.

She leaned back into his broad chest, “see” he said softly. He was lucky the angle didn’t allow for her to see him, because his face was bright red, And having her body pressed against his…was making him flush somewhere else too.

He clicked his tongue and Stardust started walking again, at an easy comfortable trot. “This…is ok.” She said, much more comfortable now.

“I’m gonna take you t’one of my favorite spots.” He said, pulling on the reins to the left lightly so she would follow the left trail.

“Wow, already sharing secret spots huh? I think this therapist may just be Doctor of the year I don’t even think I’ve seen your favorite Chicago spots” she teased.

Carm laughed a bit, he felt so much lighter with Syd around. And life had been lighter ever since he got here.

“How is…uh- how is it back home?” He cleared his throat lightly. It was something that had being weighing on him. Yes, he was here, he was doing the thing. He was making Sugar happy. He was making Syd happy…but he would go back, at some point.

And his biggest fear was things will just go right back. He won’t have this outlet, he won’t have sunset rides with Stardust to ease his mind. He won’t have the cows happily running up to him and greeting him when he was the first one to bring out a bale of hay. He felt like if he was here, he may have the confidence to tell Syd how he feels. But back home? It was another life.

“Fine..things are..y’know. The usual shit. But nothing bad, no one’s getting locked in any freezers if that’s what you mean” she said playfully.

Carm rolled his eyes with a light smile. “Mmhmm. So the restaurant is-“

“Is fine.” She said. “I’d have told you. You know that.” She said and he nodded a bit.

“I know she scared you back there…but it’s pretty fun to go fast. You wanna try?” He asked.

She shifted a bit uncomfortably, her hands tightening around his arms that were holding the reins around her waist. “Uhh…maybe? Are you sure we won’t fall off?” She questioned.

“I’m sure. Here you can be the one to control it. Start light ok? With your legs.” He gently ran his hands down her thighs to right below her knees “here” he said softly, squeezing the flesh gently so she wouldn’t have to lean and look. “With that part of your legs, give her a little squeeze. But really light, or we’ll take out of here like a bat out of hell” he held around her waist again, securely holding the reins.

“Mmhmm” she said, she was beginning to feel hot- and not because she’d done any hard work in regards to getting the horse ready.

“Alright. Whenever you’re ready, you’re the boss” he said the last part softly in her ear. If it wasn’t for her jacket, he would see the goosebumps that had risen on her arms. She nodded quickly, staring straight ahead and trying to maintain her composure.

“So I just?” She squeezed gently and the horse picks up her speed slightly. “Oh…ok” she said.

“Told y’she was trained” Carmy teased and she rolls her eyes.

“Mmm you’ve done a very good job, bribing this horse with peeps. The staff know you do this?” She asked. Carmy snorted a laugh

“No. But she’s healthy. Made sure. She only gets one or 2 if she doesn’t listen.” He admitted.

She shook her head with a smile. “And how’d you find this out, Carm?” She leaned into him once more.

“I…” he laughed a bit, his chest vibrating with the movement and it made her heart warm.

“I uh…spent a few days in the library here. Reading up. After she threw me off. It’s all about trust with em. So I never lied to ‘er and I’ve never done something she didn’t expect because I always try to warn her.” He said, pulling her reigns a bit tighter.

“This is like a joyride Syd cmon, I said fast not an evening stroll.” He teased.

“Fine. Mister horse master- show me what Miss Stardust can do.” She said.

With 2 kisses and a quick tap of his heel, they were off like a rocket. He held Syd steady, being sure she wouldn’t have to do most the work of holding herself center as he gripped each reign with the opposite hand, holding them taught so Star knew to keep going.

Syd laughed, the wind flicking her dark curls all around. He wished she could see her amused expression. “Holy shit this is the best!” She shouted over the loud thuds of Stars hoofbeats.

“I know right! Can you believe she can go faster?” He said, holding his knees taut around her hips to keep her from sliding.

“Okay we are not! This is fine!” She said and sat up a bit “are we going into the-” She asks as Star begins to barrel through a creek, the freezing water spraying up and around them getting them slightly wet, the freezing water splashing from their calves up to their cheeks.. “CARMY!” She screams through laughter.

He could barely catch his breath as he laughed so hard his stomach and ribs ached. “I’m sorry!! Syd! Oh god-“ he chuckled “woah girl- woah” he called to the course and she slowed down once again to a stop.

“Fuck-“ Carmen chuckled “you okay?” He asked, picking a wet leaf from her jacket and throwing it to the forest floor.

“Yeah- I’m.. I’m fine. That was really fun actually. C’mon I wanna see the spot” she said and took it upon herself to tug the reins so Star would take off again

“Shi-it!” He quickly finds his balance, “warn me!! Oh god I almost flew off!!” He told her.

“You think I’d let her throw you off?” She mimics him from earlier and he takes the chance to playfully pinch her waist

“Yes because who’s in back and who’s in front?” He wrapped his arms around her again, taking the reins from her grasp. “Your reign privileges have been revoked for this riding lesson, Ms.Adamu”

She laughed a bit “I’ll earn them back. Don’t worry” she mused.

“Mmm we need to talk about more shit before I just literally hand the reins over. Coulda spooked her and we’d be fuckin dead.” he angled the outside reigns so she’d slow down as they came to the clearing.

“Here we are” he hopped off, raising his arms to help her down.

She carefully reached out for him and he lifted her off, gently setting her down. “Holy fuck Carmy” she turned around, watching the waterfall cascade down over the rocks.

“Right! Told you. It’s a fire spot” he went over to one of the rocks he usually sat at, plopping down and taking out a cigarette. “Oh- shit- can’t have y’running off” he told Stardust and chuckled, leaving the cigarette between his lips as he walked over to her, guiding her over to the tree, and hooking her right rein around a branch before sitting back down.

“Yeah…I can’t remember the last time I went somewhere so…” she trailed off, looking at all the trees and running water.

“Green?” Carmy lit his cigarette, taking a drag. “Not packed with smog? Somewhere that doesn’t smell like shit.” He said as he exhaled.

“…yeah” she said and laughed a bit. “Yeah. Guess that’s it.” She came and sat next to him. “What did you mean about her getting scared?” She asked curiously.

“Oh- a scared horse will fucking kill you. Not on purpose, but they’re big and pure muscle, and will do anything to get away from danger. I scared the shit out of her one time, that was it. Dislocated my shoulder 8th day here. Doing that hurts like a bitch by the way.” He rolled his shoulder gently.

“How’d you manage that? God I knew you were shit at chatting up girls but she dislocated your shoulder?” She teased.

He rolled his eyes with a playful smile, taking another drag. “Yes, I was fuckin around on the trail, dunno why- but there was this branch sticking out so I grabbed it, it snapped, she fuckin reeeared dude. I flew back so hard. My back might still be bruised I’m not sure. Still hurts a little to laugh” he said.

“You better have seen a doctor” she said.

“Ohhh silly Syd.” He sighed, a puff of smoke filling the air in front of him. “We aren’t allowed to refuse treatment here. If you get hurt, and you refuse to get help, it’s considered self harm, which leads to them believing you have suicidal ideation, which leads to you being locked in the actual nuthouse. So yes. I willingly went to the doctor daily for a week. And now, I’m being checked on once a week. So yeah. Oh and therapy daily. And every day I’m given my meds and someone checks over ‘pre-existing injuries’ which that is now considered. So yeah. I’m good. I’m fuckin fine as fine can be.” He said.

“Awww poor little chef, being taken care of so well that’s so hard isn’t it?” She teased and he gives her a playful glare, but couldn’t help but crack a smile when he realized she was smiling too.

“I was being taken care of fine at home by myself but you and my sister just had to ship me off after one tiny accident” he leaned back on his hand, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“It stops becoming an accident when you didn’t care, Carm. You didn’t care. It didn’t phase you. You weren’t even…you weren’t even scared. Just because you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t mean you did the sane thing which would have been doing everything you could to not let something like that happen.” She said, her tone suddenly serious.

He looked down at his lap, swallowing thickly. He suddenly felt all of the armor he’d spent the last 31 days chipping at, slowly start to meld back together and shell him back in at the shame the whole situation was making him feel.

“I have nightmares…you know. About it. What happened” she said quietly, and he could physically feel his heart ripping open.

The only sound between them was the bubbling stream, and the sounds of their even breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, gaze fixed on his lap knowing he would burst into tears at the admission she’d been so deeply plagued by something he’d done, if he had looked at her.

“I know” was all she said, gently resting her hand on top of his. He felt the same fireworks exploding in his chest that he only ever felt when she was around.

“Do you um…” he clears his throat and shook his head, embarrassed by the question plaguing his mind. “Never mind it’s..it’s stupid.” He removed his hand, putting his cigarette in it and resting the hand opposite of her on the rock.

“That usually means it’s not stupid. What?” She coaxed, bumping his knee with hers gently.

“It’s stupid” he said again, shrugging his shoulders.

“It can’t be stupider then asking me what UPS means” She said playfully. He rolled his eyes, smiling and looking over at her.

“And what if it is?” He questioned.

“I would be..worried they’re giving you a bad concoction of meds that’s turning your glorious chef brain in to Swiss cheese” she teased

He snorts a laugh. “I was gonna ask..if you wanted to cook..t’night. My cabin…it uh- has a kitchen? I haven’t cooked in a month. They give us food so I haven’t really bothered but…seeing you makes me miss it more, I guess” he blushed, looking back down at his lap.

“Well obviously. Not gonna let you eat whatever bullshit they’ve been giving you while I’m around.” She said and he shook his head, meeting her gaze once more with a playful smirk.

“Maybe you should check in. My therapist says it’s bad apparently to feel ‘responsible for others’ - says it’s a ‘subconscious self harming behavior’ “ he teased.

She smiled a bit. “Okay- say I do. How about, I check in now, we shoot the shit for what- eleven more days- then, you go back home- and see how stressful it is in that restaurant when one of your hands is basically missing” she plucked the cigarette bud he’d forgotten about from between his fingers before it burnt him, flicking it into the creek.

“You know that’s the first time I’ve seen you smoke- other then…me like checking on you when you were about to explode at work. But you’ve never…pulled one out and smoked it I guess” she said, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her cheek on her forearm as she looked at him.

“Oh…” he said, pulling one of his legs up and resting his arm on it. “Didn’t realize you noticed” he said, brushing some dirt off his jeans.

“I notice a lot of stupid shit about you, it’s kinda annoying honestly.” She said without thinking, her eyes widening when she realized and she looked the other way, resting her other cheek on her knee and squeezing her eyes shut.

Why would you ever say that?! She asked herself internally.

“Oh?” He said again, smiling a bit. “You do?” He questions, but that was as far as he’d push.

“Mhm” was all she responded. Carmys phone started buzzing in his pocket and he pulled it out in case it was one of the ‘base keepers’ they called them. Carmy rather call them babysitters. He knew what they were for, being sure if they were out of sight too long they were making sure they could still get ahold of them.

He sighed in relief when he saw it was just his 2:40 alarm. “Gotta go” he stood up, offering his hand to Syd. “Like- now. Or my ass is getting chewed out.”

The ride back to the cabins was mostly silent. He had no stool this time, so he had to pick up Syd essentially by the ass and gently place her on Stars back so she didn’t get spooked.

He was embarassed as fuck that the tiny action had the crotch region of his jeans tightening more then was casually explainable. Thank god no one was around to see him awkwardly hop in the way of his semi hard third leg down his left pant leg, grunting but covering it with a dry cough when she settled her ass back into him to ‘center their gravity’

Syd absolutely felt the firmness pressing into her ass. She thought it was a bit funny, but also brushed it off to the strange friction that came with riding a horse. She couldn’t allow herself to fully believe his teenage like excitement was due to her, or she’d go insane.

Carmy dropped Syd off at his cabin, giving her the key and telling her he’d put up Stardust and be back by 5, she would be blushing if it weren’t for her mahogany complexion at the domesticity of it all - er what she could imagine domesticity with Carmy would feel like.

Her panties were also soaked through from the feeling of his enormous length pressed into the curve of her ass - the entire way back - but she just chalked that up to not getting laid for a few months, and misreading his natural arousal for him being horny- she quickly pushed the thought down and just chalked it up to the horse. Because guys get hard when they ride horses…right? Right?!

Carmen arrived to therapy extremely frustrated, and extremely ready to talk. He sat down in his regular spot in the back, tapping his knee nervously and covering his crotch with his hands. Luckily, thinking about his mother was enough to make him soft nearly instantly so he had that to thank her for at least.

“Alright guys!” Julienne, the usual Friday therapist came in, sitting in her spot in the circle. “Who is up today! We are-“ she looks at her iPad “oh! Yes this is another OP class, so- no pressure but, I wanna hear what’s goin on!” She crossed her legs.

Julie was far from his favorite therapist, at Blue Lotus. But he wasn’t his least favorite. So he would still talk. He cleared his throat, raising his hand slightly.

“Carmy?! What a treat! Okay what’s up” she grabbed her little stylus pencil. He bit the inside of his lip nervously. He despised how casual she tried to make this all feel.

“Uh…so- my um…business partner, she came to see me. I guess I haven’t been…keeping touch? Enough? She just said she was worried…” he cleared his throat again, gaze fixed on his lap. “And uh…I’m startin’ t’-t’realize stuff?” He sniffled nervously, rubbing his mouth with slightly clammy, nervous hands.

“She uh..” he chuckled a bit. “She…she just…showed up. Didn’t hear shit from ‘er. She probably knew that I’d uh…I’d tell ‘er no?” He finally meets the gaze of Julie.

“Okay. You know guests are allowed right? Like- during the visiting hours, 6am to 11pm, no fraternizing between patients but-“ Carmen cuts her off

“We aren’t - no. Not fraternizing” He shook his head. “But uh…today? We were- we were sitting. This spot, near uh, Jupiter point? On the north side. And I had this- this urge T-to tell her…everything.” He shook his head, looking at the floor again.

“So…you wanted to tell her you love her?” Jesse, one of the guys he’d had lunch with a few times piped up.

“T’be honest, I don’t know.” Carmen said honestly, looking at him.

“Well what does it feel like?” Jesse asked, sitting up a bit.

“What? Like- what does what feel like?” Carmen asked curiously.

“Her. Being with her. Talking to her? Inside. Like. Your chest. Your skin?” He questioned.

“Uh…” Carmen sat back, swallowing thickly and crossing his arms over his chest. He thought for a moment.

“Hot. I get hot. All over. My chest feels tight but - but good? Like- a hug almost. And then…when she…” he blushed, looking down with a shy smile. “When she touches me” he shook his head slightly. “When she touches me it’s like um.. fireworks? Like fireworks beneath my skin.” He chuckled a bit at how cheesy it sounded.

“And you haven’t fucking nailed her?” Jessie asked plainly.

Carmen furrowed his brows, glaring at him. “No” he clenched his jaw “I haven’t.” He snips.

“Dude- you are- pussy whipped with no pussy?! You- you love her, Carmen. You love this chick. I feel like I’m looking in a weird straight mirror - the first time-“ he laughed a bit “the first time I kissed a guy- god. He was so hot. But I had no idea! I had no idea. I really thought that I was just-“ he shook his head “that I was just wanting to befriend him? Or something? But like- I wanted to fuck him. And when I did kiss him? Something unlocked in my brain dude. It was like…like a whole new world. I felt like I knew - I knew what love could feel like? Just ‘cause of that one kiss “ he shrugged.

Carmen looked at him, arms crossed, trying to absorb everything he was saying even though every fiber of his former self was screaming to take it with nothing more than a grain of salt.

“Kiss her dude. Kiss her.” Jesse said and sat back in his chair.

“Well. Although, consensual sexual instances are against the code of conduct to discuss - I am very proud to see you two coming out of your shells. Has anyone else felt… confused in their romantic endeavors and would like to share?” Julie asked.

Carmen crossed his arms tighter, looking down at his lap. This was quite unusual for him, he was one of the patients to only add what he had to to be credited during inpatient, and during outpatient - only spoke when he really and honestly had to.

“Uh-“ the super tall girl, Shayna sits up. Carmen was never really sure why she was here. She looked…perfect by all means. Perfect skin, perfect nails, pretty face, long blonde hair, a perfect body by girl standards. Or at least what Carmen had understood of them.

“Not really the same.. but before I came out? I like…I would uh buy…girl clothes. That I liked. For my girlfriends at the time…” she blushed “and um.. I realized after a while that I liked them. And I wasn’t just..wanting to see my girlfriend in them. And like- it’s not the exact same, but when he said… about how Jesse realized he wanted the guy. That’s how I felt when I finally tried the clothes on” she shrugged.

Carmen was…aghast. He just simply stared at her. He’d never met- or thought- he’d ever met a trans person before today. But…Shayna?

Well- he was wrong because he had met her, they actually knew each other fairly well as far as patients go, she joined the program when he did. When they first met, she’d made a joke about how they were the tallest girl and shortest guy in the class, so that meant they were bound to be friends, since opposites attract - and that earned a chuckle out of him before his meds had even fully evened out.

“I love the cis-and-confused look- it’s cute” she said and laughed a bit. Carmen blushed, smiling a bit.

“Not confused- well, maybe. Maybe a little. Y’Just so…dainty? I dunno..” he shrugged.

“In case you haven’t noticed- mr.little man syndrome- you’re only one out with the cows doing the hay on time in the morning. Ninty percent of the group is your version of dainty ” Jesse teased.

“Jesse” Julie gives him the look. “I’d assume that means- the rest of you that aren’t out helping with the bales- are scraping out the cow pens? Since Carmen is doing all the hard work according to you.”

“I’m not girl- fuck no! The second I got out of inpatient house arrest? I walked my happy ass down to Walmart and bought me some blackout curtains. I recommend those to all of you! Oh my god and some ear plugs!! The stupid fucking roosters! Worst 15 days of my lifeee! I’m never coming back here peace and love to you all though. Truly. Can’t stand this cow shit stank ass place.” Shayna said dramatically, causing Carmen to chuckle a bit.

He had loved her boldness since they’d met. If Shayna didn’t want to do something- she wasn’t doing it. He learned that the day the staff tried to force her on anti-depressants. One of the main therapists got a Wellbutrin straight to the eye, they never attempted that battle the same way again.

“We know Shayna you aren’t shoveling scat, princesses don’t do that” Jesse mocked her valley girl tone.

“Okay! Okay. Alriiiight! Back on track- done with the bickering!” Julie said. “Now that open call is over let’s move on to breakthroughs. This issss-“ she looks at her iPad “ah- yes! D group. So. That makes it-“ he checks her watch “ah- right. 11 days! How are your light tunnel projects going?” She questioned.

Carmen’s chest tightened, but not in the Syd is smiling or he made Syd laugh way- in the - I haven't done something I was meant to do way.

The Light Tunnel project wasn’t hard. It was simply one thing you have done that you had wanted to do when you came into the program. And Carmy knew what his answer was,

Admit how he felt to Sydney.

Or, as his Therapist- Mandy told him ‘become more truthful with yourself and those you know about how you feel’ because “counting on someone to like him back would put him at square one” he had pretended to understand, but knew that he had to tell her and soon - or he was going to really go insane.

“ my light tunnel was to talk to my asshole father- but lucky for me I just caught wind the motherfucker finally died thank god. So by default I win and don’t have to be here anymore cause his abandonment was what fucked me up anyhow“ Shayna said jokingly, causing Carm to snort a laugh. He knew she was only joking about the leaving early part, not the father part. Her father was an even bigger piece of shit then Carmen’s was, he had come to learn.

“Mmm that isn’t how it works we know that Shayna. We’ll talk more about this in one to one “ Julie told her and Shayna crossed her long legs, looking out the window.

The last 20 minutes of the session Carmen sat silently, looking out the opposite window to Shayna, watching the horses running around in the field before they got called in for dinner and just spacing out, thinking about what he may say to Syd.

“Yo - Carm space cadet” Shayna said before kicking his boot he jumped a bit, looking up at them both and had realized the room since had cleared and Julie was preparing for her next session.

“Shit.” He said “how long have I been like…like that?” He asked, his cheeks feeling hot.

“It’s the OCD meds. They get you stuck in a happy thought loop sometimes. Are you just gonna sit here? You wanna do another hour of this with sniveling group a? They got here three days ago.” Jesse said. Carm shook his head, getting up.

“No- no sorry” he said starting with them outside. Shayna laughed a bit

“You were thinking of screwing that business partner aren’t you. “ she said, causing Carmys cheeks to go pinker.

“Shayna shut up!” Jesse scolded, pushing her shoulder lightly.

“Awwww carmyyy are your feelings hurt little buddy? Do you need a hug? Jesus men are such pussys” she pushed open the doors of the therapy cabin for them.

“Let me see pictures of this hot chick. If you don’t fuck her I will and I bet I’d do a better job” Shayna teased as they started heading back towards the cabins.

Carmen couldn’t even process what she said as he felt his breath get caught in his chest, he saw her. She was sitting on the porch of his cabin, criss-cross in one of the rocking chairs as she writes in her notebook. He couldn’t help but stop and stare at the way the setting sun hit her bronze skin, her curls casting intricate patterned shadows on the wood. He felt his heart pick up, his chest squeezing in that way, the way that only happened when he saw her.

Shayna and Jesse stopped after a few moments when they realized Carm had gotten stuck behind. They both follow his gaze carefully to see what he was so fixed on, like a trance.

“Holy fuuuck!!! Holy fuck how did I get this lucky!! She’s here? She’s here still?!” Shana asked excitedly, “oh my god- you’re getting laid- tonight” she excitedly skips up to the cabin and Syd looks up, locking eyes with her before seeing Carmen just a few paces behind. “I’m Shayna! Do you and Carm wanna hang out with us tonight?”

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡

29 notes · View notes

nahoney22 · 1 year

Text

That Floral Dress***

Echo X F!Reader

word count: 3000

After a sour date, Echo has one thing on his mind: is he a bad kisser? Luckily, you were willing to tell him the truth.

Warnings: no smut but it is rather saucy so gonna rate it at 16+. Slight insecure echo, unknown mutual pining, reader is female and is wearing a floral dress. Intense make out.

Masterlist

“Do I look like I would be a bad kisser?”

The question catches you off guard completely, making you spin around in your seat in the cockpit of the Marauder to face Echo who had been pacing back and forth for the better half of ten minutes. You’re surprised he hasn’t worn the floor down.

You're not sure how to respond to such an unexpected question, so you ask him to repeat it. "Do I look like I would be a bad kisser?" he asks again, biting his lip anxiously.

Even hearing it the second time round confused you just as much and then it occurred to you that a few nights ago he had come back from a date that Wrecker had sprung upon him. He didn’t look too pleased to go in the first place and his mood only worsened upon his return.

“I… don’t know?” You reply nervously.

Echo had been your friend for years now, even since before his accident at the Citadel so for him to ask you this type of question was a little odd as you two were merely friends. You didn’t want to upset him and say no, which wasn’t the case either, but you didn’t want to say yes in case presumptions start.

Echo lets out a deep sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose with his flesh hand before leaning against the wheel of the Marauder. You can tell that he's feeling frustrated, and you feel a twinge of guilt for not being more helpful. So, dropping what you were doing, you decide to ask him what's really going on.

“How come you're asking me this, Echo?" you inquire softly, hoping to get to the root of the problem.

Echo fidgets nervously, his sharp jaw clenching with anxiety. "Remember that date I went on the other day?" he grumbles, clearly still bitter about the experience. To which you nod for him to continue, leaning back on your seat as he begins to explain his predicament.

“Well, not only were they quite dull as a person, and I’m not saying I’m a barrel of laughs either, but they were insanely dull so the date was not off to a great start.” He emphasizes on the word dull, making you giggle softly which always made him smile but before he gets distracted, he continues,

“Anyway, I walked them back to their place and just being the courteous guy I am, I leaned in to give them a kiss goodnight. Only for them to recoil back as if I smelt terrible.”

"They even said 'ew no thanks,'" he recalls bitterly, his face contorting.

Your eyes widen in shock, mouth agape. “How rude of them!” You exclaim with a shake of your head, feeling indignation on his behalf. “You were only being nice?” You stated, hoping to bring some ease to Echo but his furrowed brows and almost sad expression said otherwise.

“I only was going to go in for the cheek.” He grumbles. “Well, I just wanted to ask you if you think I looked like I’d be a bad person to kiss.” He folds his arms over his chest, staring down at the floor as your heart lunges out to him.

“In that case,” you stand and take a step towards him, resting a comforting hand to his forearm, “no, I don’t think you would look like a bad kisser.”

His eyes search yours, a mix of emotions residing in them. “You don’t have to say that because you feel bad for me.”

You scoff and shake your head at him. “Echo, you know me well enough to know that I’ll always be honest with you. So no, I don’t think you look like a bad person to kiss.”

The words gave him brief comfort and a smile is fighting its way on his lips. “Thanks. Though, I don’t think I’d be that great at it anyway.” He shrugs and this only piques your curiosity more.

“Howcome?”

Again, he fidgets a little before letting out a small sigh at his confession. “I’ve never kissed anyone. A proper kiss that is.”

Echo's confession about his lack of experience in kissing catches you off guard. You had assumed that he had dated or been in some kind of romantic relationship before, given his charming personality and good looks. But as he stands before you, vulnerable and honest, you can't help but feel a sense of compassion towards him.

Echo shifts his weight from one foot to another, as if unsure of how you would react to his confession. You can see the slight furrow in his brow and the way his lips purse as he contemplates the words to say next. His vulnerability tugs at your heartstrings, and you take a deep breath before speaking.

"Wow, I didn't know that. But it's okay, Echo. You don't have to be a great kisser right off the bat. It takes practice, and I'm sure with the right person, you'll be amazing."

As Echo's gaze meets yours, you sense a palpable tension between the two of you. It's as if you share an unspoken understanding that transcends the bounds of your platonic friendship, one that leaves you questioning whether there might be something more between you. But before you can dwell on these thoughts for too long, you hear yourself utter the words, "I'd be happy to teach you."

Your words take Echo aback, and he seems surprised by your willingness to help him with something so intimate. “You would?”

Your own eyes begin to widen, the reality of your words hitting home. But you're not about to back down now. "S-sure," you squeak, quickly clearing your throat to hide the nerves that were now bubbling, "I mean, we're friends, right? I'm sure you'd do the same for me."

As Echo ponders your offer, he realises that you're right. You've always been there for him, and the thought of not returning the favor is unthinkable. Supposedly it makes things better too that he finds you were impossibly beautiful and wearing that pretty floral dress he really liked. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a shaky exhale, Echo stands up straight and takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what's to come. He's grateful that he managed to brush his teeth earlier that morning, before any of the others hogged up the refresher. "How do you want to do this?" he asks, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Your mind races, considering your options. You hadn't expected Echo to be so agreeable to the idea, and now you find yourself at a loss for words. "Um, well," you stammer, "do you want to just go ahead and reenact how your date went? And kiss me on the cheek?"

Echo's expression darkens at the suggestion. He doesn't want to relive that somewhat painful memory, but if it means learning from his mistakes, he's willing to give it a shot. "Sure," he concedes with a slight frown, "why not?"

You approach Echo with a hesitant step, feeling a flutter in your chest as you meet his gaze. His eyes hold a certain shyness, and you can sense the weight of his request hanging in the air between you. You take a deep breath and muster up the courage to speak with a slight mischievous grin dancing at the corners of your lips. Your voice tinged with a playful sweetness. "Well, Echo, I do appreciate you walking me back to my place," you tease, relishing the opportunity to poke fun at your friend's chivalry.

Echo looks momentarily confused, but he quickly catches on and chuckles at your literal interpretation of the situation. "I don't think they ever said it like that," he remarks, his amusement evident.

You roll your eyes, but your smile remains, and you lower your voice, adopting a more serious tone. "Say, Echo," you say, your eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter, "I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you for walking me back to my place."

Echo shakes his head, an adoring look in his eyes. You always knew how to effortlessly charm him with your humor. But, he knows there's something he needs to address. "Of course," he says softly but resolutely.

As Echo gathers his courage, you patiently wait, your hands tucked behind your back. You can tell he's nervous about kissing you, even on the cheek.

You watch as he tentatively reaches out to touch you, trying to remember how he kissed his date. But this time, he finds himself oddly wanting to impress you.

When he reaches out, his fingers trace over the fabric of your dress on your waist. A surge of warmth shoots through you, and you take a small step closer to him as if he was inviting you closer. His breath is heavy, and your heart races as you spot him staring at your lips… instead of your cheek.

"Echo," you say softly, hoping to bring him back to reality.

"Sorry, I, uh—" Echo stammers, his mind racing with uncertainty. For a moment, you worry that he might back away, but you take a deep breath and speak up.

"Just kiss me," you say, voice barely above a whisper as you lean in until your nose brushes against his.

Echo swallows nervously, stealing a quick glance at your lips once more before meeting your gaze. "Where?" his voice was almost silent. It was as if the obvious place you suggested to him had vanished and you find yourself not minding it at all.

You hold your nerve and ever so slightly, not quite sure what possessed or was possessing you, lean closer until your lips ghost over him and watch him with a steady gaze. “Wherever feels right for you.”

He couldn't resist any longer, the temptation too great as he leaned in to capture your lips in a quick embrace. The kiss was sweet, yet intense, sending shivers down your spine and causing your mind to go hazy with an unknown desire. The feel of his lips on yours was electric, igniting a spark deep within you that you never knew existed for him. His eyes were tightly knitted shut, afraid that you may turn around and sock him one but he was pretty certain you were kissing him back.

As he pulled back, breathless and eager for your response, you found yourself lost in the moment, unable to speak. Your face felt hot as you looked down at your shoes, struggling to find the right words to say. Everything about this moment felt different, as if something had shifted irrevocably between you both.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Echo finally spoke, his voice thick with emotion. "How was that?" he asked, his eyes still closed, as if he was afraid to see your reaction. He may have thought about kissing you once or twice, naturally. He just never knew it would happen quite like this.

Your face felt like it was on fire and you found yourself looking down at your shoes. “It was nice… your date was missing out.” You reply, almost stiff.

There was a certain type of emotion that hung on your words that you didn’t quite know yourself.

Echo licked his lips inconspicuously, savoring the taste of your fruity lip balm that lingered on his tongue. "At least I know I'm not a bad kisser," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

You laughed softly, the sound ringing like music in the quiet cockpit. "Definitely not," you replied, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

As you looked up at him, you could feel his gaze burning into you, as if he was seeing you for the first time. You were everything perfect in the galaxy, and his grip on your waist tightened just a little bit more, as if he never wanted to let you go.

In a moment of boldness, Echo's scomp came up to cradle your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Your eyes locked, and you were lost in each other, the galaxy around you fading away until it was just the two of you. There were no words, no movement, just the intensity of your gazes. “How do I show that I want to do more then?”

As the heat between you and Echo intensifies, he challenges you with another kiss, pushing the boundaries to see how far he can take you. Your smile gives away your desire, and you whisper a command, "Maybe, bring them closer."

Echo doesn't hesitate, his arm wraps around your lower back, drawing you close in a swift motion. Chest to chest, his breath washes over your face, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "And then?" he prods, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes close as you succumb to the moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of Echo's low tone. "I-I suppose you just kiss them again, but a little longer."

So he does. Feverish and intense with a passion that ignites your senses. Your heart beats wildly, consumed by the sensation of his lips moving in perfect harmony with yours. Echo gently trails his hand up your body to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss, and you gasp, lost in the intoxicating sensation. When he pulls away to gauge your reaction, he almost chuckles when he spots you leaning into him, chasing his lips. To your glee, he kisses you swiftly and you let out the faintest of moans in his mouth.

Echo's lips against yours are soft, and you can feel the warmth of his breath as he murmurs a phrase that sends a shiver down your spine. "Oh cyare," he purrs, and you're suddenly jolted back to reality. Your heart races, and you feel a wave of anxiety wash over you.

You pull away, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head. "We shouldn't be doing this," you tell him.

Echo looks shaken, his expression concerned as he fears he may have overstepped the mark. "Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?" he asks.

You shake your head, feeling a twinge of guilt as you pull away from Echo's embrace. "I'm sorry, Echo. We shouldn't be doing this. I'm supposed to be teaching you how to kiss for other dates," you explain.

Echo tilts his head, sensing your unease. But the thought of you possibly being jealous makes his heart skip a beat, and he realises this may be the right moment to lay everything on the line. "What if there are no other dates?" he asks softly.

You blink in surprise, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he approaches you again, his flesh hand cupping your cheek, thumb tracing over your delicate skin, "what if I just want to kiss you?” He lowers his voice, afraid to break the tension. “What if I want to date you?"

Shock is written all over your face, and you can't help melting into his touch once more. "But I thought we were just friends," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Echo chews on the inside of his cheek before admitting, "I don't think 'just friends' want to kiss each other, do they?" He uttered, voice almost vibrating against you.

Your heart flutters in your chest, and a heat pools in your lower stomach. "No," you shudder, feeling the intensity of his gaze. "I suppose they don't."

He smiles coyly, and his lips gently trace along your jawline, edging towards your ear. "Then let me kiss you. Let me give you anything you want."

As his lips touch your ear, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your body, and your mind is filled with conflicting emotions. But most of them were primarily focused on how he pushes you against the control panel.

You whimper under his touch, both of your hands coming up to clasp his cheeks as you guide his lips back onto yours. Your lips meet in a fiery kiss, and your teeth clash, but neither of you seems to care.

In a moment of need, his lips assault yours as he presses you down so your back hits at the buttons and switches, sandwiched between your legs.

"Echo," you groan his name into his mouth before he playfully bites at your lower lip. Your legs press against his outer thighs and around his waist and you crumble into a mewling mess once you feel his hand slide up under your dress, caressing at your thigh.

He stands up straight for a moment, admiring how you’re displayed beautifully on the control panel just for him. His eyes roamed your body, growing warm at how your dress hugged your body wonderfully and how your chest heaved beneath it, highlighting your breasts.

“Did I ever tell you that I love this dress on you?”

You blush deeply as he massages your skin, feeling the heat building between your legs. "No," you rasp, eyelids heavy with lust.

“Shame,” he chuckles, moving his lips down to your neck now, starting to suck and bite that sweet spot that your body perfectly reacts to - arching up into him. “Although, I wouldn’t mind seeing it on the floor one day.”

You chew on your lower lip, whimpering and moaning in pleasure as he leaves marks all over your neck and collarbones. Surprisingly, you find yourself not even caring if the others saw it. The pleasure you are getting is far too great to tell Echo to stop.

When he pulls back, panting and trying so hard to ignore the tent in his pants, he gazes down at you, his eyes dance with adoration. “You’re so beautiful, cyare.”

You're panting a little, causing his eyes to flicker between your chest and your eyes with a smile. “As are you. And a very, very good kisser.”

You don’t know what was going to happen from then on but for now, you just savored the feeling of Echo leaning down to kiss you, tongue begging for entrance at your lips.

Masterlist

More Echo Works

#bad batch echo #tbb echo #the bad batch echo x reader #bad batch echo x reader #bad batch echo x you #tbb echo x reader #nahoney22 writes #the bad batch

393 notes · View notes

eggyboyoart · 1 year

Text

Domestic Bliss

CW: Todoroki’s terrible cooking (I don’t care if he can cook in canon, this is MY WORLD and I’ll do whatever I want with him-), theres a lot of slang and meme talk, nose injury ig?? Todoroki wearing an apron and being domestic and cute :D, mentions of vomit, trying really heard not to gag or throw up, tears, being in mental/physical anguish bc of bad cooking.

WORD COUNT: approx. 1800 words, second person

Summary: You’re already having a shitty morning, what else could go wrong? ...Todoroki’s cooking, that’s what.

Good morning.

Well, considering that you fell face first out of bed, good morning is probably inaccurate.

Your stomach rumbles as you stumble out of your dorm room, your eyes bleary, mind still fuzzy with sleep. and nose aching painfully from its sudden meeting with the floor.

You curse to yourself as you make your way to the dorm's kitchen, hoping that a warm breakfast (hopefully made by Bakugou) will make your morning somewhat better.

Your hand comes up to rub your throbbing nose as you shuffle into the dining space, seeing your beloved classmates. They all greet you with various degrees of enthusiasm and sleepiness.

You feel your mood brighten slightly as you see Mina peak her head around the corner of the kitchen and look at you.

You feel your mood suddenly drop when you see how awkward and sort of filled with dread? she looks.

You stop in your tracks as your pink haired friend pulls her head back behind the wall of the kitchen and whisper something incoherent. Oh God, what is she doing? You're not in the mood for silly goofy shenanigans right now.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion when she comes back out and walks toward you, slinging her arm around your shoulders and stretches out her words with a sleezy tone.

"Heeyy, my awesome, epic slay bestie. How are youu? Have a good morning so far?" Mina averts her eyes suspiciously as you stare her down for her strange behaviour. You sigh as you pout and rub your nose.

"Shit. It was shit, Mina. I fell off the bed and smacked my nose into the ground. God, I'm surprised it’s not bleeding” Mina cringes for a moment, looking very sorry for you as she leans in closer to whisper to you.

"Well, your morning is about to get a whole lot worse" She grimaces before explaining further.

"A special someone who is near and dear to your heart is cooking you breakfast," Your eyes widen for a moment and your heart flutters, quickly looking around to see if anyone is listening in before whispering out the name.

"Todoroki? is cooking me breakfast?" You look at Mina in disbelief as your thoughts run wild and your heart beats heavily in your chest. Todoroki? The love of your life and your future husband? (He doesn’t know it yet, but he is). He’s making you breakfast?

“That- That’s great! OMG, he’s solidifying his role as my house husband. Why would that make my morning worse?” You smile brightly, with a mood lifted so high, your nose doesn’t even hurt anymore. Mina looks at you for a moment, an unreadable look on her face. She opens and closes her mouth a few times before whispering.

“…the food that he’s making, it-… it looks alive. Its like, burnt but also raw at the same time?” Mina looks at you with an unpleasant look on her face. You let out a nervous chuckle and ask cautiously, your eyes narrowing and smile fading slightly.

“Oh. come on. Surely It can’t be that bad, right?” You let out a small chuckle again as you keep looking at her. The smile fades off your face as her face does not change from its dread-filled cringe. Mina’s eyes flicker to the kitchen behind you both. She slowly turns her gaze back to you. She bites her lip and shakes her head gently. Your face drops into a deadpan stare and you point your finger at her weakly.

“Say sike right now. Say sike, right. Now” Mina shakes her head more firmly as you vehemently deny the truth.

“He can’t cook for shit- “

“You’re lying- “

“I’m sorry, babe. No bi-coloured house husband for you- “

“SAY SIKE- “

“[Name], you’re awake.” Both your and Mina’s heads whip around to face the new voice. Todoroki stands there in a navy-blue apron with a dirty, batter-covered whisk in hand. The apron is covered in flour and what you assume is eggs? (at least, you hope) and his hair is slicked back with one of Mina’s ‘self-care’ headbands. You feel the air briefly leave your lungs as you take in how domestic he looks, with his cute little apron and messy, pulled back hair, his heterochromatic eyes looking at you so eagerly-

You also feel the air actually leave your lungs when Mina jabs her elbow into your ribs. You keel over and clutch the abused spot on your torso as Mina greets Todoroki.

“Heyy, ‘roki. I got [Name], just like you wanted. Though, class starts soon. We might not have time for breakfast.” Mina chuckles nervously as you give a weak nod in agreement. If Mina is trying to save you from this fate, then its most likely for good reason.

“oh” Todoroki looks down for a moment before speaking softly, “...I was really looking forward to seeing you try it…”.

…

Fuck good reason and fuck Mina.

“I’ll try it!” You chirp out, much to the delight of Todoroki and the absolute, unfathomable horror of Mina. Todoroki looks at you with eager eyes.

“Really? You’ll try it?” Todoroki takes a half step forward, looking at you with gentle enthusiasm. (as enthusiastic as Todoroki can get). You nod fearlessly, pointedly avoiding Mina’s petrified stare into the side of your head.

“Yeah, I bumped my nose, so I’ll have to go see recovery girl- I’ll be late anyway so I’ll try it, yeah” Todoroki nods in response and takes a few steps back and begins to turn away, back to presumably get the food you will be consuming.

“Take a seat at the table, I’ll bring it out to you”. You let out a ‘mhm’ in agreement and unashamedly avoid Mina’s gaze as you plop down into an empty seat at the dining table. Mina stares a hole into your head as you stare into the table, sweating at the intensity of her glare.

Todoroki comes back quickly and places a plate down in front of you and for a second, you feel nothing. Your expression is blank as you observe what is there.

…oh.

…Mina was right

It…

It looks… alive??

There are no words to describe the amalgamation on the plate before you. You gape, slack jawed and eyes wide at this… thing?? as Todoroki presents it and places it on the table in front of you.

You observe it, terrified, for a moment (why is it purple?), trying to figure out the best way to approach such a beast (WHY IS IT MOVING??).

From your peripherals, you see Mina staring at it too with her face turning more and more horrified as the seconds tick past.

You slowly turn your head to look at Todoroki, eyes wide as you take in his expression.

He looks so… excited.

Well, as excited as his usually stoic and blank expression can look.

He looks so, so eager for you to try this.

For you to like it.

…

…for you to like him.

…

Damn it…

You take a deep breath in, then suddenly, faster than anyone in the room can follow with their eyes, you scoop some of the ooze onto your fork and shove it into your mouth.

…

…oh

…

Oh.

Oh No.

Oh God.

You have never been more grateful to be in the hero course because it takes every ounce of strength in your entire body to not immediately throw up.

How is it wet AND dry at the same time??

Its vile.

You don’t even have a chance to even try and chew before it completely dissolves into liquid in your mouth. There are dry lumps of something? In it.

Its rancid.

Your eyes start watering as you take in the taste.

There are no words to describe it other than,

disgusting.

Pure, foul, putrid-

You turn your watery gaze to Todoroki, and he looks back. His eyes are wide with anticipation, and you hear his breath hitch quietly.

You take a deep inhale in (bad choice, you smell it now),

…

You force your face to go completely blank as you weakly lift a hand up.

A weak thumbs up.

…

His smile is almost enough for you to forget the taste of death.

The smallest, proud little grin splits across Todoroki’s face as he lets out a relieved sigh. He looks beautiful. His expression goes blank again as he coughs into his hand and speaks, a small, barely noticeable blush on his cheeks. Oh, that blush-

“I’m glad that you like it” He looks at you, with the same small smile and you almost feel like it was worth it. You nod stiffly, feeling as if the second you open your mouth, you will begin to projectile vomit. Your mouth twists into a painful grimace smile as you nod.

Todoroki keeps looking at you for a moment before one of Todoroki’s friends- Midoriya or Iida, you assume, you can’t hear well over the ringing in your ears from the sheer force of trying not to gag-

Todoroki turns his gaze back to you as you attempt to swallow (unsuccessfully). He looks at you with those gentle, beautiful eyes and asks softly.

“I’ll see you for afternoon classes, right? Maybe we can sit next to each other?” You nod stiffly again, unable to do anything but sit there, lest you begin to violently throw up.

He turns away and leaves with his group of friends.

Your throat burns and your eyes follow Todoroki as he begins the walk to the school campus, friends in tow. Your eyes water as you just sit there, Mina standing over you with a horrified expression.

You think back to the smile Todoroki gave you. A delicate, kind thing for you and you alone.

Even though your nose still hurts like a bitch, and your taste buds are dying as we speak, your mood lightens ever so slightly and you don’t regret a thing.

Despite how the morning started (with a face full of wooden floor) and how its just now ended (a mouthful of burnt, yet still undercooked 'breakfast' and tears forming in your eyes), your lips still twitch into a smile against your agonised, pained will.

Mina comfortingly pats you on the shoulder as a single, pain-filled tear runs down your cheek.

God damn, the things you do for love.

164 notes · View notes

absolutebl · 11 months

Note

Hi!

I love your Blog and love to read your takes in everything. So thank you so much for all your Posts and thoughts about the industry etc.

Here is my question: i came across one of your posts where you wrote "actually gay, not bl gay" (it was a Post about Jojo and Only Friends) and while I FELT that I TOTALLY understood what you meant and instantly was like "yes 100% clear" Id love to read and learn more about what this means exactly and why some bls feel quite heteronormative while some dont. Would you mind explain the take on "actually gay Not Bl gay" a little bit? And why some Shows feel just more queer than others (besides the unbelievable stupid "gay only for you" trope lol)

Thank you so much and I hope you will have a nice day!

actually gay, not bl gay

There's actually quite a discourse on this right now mostly originating with @waitmyturtles and @wen-kexing-apologist (Post @killiru references above is here.)

I tend to mostly talk about this in broad brush strokes as a queer lens.

But there's a great ven diagram (which of course I've lost the link to) that approaches the idea of and queer lens by tunneling into its approach and intent:

about queers

by queers

for queers

How do different BLs intersect in different ways with these three elements?

When I said "actually gay, not BL gay" I was alluding to this discourse. Specifically the "about queers" category of BL.

There are characters in BL who read as genuinely gay (as in belonging to the queer family of this terrible reality we live in) and then there are those that seem more performative (to exist in a bubble of fantasy were sexual identity is almost unimportant, only the romance matters, everything is safe sweetness & light). For some queers this can read as manipulative or even exploitive (because it is inauthentic to most queer experiences). For me, it's fine... even desirable. I like the safe bubble. I enjoy the utter delusional escapism of it. Sometimes I will call this sanitized gay. (Since it is designed to make gay palatable to non-gay identified folks e.g. seme/uke.)

A sanitized gay BL may be unintentional but it is nested in origin yaoi and mm romance whose target market has never been the queer community, and whose authors have historically not been members of it, either.

Let's be frank, we queers are generally a terrible target market, we don't have enough spending power - especially not for a piece of pop culture as niched as BL. And as creators we really want our voices to be heard (obvs), which makes us produce content that those unsympathetic or uncaring find uncomfortable. (Yes, I know, fuck them, but also, they have all the money and the entertainment industry is a numbers game.)

So in the arena of office romances, just as an example:

actually gay = The New Employee

sanitized gay = Our Dating Sim

actual gay = Step By Step

sanitized gay = A Boss And a Babe

All of the above have the same tropes, archetypes, and premises. All of them are BL. Some are just... queerer feeling than others. And the characters in those shows (Step by Step and The New Employee) read as more "actually gay."

This has nothing to do with the actors, chemsitry, or how much we may personally like the show (Our Dating Sim is one of my absolute favorite BLs). It has to do with how closely those CHARACTERS intersect with the reality of queerness as we inhabit it today. It will be lots of little touches given to the drama by director and script:

language use,

surrounding friendships (and friendship style),

mannerisms and physicality (specially body language around straights vs other queer characters),

makeup & wardrobe,

facial expressions,

surrounding queer-coded behaviors by side characters,

layers of story nuance that indicate a complicated queer-driven back story.

Markers of specifically a queer identity are given to the leads.

These kinds of BLs are satisfying the "about queers" category. ("By queers" can be difficult to extract because IRL outting is involved. "For queers" is the rarest kind of BL, because making something specifically for us often alienates the majority of the rest of viewership/market. I could be argued that SCOY did this.)

I'm sure I've missed things, but I hope that kinda makes sense?

By/For/About discourse from @wen-kexing-apologist here:

Parts 1

Part 2

Part 3

I'm indebted to them for the links!

More Queer Stuff from Yours Truly

BL Linguistics & Queer Identity - I Am Gay versus I Like Men

Will BL Get More Honestly Queer?

Queer lens (from the director) and chemistry (from the actors) in BL (A Tale of Thousand Stars)

Touch & Daisy in Secret Crush On You - Queer Coded Language and 3rd Gender Identity

BL in Taiwan & Gay Marriage

Debating Queerbaiting in BL ( + Devil Judge... is it queerbaiting?)

BL Actors and the Assumption of Queerness - outing actors, coming out, being out, more: Is that BL actor actually queer?

So is it really fetishization? straight women loving bl

Some BL fans are sasaengs, and it’s a problem in this fandom

BLs That Highlight How Society Treats Queers

10 BLs That Are Honest to a Queer Experience

(source)

#asked and answered #bl and queer identity #intersection between BL and queer stories #about queers by queers for queers #thai bl #korean bl #the new employee #step by step the series #actually gay #not bl gay #actually gay not bl gay #BL university

143 notes · View notes

insult-2-injury · 1 year

Text

The First Unkindness - Chapter 1

Time Travel Fem Reader x Zandik (set in Akademiya days)

With a strike intended to kill, Il Dottore sends you flying back through time, where you find yourself face to face with the first, but no less sinister version of himself.

AO3 Link, 3k wc, eventual smut, eventual romance, slow burn, enemies to lovers

Chapter 1

You suppose you should’ve known something was off when the chatty shopkeep stopped talking for even a split second. When the unstoppered commotion of the Sumeru marketplace plummeted before suddenly picking up again, like a radio dial spun quickly back and forth; tuning in.

But it was just a glitch in time, you’d thought, hopeful. One of those funny little moments when reality and memory collide. Deja vu, they called it, so strong it rocked you sideways. Yes, just that; you thought until seconds later, the shopkeep dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, and complete silence suffused the din.

You froze, one arm still outstretched, an apple clutched in your palm so shiny you thought perhaps if you squinted hard enough, you could see the approach of your own reckoning from behind.

Fear was a strange thing; had you numbly taking the time to bag the rest of your purchases before turning stiffly. The warm glow of lanterns bathing cobblestone that had seemed so friendly in the bustle seemed now to cast an eerie spotlight on the figures. Dozens of prone forms littered the ground, some of them bent at odd angles, their full weight having crashed down suddenly and without warning.

An unnaturally cold gust of air bit into your cheeks.

Well, you thought, you suppose you should’ve known better; staying in Sumeru any longer than you ought. You recalled when you’d moved here from your tiny little village just outside Gandharva Ville; when the hope of a bright future at Akademiya had eclipsed the sight of the rot beneath it all. This place was a utopia once. Not anymore.

You were headed somewhere where there were no monsters beneath the floorboards, where the worst creature that could lunge from the shadows was a Rishboland tiger.

But the current foe did not lunge, he crept toward you with an undue ease.

The Fatui harbinger tucked a device neatly into his jacket pocket, walking with the slimy confidence of someone who had laid his groundwork precisely and was here to reap his reward.

Il Dottore. The Doctor. You never had seen him in person. And Archons, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him, every inch of his countenance built to scream of power. An intricately patterned gray overcoat over a cobalt shirt crowned with a gold-lined cravat. Black pants slimming down into opulent, intimidating boots of the same colors. Everything about him was jagged and deadly; from the knife-edged slant of his jaw drawing into a pointed chin to the sharp, hawk-like beak of his mask – something that did little to hide the ghost of smirking lips beneath. An unruly head of steel blue hair sprouted and fell in almost lazy curls to frame his face.

Following him were two Fatui soldiers.

“So you managed to retain consciousness. Bravo.”

Your blood ran cold at the timbre of his voice, smooth and rumbling as a far-off storm. “Although I do find myself wondering how that is…”

He continued. “The pitch produced by this device is wholly indiscernible to the human ear. Oh, let’s call it something tantamount to an amplified dog whistle. ” Dottore spoke derisively, like he was trying to explain the concept of sound to a simpleminded commoner. Your heart started up a terrible rhythm as his voice lowered in mock seriousness. “It would require a great deal of mental endeavor for even one with the gaze of the gods to withstand such a blow to their Akasha, but, unless I’m mistaken, you’ve been gifted with no such vision.”

“You’re not mistaken,” you confirmed. “Will they die?”

“Who?”

Your eye twitched.

“Ah. All these delightful people, you mean.” You swore you saw a flash of razor sharp teeth. “Why, they are merely asleep.”

Archons, he was a villain in the truest sense of the word. You gnawed the inside of your cheek, a profound hatred melding with anxiety to create a nauseating brew in the pit of your stomach.

“Well, what do you want?”

He hummed almost appreciatively. “So forward, I’d almost admire your brashness if it weren’t coupled with a shocking lack of observance. A little forethought and you could have been miles away by now. Imagine.” The corner of his lips creased wickedly.

“Imagine,” you retorted with a boldness you didn’t feel, fingers ticking on the apple in your palm.

“Tell me, driyosh, what did inspire you to rewire your terminal?” His voice was too light, too inviting. “Moreso, what could have possibly motivated you to flee the city at such a time?”

Dottore was toying with you like a cat would a mouse. You were nothing but a ball of yarn between his sharp claws as he batted you around for information he most certainly already had. And by the smirk on his face, he knew you knew that there was nothing to do but buy time.

You spoke carefully.

“To be honest, I don’t find my values… aligning with the Akademiya anymore.”

“Your values? Hm.” His dark, rolling chuckle accused you of more than any words could. You felt a tingling heat creep to your cheeks and you swallowed down a wave of humiliation. “We’re fast approaching a new era of enlightenment; I do think most would call your judgment into question.”

“Yeah, well…” You bit out, tilting your head toward the sea of unconscious forms. “Seems not everybody’s in their right minds these days.”

Dottore smirked. Your hand itched to grab the gun hidden at your side, but doing so would be a certified death sentence. A shot of electro, devastating to most, wouldn’t hold water to whatever sort of power he must hold to have been crowned a Fatui harbinger.

You knew when it came down to it, the power imbalance was all too inequitable. He didn’t seem the type to expend time and energy going after the insignificant himself, though; which meant to some degree, however miniscule, you posed a threat. But how to appease a Fatui harbinger on a mission? Perhaps you just had to keep him talking. Easy enough, you thought, he seemed to very much enjoy the sound of his own voice.

“Besides, propaganda is a powerful tool,” you stalled, toying with the apple within your sweating palms. “And is it so bad to want to dream, anyway? I’m not the first to mess with my terminal and I likely won’t be the last. Does all this really warrant arrest now?”

Do the matra have nothing better to do than to send a Fatui harbinger to do their grunt work? No, you knew better than to think this had anything to do with your tampering with your terminal. This was only the first rap of his knuckles against your proverbial egg shell.

“Oh? Are you so important to warrant an arrest?” he responded simply, head cocking.

A shock of fear, cold and electric crept your spine at the implication. You blinked. You hadn’t considered the possibility of your life ending right here where you stood. He’d brought a hydro and a cryogunner, which you thought had spoken of intent to capture, but the two of them stood almost completely useless behind him, and who were you to guess the motive of a madman?

You couldn’t help the stomach-sinking feeling that he’d only brought them to confuse; to tease. Your gaze turned back to the sharp void of his mask. Steeling yourself, you took a breath.

“Why don’t you wear your Akasha, then, Doctor?” you asked and his chin lowered slightly at the use of his epithet. You relaxed your shoulders as much as you could. “Don’t you want access to the arcane wisdom of our new god? Don’t you dream, then? And is dreaming not the personification of irrational thought, of unintelligence? ” His lips were all you could see, but the small grin at your sardonic tone was almost playful as you mimicked the words of the Akademiya’s most recent decree. You swallowed down a ball of nerves, a flicker of hope alight in your chest at his seemingly genuine amusement, however feline. “People become so dredged up in it all, they don’t stop to think where their dreams are going – or just who is listening to them.”

“Oh, they do think,” he responded simply, “but like you said, propaganda is a powerful tool.”

Dottore raised a gloved hand to signal his soldiers to stay put and stepped toward you alone, hands falling behind his back, terrifyingly casual. Your lower back met the rickety wooden cart behind you with a thud as you jarred away from his slow approach. His lips curled slightly but he surprisingly did not push further, halting at a conversational distance.

“You do pose a fair question, I suppose. But alas, what is the worth of a dream to the sleepless? Perhaps there is a tormented segment of myself who does still dream,” he said indifferently, “I just don’t care enough to ask. In any case, I am not one of them.”

You frowned. Segments?

“And I will go ahead and infer from the spirit of this conversation that you don’t approve of my scientific methods here in Sumeru. I’ll be the first to call into question the Akademiya’s more… rigid history.” His voice dropped, the words formed around a sharp smile, like he was letting you in on a private joke. “But when the old ways have been set in stone, when the rot of a bygone era travels deep, the creation that rises from the floorboards must serve as a symbol of power. Of wisdom.”

The word sounded so ridiculously insincere you could have laughed.

“You don’t really mean that,” you dared.

Dottore studied you but did not respond to your doubt, one corner of his lips curling slowly into a sinister grin, filling you with a sudden, heart-pounding anticipation.

“And what of your involvement, driyosh?” he said lowly.

You licked your lips, a fresh wave of panic slithering through your veins. “I felt just a tad… just a tad deceived, I guess.”

“Do elaborate.”

You observed him.

The work had started out light; unassuming. Everyday tasks handed down to you from the Grand Sage: tedious things like hunting down borderline ancient research papers or transferring messages across Akademiya grounds – frustrating, admittedly, for a gunslinging driyosh with a thesis paper to write. But further requests had you descending into madness; Azar’s requests for you to sketch out blueprints for a bigger and better weapon. One that could harvest latent elements from the world around it, transfer it into a clean source of elemental energy.

But for what? And why? For who? The questions were endless and the potential for misuse even more so, but… you were interested in the work. Couldn’t help yourself. And to be seemingly taken both under the wing and into the good graces of the Grand Sage was no common feat. So you continued.

That is… until the rumor came of the awakening god beneath the floorboards. Of the sighting of a Fatui harbinger. Oh, it must’ve felt such vacuous gossip to those who’d followed Akademiya’s orders and left their terminals on permanently. But to those like yourself, who had caught on a hair too late to the Akademiya’s betrayal, the knowledge latched on with a terrible sense of trepidation. Something was coming. Something bad.

And you’d been able to do nothing but slow its progression.

You cleared your throat and continued. “Me thinking I was anything but a puppet to the Akademiya. Thinking the Grand Sage chose me for my talent over simple convenience.” You shrugged through the rush of anger that stung your cheeks, pulling your lips into a small frown. “I should never have gotten involved.”

“Oh, don’t pity yourself so,” he said, disapproval coloring his tone. “After all, you’ve made quite a name for yourself, haven’t you. Star pupil of Spantamad; remarkable aptitude in biomechanical weaponry.” You narrowed your eyes, his praise unexpected and holding a wormy, underhanded cut of ridicule. “The gods deprived you of your own vessel of release, so you created your own.”

He nodded subtly to the hidden guns holstered at your side and you tensed. “An elemental destabilizer. Not the first of its kind, no, but mildly impressive for one so young as you. You did grab my attention for a short while, I will say– so impulsive to throw yourself into a project with so few questions; so little understanding of the desired outcome. No, you just wanted to be of use. And you were, weren’t you? Yes, for every blind inch Azar granted you, you took a mile. To that end, I do applaud you.”

Your cheeks blazed at his disparagement, feeling like a tiny ant amidst the cobblestones under his derisive gaze. You suppose you shouldn’t have been surprised it was the Doctor that had chosen you by hand, considering what you’d recently come to learn of his proclivities.

“It is a shame you never saw the potential in scaling up your craft,” he said, “but you did have your uses.”

“Thank you,” you bit out.

Dottore hummed. “...Anyhow.” His gloved fingers tapped against his biceps in thought. “I do grow tired of inconsequential chatter. It’s about time we get to the point.” He took a step forward and with a lazy flourish of his wrist, two massive needles materialized out of thin air, floating idly on either side of his head. You choked on a gasp and pressed backward.

You stared in wide-eyed horror.

“You started asking questions, driyosh,” he said simply.

"N-no." There was no getting out. There was no capture. His intent was abundantly clear. "P lease.” Your voice was small and crackling and even in all your terror, you found yourself despising how weak you sounded begging.

Your hand flexed toward your thigh. Your heart plunged in your chest before shooting to your throat like a fist punching upward. Dottore matched every panicked step of yours backward with an easy one of his own and you blanched as the needles caught the light of a nearby streetlamp.

Someone wake up. Someone wake up and stop him. Stop him.

“Stop! Stop. Let me explain–”

“As a scholar, first and foremost, I did admire your tenacity, your determination to uncover the truth… but thwarting plans, dredging up information that didn’t belong to you. And now leaving. ” He tsked in mock offense. “Such potential wasted.”

The world tilted. Breath became scarce.

Funny, a little. How the brain slowed to such mire when faced with its own reckoning. You’d always assumed it would work the opposite; blood thrumming with that kind of hopeless adrenaline that had mothers lifting carts off their children. And it certainly did, for a moment in time.

But then…no. It slowed. Like a fuse that had burned too hot and too quick; a half-crazed fear easing between the breadth of a single step into a strange, cold rationality. Two pairs of boots clicked on cobblestone as he backed you across cobblestone. Your eyes caught on the eerie red gleam reflecting off the front of his mask from something behind you.

“Dottore–”

“I really am sorry things had to end like this,” he continued, “but everyone must pay the price for what they learn. Although, it is a poor turn of luck for you that he sent me, I must say. I rather think another segment would’ve found you charming enough to keep around for a day or two.”

You were never going to make it out and if you did, the things he had in store for you were far more unpleasant than death. Fuck him. Fuck this project. And fuck this city.

Your hand reached to wrap the handle of your gun and you watched as his lips twitched down in disapproval, as if he were disappointed you’d fallen back on such base methods.

"To a new era-"

You managed to get a single shot off before a needle slammed through your shoulder, blood a soft spatter on the ground behind as your arm ripped. And for a moment, as you stumbled backward, all you could do was stare at him, eyes wide in shock before an impossible pain had your knees collapsing beneath you.

“You said earlier you weren’t content being a puppet," he snarled between his teeth, "I wanted to properly test that theory.” With a cold twitch of his head, the second needle crashed into your other shoulder, launching your limp body backward. Your back hit hard stone and you couldn’t tell which of them cracked upon impact. Ah, an ancient waypoint, that's what you'd hit, your mind peculiarly filled in the blanks as a strange cerulean flash of light enveloped you upon the devastating collision.

So this was dying; bright colors and sounds all amalgamating into a blur of unfiltered agony. Thoughts flashing before you of not what you could’ve done with your life, but what you could’ve done with his if you’d just pulled your gun out fast enough. You would've killed him. You wanted to kill him.

Blood rushed in your ears, your pulse pounded in your neck and you could feel it all, your world filtering and narrowing into its simplest form. Vines like arms stretched from the ground to wrap you in their viselike grip, pulling you down, down, down.

To a new era of enlightenment, you thought, before it all went dark.

Hey pals, thanks for reading! I hope you like what I have in store - lots of spice but hold the nice. I'd love to hear what you thought of the first chapter. Stay weird. ~ Sulty

#dottore genshin #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore #il dottore #genshin impact

200 notes · View notes