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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

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The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 27

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 27 - This Venerable One Will Cook You A Bowl of Noodles

Chu Wanning felt completely faint.

He blamed himself for being so distracted and unsuspecting on Life-Death Peak. He didn't even notice someone come over.

What was going on? Where did this child come from? His last name was Mo, but Mo. . . what was is again. . . ? Mo Shao? Mo Zhu? Mo. . . Yu?

He composed himself and put on an expression that screamed: "get away". The surprise and panic in his phoenix eyes were quickly masked by his usual harsh and threatening demeanour.

"You—"

He raised his hand out of habit to discipline him, but something suddenly caught his wrist.

Chu Wanning was stunned.

He had been around for a while yet no one had ever dared grab his wrist so casually. For a while, he was frozen in place, not knowing what he should do.

Pull it away and give him a backhanded slap?

. . . It felt like a good word to describe that would be "indecent," like he was no different from a woman in this situation.

Then pull his hand away and not slap him?

. . . Wouldn't that seem like he was being too nice?

Chu Wanning hesitated for a long time and didn't move but the young man laughed: "What's this on your hand? It's pretty good-looking, do you teach how to make stuff like this? Everyone else has introduced themselves already but you haven't spoken yet. Which elder are you? Hey, do you have a headache?"

With so many questions thrown at him, while Chu Wanning's mind hadn't hurt before, now it did.

His mind felt like it was about to split in half. . .

As he got irritated, a golden light in his hand started to glow. When they saw that Tianwen was about to be summoned, the other elders were horrified and moved - Chu Wanning was crazy, right? He would even dare to whip Young Master Mo?

Then, Mo Ran was suddenly holding his hand.

Now Mo Ran had trapped both of his hands. Mo Ran didn't up on the danger of his situation. He pulled him closer and stood in front of him. He tilted his head and said with a smile: "My name is Mo Ran. I don't know anyone here, but just from looking at you, I like you the most. How about I worship you as my shizun, okay?"

This was completely unexpected. The people around them were even more horrified. Several elders gaped with mouths ajar.

Elder Xuanji: "Huh?"

Elder Pojun: "What!"

Elder Qisha: "Oh?"

Elder Jielu: "Uh. . ."

Elder Tanlang: "Hah, ridiculous."

Elder Lucun was the most feminine of the bunch with wavy hair and eyes flooded with peach blossoms: "Ah, this little boy is so bold. He's truly a courageous young man. He might even be so bold as to touch Elder Yuheng's ass."

". . . I beg you, can you not say something so repulsive?" Qisha said with disgust.

Lucun rolled his eyes gracefully and hummed: "Fine, let me put it more eloquently. He's truly a courageous young man. He might even be so bold as to touch Elder Yuheng's buttocks."

Qisha: ". . ." Just kill him and forget this ever happened.

The most popular of all the elders was the gentle and jade-like elder Xuanji. His techniques were easy to learn, and he was a modest gentleman. Most of the disciples on Life-Death Peak worshipped underneath him.

Chu Wanning originally thought that this Mo Ran would've been just like all the others. If not Elder Xuanji, then it should be the energetic Elder Pojun. It never should have been his turn

But Mo Ran was standing so close to him. His face showed a kind of intimacy and affection that was unfamiliar to him. He was like some clown that was just chosen. It was all so distressing for no reason.

Chu Wanning only knew how to deal with "awe", "fear" and "disgust". Something like "affection" was too complicated.

He didn't even have to think about it. He immediately rejected Mo Ran.

The young man froze. Hidden under his slender eyelashes, there was a sense of loneliness and unwillingness in his eyes. He lowered his head, thought for a second, and unreasonably muttered: "Anyways, I still choose you."

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

The Lord was watching with great interest. He piped in with a smile:, "A-Ran, do you know who he is?"

"He didn't tell me, how would I?"

"Haha, since you don't know who he is, why would you pick him?"

Mo Ran was still tugging on Chu Wanning's hands. He turned his head, smiling and said to the Lord: "Because he looks the most gentle and easiest to talk to."

In the darkness, Chu Wanning's eyes snapped open, everything appearing fuzzy.

. . . That was one hell of a scene to see.

He didn't know what the hell was wrong with Mo Ran's eyes back then to actually think that he was gentle. Not to mention that all of Life-Death Peak heard about it. They all sent affectionate greetings to Young Master Mo Ran with looks that said "look at this foolish kid".

Chu Wanning lifted his hand to the corner of his faintly throbbing forehead.

His shoulder hurt, his mind was in turmoil, his stomach was hungry, and his head was spinning.

It seemed like he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

He fumed on the bed for a while. He sat up and was about to light a stick of incense to calm his mind when suddenly there was another knock on the door.

Mo Ran was outside.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

He didn't answer. He didn't say whether to stay or leave.

But this time, the door opened by itself.

Chu Wanning looked up gloomily. The lit match in his hand hovered in mid-air but never reached the stick of incense. After a while, it went out.

Chu Wanning said: "Get out."

Mo Ran strolled in.

He was holding a steaming bowl of noodles, fresh from the pot.

This time it was a bit simpler. The noodles weren't as fancy. The rich white noodle soup was garnished with chopped green onion and white sesame seeds, small spare ribs, bok choy, and a slightly browned poached egg.

Chu Wanning was incredibly hungry but he didn't let it show on his face. He glanced at the noodles, then at Mo Ran. He turned his face away and didn't say anything.

Mo Ran put the noodles on the table, and gently said: "I asked the inn's chef to make another bowl."

Chu Wanning lowered his eyes.

Sure enough, Mo Ran didn't make this dish himself.

"Eat some." Mo Ran said. "This bowl isn't spicy, has no beef, and no bean sprouts."

After speaking, he left and closed the door for Chu Wanning on his way out.

He apologized for Chu Wanning's injury.

But he could only do so much.

In the room, Chu Wanning leaned against the window, not knowing what to think. He crossed his arms and stared at the bowl of spare rib noodles from a distance until the heat of the noodles dissipated and they grew cold.

He finally walked over and sat down. He picked up the chopsticks, stirred up the cold and soggy noodles, and slowly ate them.

The case of the Chen family's haunting had been closed.

The next day, they picked up the black horses they had boarded from inside the stables and returned to the sect the same way they had arrived.

In the streets and alleys, tea stalls and rice shops, the people of Caidie Town were all talking about the Chen family's affairs.

The not-so-small town had broken out in scandal, one large enough for the townspeople to talk about it for a whole year.

"I didn't expect that Young Master Chen had been secretly married to Miss Luo for so long. Miss Luo is so pitiful."

"If you ask me, if the Chen family hadn't gotten rich, they wouldn't be able to survive this affair. Sure enough, men can't handle their money. Once they have money, only misfortune will await them."

One man was unhappy and said: "This wasn't Young Master Chen's fault. It's his parents' fault. Mr. Chen, that son of a bitch. His children and grandchildren should only give birth to children without assholes in the future."

Another said: "The dead are pitiful but what about the living? Look at Chen Yao, Yao Qianjin. She's the one who's truly been wronged. That black-hearted mother of the Chen family deceived her. Tell me, what should she do now?"

"Just get remarried."

The man rolled his eyes and sneered: "Remarried? Are you here to get married?"

The mud-coated man who was teased bared his teeth and picked at them, grinning: "If that woman at home agrees, I'd marry her. Ms. Yao looks so beautiful, I don't mind her being a widow."

"Bah, the toad wants to eat swan meat*."

(T/N: 癩蛤蟆想吃天鵝肉 - means having unrealistic wishes or expectations)

Mo Ran sat on the back of the horse, ears perked up, listening to all the conversations in high spirits. If it weren't for Chu Wanning's closed eyes, frown, and the words "extremely noisy" essentially spelled out on his forehead, Mo Ran might have wanted to go join the villagers.

They walked together and finally left the main city, arriving at the outskirts.

Shi Mei suddenly gasped and pointed to the distance: "Shizun, look over there."

In front of the ruined Master of Ceremonies Ghost's earthen temple, there was a large group of peasants in brown clothes and shorts. They were busy moving the bricks and stones. It seemed that they were planning to repair the damaged earthen temple and remould the golden body of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost.

Shi Mei said anxiously: "Shizun, the old Master of Ceremonies Ghost is gone but they've made a new one. Will this be cultivated into an immortal body again and do evil?"

Chu Wanning: "I don't know."

"Should we go and persuade them not to?"

Chu Wanning: "The custom of ghost marriages in Caidie Town has been around for several generations. How would you or I be able to persuade them in just a few words? Let's go."

As he spoke, dust flew up from the horse's hoof and he walked away.

It was already dusk when they returned to Life-Death Peak.

Chu Wanning said to the two disciples in front of the mountain gate: "You go to Danxin Hall and explain what happened. I'll go to the Court of Discipline."

Mo Ran looked puzzled: "Why would you go to the Court of Discipline?"

Shi Mei, on the other hand, looked worried: ". . ."

Chu Wanning nonchalantly said: "To receive my punishment."

Although it's said that an emperor commits the same crime as the common people, what emperor would actually have to go to jail for killing someone? The same goes for the cultivation world.

The elders who break the sect rules are as equally guilty as the disciples - in most sects, it's just empty talk.

In fact, if an elder breaks a rule, it was good enough just to write an apology letter. What fool would actually go to be punished with a willow vine or dozens of sticks?

So, after listening to Chu Wanning's explanation, Elder Jielu's complexion turned green.

"No, Elder Yuheng, did you really. . . did you really beat your client?"

Chu Wanning was indifferent: "Yes."

"You're so. . ."

Chu Wanning raised his stare and gave him a sullen look. Elder Jielu shut up.

"According to the law, for breaking this rule, the punishment is two hundred cane strikes, kneeling in Wushan Temple for seven days, and being forbidden from leaving the grounds for three months." Chu Wanning said. "I have no defence, and I voluntarily accept the punishment."

Elder Jielu: ". . ."

He looked around and hooked his fingers, and the door to the Court of Discipline closed with a clang. The surroundings fell silent, and it was only the two of them that stood opposite each other.

Chu Wanning: "What's the meaning of this?"

"Well, Elder Yuheng, it’s not that you don't understand the rules and their consequences, it's just that it shouldn't be something that you should be overly concerned with. This matter is finished. Let's forget it. If I beat you, won't the Lord be angry with me when he finds out?"

Chu Wanning didn't bother to talk such nonsense with him and simply said: "I hold people accountable according to the law, and I should also be held accountable myself according to the law."

Kneeling down in front of the hall, facing the plaque of sect rules, he said:

"Punish me."

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei novel #danmei #chu wanning #mo ran #ranwan

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basilly · 3 years

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red envelopes and pho || cc!wilbur x viet!reader

request: Could I request a irl!wilbur x viet!reader where they're introducing Wilbur to the types of foods and cuisines?

note: this made my viet heart so happy- but a lot of accents are missing please don’t flame me

áo dài: traditional Vietnamese garment

phõ: viet noodle dish

chúc mừng năm mới: happy new year

pronouns/gender: they/them and gn!

not edited

smoothing out the gorgeous fabric of your áo dài, you glance in the mirror to adjust the collar. from the bedroom, wilbur calls out your name for help.

“y/nnnn i need help.”

you walked through the doorway, immediately noticing wilbur’s disheveled hair and unclasped collar of his own royal blue áo dài. laughing quietly, you reach up to gently clasp the front of the traditional outfit, careful to not pinch his skin.

wilbur’s face only adorned a soft grin, he loved seeing and learning about new cultures, especially your own. today he would join your family for the first time on lunar new year, complete with áo dái's and a get together.

as you try and smooth down his hair, he wraps his arms around you waist.

“thank you love, when are we supposed to be there again?” “eleven a.m.- we should leave soon.”

---

“mẹ, we’re here!”

wilbur trailed after you awkwardly, unsure what to do.

“chúc mừng năm mới, y/n come in- oh wilbur! y/n, he looks so handsome in his áo dài, i love the color.” “ah thank you, i’m very excited to be here.” “come in, we are about to eat!”

---

leaning down, wilbur talks lowly in a whisper. your mom looked at over, quickly waving the two of you down.

“come! eat, eat! there’s a lot of food!”

“wait what is this, how do i eat it?”

holding back your laugh, you pull a variety of plates near you.

“here, you put basil, bean sprouts, and if you want, these two sauces in it. siracha, you probably know is a bit spicy, and hoisin if a sweet- plum almost? i think you've seen this before though, it's phõ.”

you quickly demonstrate with your own bowl before turning to watch wilbur replicate. cautiously, he followed your steps, looking at you for approval like a small child. his eyes were full of wonder and excitement, he had always wanted to try this.

cute.

the two of you began to eat, chatting with your relatives. wilbur watched you mostly to make sure he was acting correctly but enjoyed himself.

“so wilbur, what’d you think?” “i really liked it, the broth was rich and the bean sprouts were crunchy, it was a fun texture.”

you couldn’t help but beam, glad he was enjoying it.

---

the family gathering ensued, chatter filling the air while kids playing on the wii in the living room and the adults sat in the dining room playing card games. suddenly, the elders begun to whisper amongst themselves before motioning to your parents. rising from their seat, they call everyone over.

“okay kids! come over, it’s time for red envelopes!”

at the mention of red envelopes, the kids quickly scrambled to stand in front of the seated elders, obviously very excited. you pat wilbur’s hand, getting up to stand behind the kids. his expression was curious, so you explained it to him slowly.

“they’re giving out red envelopes with money in them, the elders and married couples give it out to the younger kids and ones who aren’t married. so you hold out your hands like this and say ‘chúc mừng năm mới'."

wilbur repeated the phrase in his head, wanting to not mess up at all.

chúc mừng năm mới

once all the kids received theirs and ran off, you let wilbur go.

“go on wilbur-” “ah you are y/n’s boyfriend right?” “y-yea.” “what do you say?”

wilbur began pronunciate slowly, his preparation coming into action.

“chúc mừng năm mới”

at this, all the elders cheered, handing him the envelopes and giving him affectionate pats on the arm.

the moment was sweet, you loved seeing their approval. the little grin on his face as well made it 10x better. safe to say wilbur had a good first experience and was bound to come to more family gatherings.

taglist:

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#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #dream smp x reader #dsmp x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #dream smp fanfiction #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fluff #mcyt fic #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot fanfiction #dsmp fanfic #basilly

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sharkbait77 · 3 years

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The Sun Sets With You

Chapter One: The Season Begins

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Despondency, depressive undertones, death of a parent, grief, unsolicited advances, age old sexism, strained parent relationship, nosy neighbors, food, lmk if I missed any pls!

W/C: 3.2k

A/N: And here we go! The first chapter! Welcome & thank you for tuning in, it means the world, truly! As I mentioned before, this story may not be the best for some, so please heed the warnings & proceed with caution. The sadness will not consistently be in each chapter, that much I promise, but we have to get through it right away so we can understand our dear Reader’s mindset as of right now. NO EZRA YET, SORRY! And like I said before, this is probably not totally historically accurate, so take everything with a grain of salt pleeease. Other than that, enjoy!

Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @barbossa2319 @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @ezrasbirdie @danniburgh @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @djarinsbeskar @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @meesterblack @amandalovess @hunterofartem1s @pedro4ever @mishasminion360

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Chapter Two

~APRIL FIFTEENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Your eyes flutter open on instinct as the sun rises against the pale blue of the sky, its ochre rays peering from behind the grassy hills and across the wheat fields while waking the birds. They start their day with a song, shaking their feathers and stretching their wings as they merrily fly through the air in search of their morning meal. The hens that found solace in their coops from the stark chill of night chatter amongst themselves as they roam around their pen and the lone rooster releases its shrill call, a signal for the day to begin. Beat you again, you think.

The sun rises a little higher now, the bright of day in full effect as it fills your room with its intense luminosity. You lie in bed a moment longer, watching the dust mites float through the air and dance in front of your nose with each exhale of breath you release. Signs of life all around you, from the dew drops that formed on your window in the early morning to the muscles within your very skin twitching as you climb out of bed. Every little thing teasing and taunting you of significance, of meaning just on the horizon, yet so far out of your reach.

This is your life. Each and every morning, day, and night is as repetitive as the last. Wake up before the rooster crows and stare into the minute cracks rippling through the ceiling, envious of the pollen that manages to escape through and longing for you to shrink microscopic enough to hide away as well. Fill your basin with cold water you had gathered the night before to wash yourself quickly before your father wakes. Clothe yourself in your underdress, long sleeved, blue work dress layered on top with the sleeves rolled up, an apron cinched at your waist, and dirty and worn, black boots laced up tight enough to prevent you from minding the ache they feel as the day progresses.

You look at your reflection in the hazy mirror as you braid your hair; the drabness of the glass only accentuates exactly how you perceive yourself. The girl staring back at you was but a shell of the one you knew before. Before, when you still had ambitions that would have led you far from this town. To a place you could live anew. Now, just an empty being as one day fades into the next. Eyes that no longer gleam, hair that no longer shines, skin that no longer glows.

You had given up long ago of any hope and dream of something more, surrendering to the bleakness and repetitiveness of this life when your mother passed. A promise on her death bed to help care for your father any way he needs. And this is what he needs. You, here on the farm, helping tend to the chickens and the cows and the small shop he owned in town. The one your mother ran that was unceremoniously thrust onto your lap. The organ within your chest beats solely to pump the blood through your veins and keep you breathing, if only for the promise you made to your mother.

You fasten the gold chain around your neck, a locket with a faded photograph of your mother hidden within hanging to your breast. You tuck it into your blouse to keep her close to your heart and head down the ladder, stepping lightly as to not awaken Pa any earlier than necessary. Your Pa, an old man now with hair white as snow, only having turned the shade since Ma left.

Wrinkles crease deeper into his skin and the bags under his eyes droop slightly to his cheeks now on his once chiseled face. His strength has dwindled within the last year, and with no other siblings to share the burden of the farm, you knew you could not leave your Pa to deal with it by himself. So your own dreams and goals were swiftly thrown into the dirt to be rained on and turned to mush, impossible to be picked up again.

As you finish grounding the coffee beans and throw them into the pot of already boiling water resting on the range, Pa begins to stir and soon after wakes up, the aroma of caffeine acting as his own signal to wake. Leaving the house to give your father privacy to dress, you head to the hen coop to gather a few eggs for breakfast.

You take a deep breath of the crisp morning air, the smell of apple trees at the front of the house, then the smell of grass with fresh dew, to the smell of hay and chicken feed as you get closer to the pen they are corralled in. As you head back into the house, Pa is already seated at the small, round table with his tin of coffee.

“Good morning, Pa,” you greet softly.

“Good morning daughter. Thank you for the coffee.”

“Grace to our health, Pa,” you say, as you always do when he gives you his thanks.

Financially, you and Pa were well off enough; you still couldn’t afford luxuries like sugar, but you were able to live comfortably with only the necessities and the occasional new pair of boots. You were grateful to have the farm and the shop, both reliable sources of income for your small family, and you were blessed that Pa was still able to work the fields, but you know as time passes and his joints weaken, you would then need to take over the labor. There was truly no path for you to leave this life.

The older women around town had begun to whisper about you, not necessarily trying to keep their gossip from reaching your ears. They were just as bad as the hens that cluck around their pen all day. A never ending chatter of you being stuck in the house or the farm or the shop, working as an old maid for the rest of your life.

You’re still fairly young, just over two decades of life in you; sure, the girls you once played in the streams with as children were all married women now and on their third, fourth, fifth child, but you didn’t feel the desire to find a husband just to bend to the simple mold of life this society has cast. If you were to still have any control of your life, it would, at the least, be that.

You crack the eggs into the beaten and tired pan over the range, letting them cook to completion before removing and plating them, along with a roll of bread and the butter you had just churned the day prior. You walk over to Pa and place his portion down before working on your own. Pa sends up a quick prayer and starts to eat. His prayers turned to letters to Ma, but he never failed to speak them before every meal or before bed, sometimes even when a sudden abundance of eggs were laid or vegetables had sprouted during the night.

“The season is nigh for corn and potatoes,” Pa mumbles and you feel your heart sink to your feet.

You had forgotten about the season, when Ma and Pa would work the fields together endlessly, sweating through their work attire to be washed every evening. You still feel the creak in your elbows to this day. It is the busiest season, bringing in the most coinage for the year, but now that it was only you two, you worry about juggling between the shop and the farm.

“Pa, how will we manage?” You voice your concern. Pa takes a deep breath.

“You will hang a notice in the shop when you go today,” he says matter of factly. “Ask Mr. Williams if you are able to hang one on his window at the post as well.”

“And what shall it say?”

“‘Seasonal laborer wanted – will provide lodging with pay’.”

“Where will he stay?” You inquire.

“The barn; we will provide him blankets and he will be free to use our wash basins when needed and we will offer him meals.”

“It will be a lot of money expended, Pa; will we be all right?” You ask as you sit at the table with your plate and coffee tin.

“We will make do, daughter,” he says, the finality in his voice signaling for this conversation to cease. “We will not be able to pay handsomely or feed him much, but we require the extra hand if we are to pass the season.”

“Yes, Pa.”

You lower your head and eat your eggs in silence. You don’t pray anymore, not necessarily feeling the need since your Ma was taken, as well as your aspirations. Pa finishes his coffee, leaving the dishes in the wash basin and grabbing his hat, walking outside into the fields to begin preparations for the season. You sigh; the tears that have long hidden in your ducts refuse to spill out to bless you with relief.

The last time you properly cried was for Ma; every day you feel them there, the pressure building in the corners of your eyes, but nothing ever falls. A mind trick, you suppose, to force you to focus on the more important things. You don’t have the time to spare to release them; your mind and body are now slaves to the farm and the shop.

After your breakfast, you walk to the wash basin with your dishes, hand pumping the water from the pipe just off the side and using the homemade lye soap you learned to make from your mother. Once the dishes are washed, dried, and put away, you walk over to the black safe in the corner of the room, turning the dial to its correct numbers and pulling out the metal lockbox from the inside.

It carried within it the sales ledger for the shop and the velvet bag for the coins. Pa empties the bag every day as he looks over the ledger, placing the coins into another metal box that only he has the key to. He gives you coin anytime you ask, as long as it is needed for the shop or food for the house and, occasionally, on special days.

You pick it up and take it with you to the front door, pulling your bonnet and fabric bag from the hook they hung on. You stick the lockbox inside your bag, as well as the key assigned to it, and head outside. Pa is already far into the fields, hacking away at the dirt and smoothing it out for the new growth. You don’t bother saying goodbye; he knows where you’ll be. Where you’ll always be.

Living alone with Pa became quite challenging, you were disheartened to learn. You’ve always had a loving bond with him since you were a child; maybe he expected the same from you as he did from Ma, but he still managed to make his lessons on the farm enjoyable, doting upon you as any loving father would. Now? The anguish you both have felt since losing the feathery soft and caring love of your mother strained the relationship between you two.

What was once a thick belt of leather that connected you now pulled further and further apart until it became as frail as rubber, threatening to snap at a moment’s notice. You love your Pa; of course you do, and you know he loves you too. If only you could grieve together.

Upon entering the town, the people are going about their normal routines. The baker stacking the fresh loaves of bread in his window, the shoe shiners along the streets working tediously on men’s boots, the hens clucking – the older women gossiping away passionately about whomever they desire. As long as it isn’t you today.

You reach the shop, key in hand as you unlock the brass keyhole and turn the knob, the small bell dinging above you as you enter. You flip the sign in the window from the side that reads ‘Closed’ to the side that reads ‘Open’ and you pull back the shut curtains, allowing the light of day to flow into the small room.

Heading back to behind the counter, you remove the lockbox from your bag and set it on the shelf underneath in its usual resting place. You barely have a moment to remove your bonnet when the bell dings and you look up to greet the person who has walked in. Wonderful.

“Hello, my sweet,” the man husks and you find it difficult to choke back the bile rising in your throat.

“Hello Silas,” you say flatly. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“Darlin’, you know exactly how you may be of service to me.”

Silas Taylor, a boorish man of thirty-eight years, has desperately been attempting to attract your affection for the past two years. He had the decency to respect you and Pa after your mother passed, halting his advances for all of one week. Considering his age, he did not show any signs of maturing, both in his looks and his brain. One might even label him handsome, were he not such a crude and overbearing personality.

Ma and Pa had bid you to consider his proposal, but in time came to understand he was not the best man you could have as a husband. Pa despises Silas, has even told him so to his face, yet it did not cause Silas to stray from pursuing you. Disrespectful, despicable, a generally awful person, Silas is.

Why he had you locked on to his sights, you weren’t sure. You never gave him the opportunity to court; staying cordial as to not make an outright enemy of him, yes, but never once have you made it apparent you enjoyed his attention. Nevertheless, he continued.

“Silas, please. I must ask you to leave my shop if you are not interested in a purchase,” you implore, hoping he will understand your position and take his leave.

“But, little one, I am very interested in a purchase. What must I do to make you my wife?” He grins, as charming as the manure out in the fields. In a flash, your vision goes red as you replay his statement in your mind.

“I am not for sale, Silas. That is the most offensive remark you have said to me yet,” you declare harshly, the acidic bile in your stomach turning into a burning rage.

“There must be something that can be done, my sweet. You name it; the most lavish jewels and dresses your pretty, little mind can dream of,” he presses on with a smile only found on masks to scare the children with.

‘Pretty’ and ‘little’, amongst his unwelcome endearments, are the words to send your mind into a downward spiral to declarations that you’d rather not say unless you were alone, lest he take offense and decide to wreak havoc on you and Pa. You put your foot down and grab his arm roughly, pulling him with you to the front door. He only laughs at the scene unfolding, rather pleased with himself that he’s ruffled your feathers so.

“Silas, I am no longer asking. Please leave,” you say as plainly as you can, doing your best to keep the tremble of anger out of your voice.

“Fine, fine,” he chuckles satirically. “Until our next meeting, my love.”

He pulls your hand to his lips, his strength surpassing yours and his thick, wiry mustache rubs harshly against the tender skin of your hand. You furl your lip and flare your nostrils, unable to contain the look of disgust on your face as he glares at you perversely with his black eyes. You tug your hand away and the bristly hair under his villainous nose scrapes you with the motion.

You stand with your jaw clenched and hands balled up in tight fists at your sides, your fingernails digging into the skin of your palm as you watch him walk away, leaving puffs of dirt trailing behind with each cocksure step he takes. If you were to only be allowed one person to despise in your lifetime, it would be Silas Taylor.

“Dear, are you well?”

A gentle, aged voice calls out to you from behind. You whip around quickly, your skirts twirling as you face the elderly woman that has hailed you.

“Mrs. Williams,” you greet, willing your fury from the unpleasant interaction to rest for the time being.

“Was that Silas Taylor you were speaking with?” She asks.

“Yes,” you exhale. “Yes, it was.”

“He’s a quite handsome lad, dear. It is known all over town how you have bewitched him. Why do you not accept his proposal?”

Adelaide Williams; the sweetest among the hens, but still a hen nonetheless. You sigh deeply to yourself, deciding not to engage in the conversation with the one woman who treats you with any shred of respect and kindness, even if her ideals still match those with the others in town.

“Mrs. Williams, while I have you in my presence, may I ask a favor?” You appeal.

“Why, of course, my dear!” She smiles, all thoughts of your personal affairs exiting her imagination.

“Do you suppose it would be alright to leave a notice at the post office? We are asking for help on the farm for the season.”

“Yes, dear, it’s quite alright,” she smiles, her wrinkly skin creasing along her cheeks and eyes.

“Thank you; will you wait a moment while I draft it?”

She nods and follows you inside the shop, slow in her old age. You quickly grab a sheet of paper and a fountain pen, inscribing the words your Pa informed you to write in large enough letters.

“I imagine this season will be most difficult without your mother. I am so very sorry, dear,” Mrs. Williams says as you write and your hand quakes slightly at her comment. “How have you and your father been managing?” Cluck, cluck, cluck.

“Not without difficulty, Mrs. Williams, but we manage nonetheless,” you say courteously, not wanting to relay any information that could be the next piece of news to travel through the grapevine. You finish the notice and hand it to her.

“Shall I direct him here or to the farm?” She inquires as she reads the note, perhaps looking for anything contradicting what you already stated would be written.

“The farm, more suitably, so he can speak directly to my father,” you reply. “Many thanks to you and Mr. Williams,” you end with a sweet smile.

“No thanks are required, my dear. Anything to help you and your father. Your mother was a wonderful being. I was proud to have known her.”

Another quake. You nod politely, letting her hold your forearm as you walk to the front door. The bell dings as it opens and you watch her while she walks down the wooden pathway to the post office. Once you’re sure she’s well on her way, you turn back inside and draft another notice for the shop window before you begin arranging the merchandise for the day, taking inventory of goods that are depleting, and checking order forms belonging to families around town for produce off your farm.

A most provincial and forlorn life, indeed, that you will have to bear until the end of your time here on Earth.

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Chapter Two

#ezra x f!reader #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra au #ezra prospect au #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfic #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #prospect #prospect fanfiction #the sun sets with you #tsswy

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slippinmickeys · 3 years

Text

Another Twitter prompt:

1. It was a weird thing to think, but it was odd that they'd put the new chemistry professor in Old Chem. The building -- cramped and dusty with an unreliable heating system -- hadn't actually housed the chemistry department in 35 years. It was now filled mainly with graduate students who either didn't mind that the clanking basement furnace would give up the ghost thrice every February, or just felt lucky to have office space and didn't complain. Dr. Fox Mulder, a tenured and often traveling research professor liked Old Chem, for what it was worth. Its bricks were the same orangey-red of the hoodoos of Bryce Canyon and it sat stalwart and proud on a rise above the river that purled through campus. The offices were small, and they lent everything in them -- from papers written in '82 to the newest state-of-the-art computers -- an aged patina that made you want to smoke a pipe and contemplate philosophy.

In any event, he never seemed to run into the new chemistry professor, even though his office was right next door.

2. One of the kids that rode on the same school bus route on the Vineyard had been a guy named Dana Dupree. He was five years older and a baseball star, and while Mulder hadn’t thought the kid was all that bright, he still worshipped him anyway, until the day Dupree graduated and Mulder never thought about him again.

He supposed that was why he thought the new professor was a man until she showed up at his door with a sheepish looking undergraduate he vaguely recognized from his Tuesday/Thursday lecture.

"I believe this may belong to you," said a caramel-soft voice from his doorway.

He looked up to see a short statured titch of a woman looking at him expectantly. Next to her was said undergraduate, who was hitching his backpack on his shoulder uncomfortably and looking anywhere but Mulder's face.

"Does it?" Mulder asked without standing.

"These are office hours, right?" the kid said, looking up through a thick hatch of shaggy hair.

Mulder looked at his watch. "Indeed they are," he said, and motioned for the boy to sit in one of the chairs opposite his desk -- the only one not covered in sheaves of paper and books. The kid slid into it and the woman in the doorway raised a hand and started to retreat into the hallway when Mulder said:

"And who do I have to thank for the saving of wayward students?"

The woman gave him a small, closed mouth smile that nevertheless reached all the way to her eyes.

"Dr. Dana Scully," she said, nodding at him and taking another step back. "Your new neighbor." With that she was gone.

3. He didn't see her again for almost a month. He was heading down the narrow back stairway that led from Old Chem's parking lot to the third floor hall of offices when he heard a forceful expletive followed by the sound of several light things hitting the floor. When he rounded the next landing, Dr. Scully was carrying an overfilled and close-to-disintegrating cardboard box and looking helplessly down at a wash of manila folders and dot-matrix printouts that were scattered across the floor and accordioning down three steps.

She was bending to put the box down when Mulder came trotting down the last few steps.

"Let me get that," he said, bending down to pick up the sheety detritus which he tapped into a neat stack.

"Thanks," she said, sounding reluctant to accept the help.

When he stood holding the papers out a little awkwardly, she gave him a grudging smile and he tucked the stack carefully into the box she now had balanced on her hip.

"Would you like help carrying all this up?" he asked, "I can get the box?"

"I can manage," she said, and Mulder thought she probably could -- she only had one more flight to go.

"Then at least let me get the doors," he said, bounding back up from the way he came, and seeing her safely to her office.

She gave him a small sideways glance as she unlocked the old Schlage, and when she fumbled with the keys, he reached out and wordlessly took the box from her hands so she could open the door. She gave a last hard shove with her shoulder and she was in, and he entered and put the box gingerly on her desk.

"Wow," he said, taking a look around the room. It was spotless and bright, airy in an effortless sort of way that was near impossible to find in the stuffy confines of Old Chem. "If Professor Abernathy saw this place, I think he'd want to move back in."

She smiled at him and he noticed for the first time that her eyes were a bright liquidly aqua, as cobalt as the Caribbean. His heart beat once, hard, then returned to its normal cadence.

"Then where would I go?" she asked, and he thought he detected maybe a hint of flirt.

"Next door," he offered, "it would be tight and wouldn't be good for much beyond a good game of Battleship, but wayward undergrads wouldn't get lost."

She laughed, a sheath of hair falling into her face, her locks the same color as the sandstone in Utah -- the same color as the bricks of Old Chem.

He felt something in his chest he hadn’t felt in a long time.

4. He normally didn't stay this late, but his TA was out sick and he needed to get the grades turned in by noon the next day.

The moonlight coming through the single window in his office was pale and diaphanous, and it shone in a small rectangle on the grungy berber of his floor, the small desktop lamp illuminating only the papers in front of him.

There was a sharp knock on his door.

"It's open!"

It swung in to reveal Dr. Scully, holding a couple cartons of what looked like Chinese food and two paper-wrapped chopsticks packs, her face looking hesitant but hopeful, her hair a muzzy halo backlit by the fluorescents in the hallway.

"Your light is on a lot later than normal," she said, holding up the cartons, from which drifted the tangy waft of Pad Thai. "Thought you might need some sustenance."

His stomach gurgled in response.

“Partay,” he said, gesturing her in.

She smiled and shuffled in, setting a carton in front of him and the chopsticks on top.

“Apologies for the dimness, the overheads were giving me a headache,” he said, reaching behind him for the large pillar candles he kept in his office -- the building was notorious for losing power in the summer months, and he’d learned to be prepared. “Too weird to eat by candlelight?” he asked, fingering a lighter.

She shrugged and plopped down into the free chair across from his desk and folded her feet under herself, somehow looking cozy in the notoriously uncomfortable chair. He lit the candles and placed one on the desktop between them, unwrapping the chopsticks and rubbing the handles together. He considered her for a moment and she seemed to do the same.

“Do you always order for two?” he finally asked, opening the top of his container and letting the steam puff up gently around his face. He closed his eyes and inhaled dreamily. It smelled wonderful. She opened her own, deftly spearing a bean sprout and delicately nipping it in half. “It makes great leftovers,” she said, then expertly twirled a small bundle of noodles onto her own utensil and took a happy bite. “And I’ve been curious about you,” she finished around a mouthful of food.

“Me?” he asked, surprised. He shoveled in a mouthful with far less finesse and she chuckled at him.

“Yes,” she said, “you. The enigmatic Dr. Mulder. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Normally, he probably would have said something like oh really? and then made a smartass comment about her spying on him, but something held him back. Instead he said, “...what do you want to know?”

She looked at him, chewing thoughtfully. The candlelight gave her a fresh-faced look, her skin dewy and glowing. She had cupid’s bow lips, the color of overripe raspberries. A thought flashed through his head that they would probably taste as good as they looked.

“How long have you been tenured?”

“Five years.”

“Undergrad?”

“Oxford.” She raised an impressed eyebrow.

“Married?”

He choked and covered for it by coughing. She was still looking at him earnestly, expecting an answer.

“Ah,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Almost.”

“Narrowly avoided the institution?” He felt like he was being interviewed by a seasoned criminologist. She was unruffled and laser focused. Normally he would have had sirens going off in his head by now, abort! abort! but he was into it. Really into it.

“Narrowly avoided the spouse .” She grinned and took another bite and he decided to lob one back at her. “Why, you in the market?”

She looked at him levely, chewing no faster or slower than before. When she swallowed, he kept his eyes on the elegant column of her neck, watching her throat work.

“I’m a professor of chemistry, Dr. Mulder,” she said, quirking one eyebrow in a way that charmed him even more. “I’d never rule out adhesion.”

5. It was a tempest. A Goddamn tempest, and it had come rushing off the plains and, propelled by the jet stream, roaring into campus with the force of a freight train. He was halfway to the building that held his evening lecture when the wind picked up, and he was just passing Old Chem when the rain came. A torrential downpour that would have felled even the strongest umbrella. A streak of lighting followed immediately by the crash of thunder and he darted into the Old Chemistry building just to escape it. He was standing in the small foyer looking out the small beaded window panes in the old oak doors -- there were still a few students darting haphazardly into random buildings -- when his phone dinged. He pulled it out of his pocket.

UNIVERSITY EMERGENCY ALERT -- STORM WARNING -- STAY INDOORS -- ALL EVENING CLASSES CANCELLED

Sighing, he turned to head into his office to wait out the storm. He was thinking he had lab results in his briefcase he could probably go over when the power suddenly -- though perhaps not surprisingly -- went out. He drifted up the stairs to his office in the uncomfortable beam of the stairwell’s emergency light box, the bulbs shining brightly in two different directions like some kind of demented wall-eyed robot.

When he got to his door, he saw a small light flitting about the office next to his, then heard a thud and a muffled curse. He knocked lightly.

“Everything all right in there?” he called out.

The door was flung open and a frazzled-looking Dr. Scully stood before him, the too-bright glow of her cell phone flashlight pointing somewhere around his belt buckle.

“Hi,” she said, then rather needlessly added, “the power is out.”

“Welcome to Old Chem,” Mulder said with a trace of sarcasm, just as another flare of lightning highlighted her dressed-down outfit. Unusually, she was wearing jeans, a white tank top that rather nicely showcased the twin pillows of her decolletage and an old chambray shirt, shirtsleeves rolled to her elbows, unbuttoned in the front.

“My phone is about to die and I can’t find my portable charger,” she went on, a bit flustered, “and I also can’t see a god damned thing. If I was near my lab I could probably improvise some kind of glow stick, but I’m… not,” she finished lamely.

“You want some help?” he offered, setting down his briefcase in the hallway. There was an emergency light at the far end, but its light barely reached them. They were mainly highlighted in the red glow of the Exit sign that hung from the ceiling just to their left.

“I was actually on my way out. I give up. I can charge it in my car.”

He’d just noticed that her laptop bag was slung over one shoulder. A crash of deafening thunder shook the building.

“I, uh, wouldn’t go out right now,” he said, holding up the emergency alert on his phone, “it’s biblical out there.” Her shoulders slumped. “Come into my office,” he went on, digging his keys out of his pocket, “I don’t have Pad Thai, but I still have those candles.”

She smiled and he flushed a bit at the memory. It had only been a week and a half ago. She’d been pretty forward, and he’d been about to ask her out when the janitorial crew came rolling down the hallway. They’d quickly emptied the trashcans in the various offices on the floor, but when they kick-started the industrial floor polisher out in the hallway, Mulder had been fairly sure his window had closed.

She passed by him while he held open the door, and was forced to back herself up to the wall so he could squeeze by a moment later to get to the pillar candles and lighter he kept on top of his file cabinet. Their hips grazed ever so slightly as he brushed by her and he caught a heady whiff of her perfume, a spicy, floral scent studded with hints of white musk and bergamot. He had to keep himself from leaning into her to get another sniff.

“You want to have a seat?” he asked, indicating the guest chair.

“Not on your life,” she laughed, “it took three PIlates classes to work out the kink in my back from the last time.”

“Take mine,” he said, and settled himself into the chair across the desk, shifting to try to get comfortable.

After several moments she let out an undignified guffaw and stood.

“Come on,”she said, still chuckling as she rose from his office chair, “let’s go into my office. We’ll be a lot more comfortable.

Slightly chagrined, he grabbed the candles and followed her obediently. She had two nice looking chairs sitting side by side with a small, tasteful side table in between them, and they both settled in.

“Well,” she said, looking at the candles, “this is romantic.”

He chuckled.

“Any idea how long this is supposed to last?” she asked, nodding toward the small window. The sun hadn’t quite set, but the sky was a frightening velvety grey and the branches on the ancient maples outside Old Chem were bending sideways in the thrash.

Mulder pulled up a NOAA app on his phone.

“Radar shows three cells coming through,” he said, pinching the screen to get a bigger picture. “One on top of the other.”

She smirked at the innuendo, but made no move to do or say anything. He tossed the phone on the desktop next to a candle.

“Well,” she said, “any chance you’re up for a game of Battleship?”

XxXxXxXxXxX

She’d actually bought one. He was delighted when, from under her desk, she pulled out a brand new, still-in-the-cellophane, honest-to-god game of Battleship. They were twenty minutes into their second game and she was absolutely handing him his ass.

“How are you so good at this?” he asked her, after he put the last red peg into his submarine.

She studied her board.

“My father was a naval officer,” she said, not looking up, “a Captain when he retired. He was gone a lot. As a kid I would play this game with anyone who would play with me. Even the old lady next door. It made me feel closer to him.”

“Where does he live now?” Mulder asked, then, “C8.”

“Miss,” she said, “He and Mom are in Maryland. B12.”

“Hit. Any siblings?”

“Three.”

“E1?”

“Miss. You?” she asked. “B11.”

“A sister,” he answered, then leaned back and sighed. “You sunk my battleship.

She smiled victoriously. “You giving up?”

“I know when I’ve been bested,” he said.

He looked out the window at the storm as he helped her pack up the game. There was a brief lull in the weather while one cell moved off and another moved in. One of the trees in the diag out her window had been uprooted by the wind and was leaning into one of its compatriots like a soldier limping off the battlefield.

“It’s been nice being stuck here with you,” she said, finally leaning back.

“I’m glad,” Mulder said, nodding to the window, “because we may end up being stuck here all night.”

She put her thumbnail in her mouth and tilted her head. “I can think of worse things.”

“Oh yeah?” he said, swallowing hard.

“Yeah,” she said. “I think you should ask me out.”

He felt himself flush. Again. “If I asked, what would we do?”

“Drinks,” she said, “dancing. Maybe see where the night takes us.”

He nodded at her, considering. He briefly bit the inside of his cheek. “Will you go out with me?” he finally said.

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “When?”

He stood. “Right now,” he said, getting a flash of inspiration, a jagged line of lightning streaking outside the window. “Stay right there.”

The candles sputtered as he swung open her office door. The dim red from the Exit sign gave just illumination for him to go into his own office and pull out the bottom drawer of his desk. When he returned, she was sitting up, intrigued. On her desk he deposited a bottle of Lagavulin and two small rocks glasses.

“You like Scotch?” he asked.

She nodded, smiling. He returned her smile and poured her a finger. He did the same and held it up in salute.

“To our first date,” he said.

“Slainte,” she said, tapping her glass into his own and then taking a slow sip, her eyes never leaving his.

The spirit was as smooth as high C, but burned its way down his esophagus, filling his belly with the warm haze of nerve.

He reached for his phone, which was still sitting on top of her desk, swiping and tapping until the soulful purl of Nina Simone’s Feeling Good began to leak through the tiny speakers. He upped the volume so that the sound of the singer’s velvet voice swelled over the roar of the rain outside, set down his glass and held out his hand to her. She took a large swallow, almost finishing what was in her glass, and set it down next to his, taking his hand. He pulled her to him.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, pressing his hand into the amati curve of her back. There wasn’t much room in the small office, certainly not enough for a good dance, but if they swayed, turning in place like a couple of kids at an eighth grade dance, it would get the job done.

She canted her face up to his, blinking slowly. “Yes,” she said in a voice as low as his had been, and then pressed her head to his chest. He pulled her in even more, pulling their clasped hands in close.

She fit perfectly into the lee of him, and something just felt right about it as she settled in, sighing contentedly. It was like a key sliding into the right lock. Click .

The song was over before either of them were ready for it to be. Mulder didn’t move as the brassy sound of the big band faded into nothingness. He scarcely even breathed. Dr. Scully shifted in his arms, but made no move to step back. After a moment, he worked up the nerve to look down at her and found her looking right back.

“What happens next?” he muttered, tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

“Next?” she said, voice barely a whisper. “We see where the night takes us.”

#it won’t let me post after the jump #im sorry this is so long on your dash #tumblr I swear to fucking god #fanfic #msr #my fic #the x-files #au #fanfiction #prompts

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Din Djaren x force sensitive reader - A Moment Of Bliss

Summary: You’re trying to meditate but your boys have other plans for you.

Warning: child being cute, fluff, SMUT, Din being the best space husband

Side note: wrote this before I learned the child’s name is Grogu, that is all.

Masterlist

You and your small clan of two have been stationed on a beautiful rolling grassland of a planet, ginormous stocky umbrella like trees sprouting from the flat land every couple miles from one another. They’re honestly quite the sight to behold, and something that you’re grateful for considering there’s no sand in sight. Honestly the most blessed thing of all that this wonderous planet has to offer, you can’t say you’re a real fan of the desert by any means.

Although you’re not exactly fond of the real reasoning why you’re here, it just so happened that Mando had gotten himself into some trouble when he captured the last bounty. A trafficking lord who just wasn’t as clever as he thought, earning himself some chains and a go around in a fun little thing called carbonite.

Nonetheless, his minions had tracked you two down after the bounty had been cashed in, slightly damaging the Razor Crest before Mando was able to lose them with some quick witted maneuvering. But you’re certain they’re still hunting you guys somewhere close by in the galaxy.

So for the time being, Din has decided for your band of three to lay low on this beautiful planet until he’s sure that the petty criminals have given up, or until you both get bored enough and decide to finish them off yourselves.

Which is all fine for you, what could be better then a tiny vacation away from shady scavengers and untrustworthy pimps? Nothing really, so to make the most out of your fortunately unfortunate escape/ temporary vacation. You’ve chosen to spend your afternoon helping the child practice his growing powers. Although it appears the little guy is more interested in a shiny purple crystal that he found minding its business on the gravely ground.

Sitting yourself in a criss cross position upon the soft grass, you close your eyes as you prepare to meditate when suddenly the child makes the most adorable babbling sound, with an amused smile you open your eyes to look down at him, “I’ll let that slide.” He gurgles while tilting his head to the side, his big green ears flopping ever so slightly as he possibly considers your comment.

Watching him decide to sit down and instead play with the purple crystal, earns a little smirk upon your face as you shut your eyes once again. This time he doesn’t do anything to break your concentration, so taking the blessed opportunity you’re finally able to zone in on the force. Laying your arms onto your folded legs you open your palms, feeling the world around you, sensing the energy flowing in as you begin to rise from the ground.

The child watches in silent awe as small fist sized rocks begin to float and flow in circles around you, your contact with the grass no more. For a couple minutes you’re able to sustain your deep meditation, then a tiny little coo is heard from below as it shuffles in the dirt. You almost lose focus at the intruding noise, but your zoned out enough to come back to the welcoming bleary void of the force.

Another couple minutes go by before an adorable noticeably louder coo pricks at your ears, letting out a huff, you remain in the air, the pebbles and rocks around you keeping themselves suspended just the same. You focus even harder, letting yourself feel weightless and in control as you levitate above the grass, the child deciding to coo and babble once more.

“Shut up you’re gonna break my concentration,” You whisper softly as you carefully continue to levitate mere inches off of the ground. Just then the child suddenly lets out a loud messy sneeze, your face falling in irritation, “Aaaand it’s gone.” You deadpan before falling on your butt with a hmph, the little guy giggling in amusement. You fake glare at him before falling back into the soft grass as you look up to the blue sea of sky when suddenly a dark shinning shadow towers above you.

“How’s the meditation going?” Wonders Din as he joins your little party from where he once was, tending to the ship that is.

Sighing, you pull yourself up from the grass and into a proper seated position as you turn your attention to Din, “Not terribly.” You reply with a love struck grin as you lightly pat the grassy spot next to you, “Sit with me?” He looks at the area before bringing himself down to your level.

“Couldn’t hurt to relax for a minute.” Inquires Din as you roll your eyes.

“We’re being hunted Din, I think this little get away vacation of ours calls for a bit more then just a minute of relaxation. Don’t you agree?” He turns his helmet to you, the black T of his armored face showing you back your own distorted reflection.

“Gives me time to work on the ship.”

Nudging his arm that’s mere inches from your own you look at him with a smile, “Okay so that’s how it’s gonna be, you’re just glad to be working on the ship?” You muse with a fake scoff while shaking your head at him, “I should have known.”

“What? No that’s not...that’s not what I meant Y/N.” He rushes worriedly as you scoot yourself closer to him.

Softly chuckling at his quick reaction, you lean into his side as you casually lace his gloved hand with your own, “I know what you meant. But just cause I’m me, I’d rather have you in my arms then fiddling with that hunk of metal.” You explain before setting your chin against his beskar covered shoulder. You can’t see it, but he’s smiling underneath that helmet of his, looking deeply into your loving gaze.

“Likewise.”

Snaking your arms around the one closest to you, he ever so slightly leans into your touch, “Please take off your helmet so I can see those enticing dark eyes of yours. Please?” You urge with a light squeeze of his arm, “I can’t exactly kiss you like this...no ones around to see anything....and anyways we’re married so I automatically get a free pass.”

He gently squeezes your hand before reaching his arms up to his head, you hear a soft click and a whoosh of air as he pulls off his helmet. A blissful smile breaks out onto your beaming face as his fluffy brown locks appear before you, styled every which way as they embrace their new freedom.

He sets his shiny silver helmet to the side before pulling off his gloves as his dark irises find your face, you’re unabashedly biting your lip while you take in every single feature of his handsome face, “It’s a good thing you wear that helmet of yours,” You lean in close, “cause all the ladies would be fighting each other for a chance to get with you. There’s no doubt in my mind.” You muse as the most adorable of smiles graces his stunning features while he leans his head against yours, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I have a great suspicion that you’d fight them before they even had a chance to breath in my direction.” Retorts Din as his hands gently grasp your own.

“What? No way.....okay....maybe yes.” He smiles brightly before pulling back, only to let go of your hands as he engulfs you into a giant hug. You quickly squeeze back as you push him into the grass, laughing as the both of you fall onto the soft earth.

Your eyes find his shining dark ones as you lean in close, “We should stay here, disappear from the rest of the galaxy and go M.I.A forever.” He kisses you in reply, his lips are soft and inviting as he holds you impossibly close, the scruff of his day old unkept facial hair scratching your cheek.

He slowly pulls away, earning a pout from you once he’s able to see your face again, “That does sound appealing, but I know you’d get bored with the calmness. You like adventure too much to stay in one spot for very long.” He says with a knowing look as he leans in to plant soft kisses over your cheeks, “I know you Y/N.”

Rolling your eyes you lean down to kiss his nose, “That you do, Din. Sometimes annoyingly so.” You reply before breaking out into an abrupt laugh as you watch him study your face lovingly.

Suddenly you feel a little nudge by your boot, shifting your gaze away from Din you look over to your feet where the little womp rat is. He’s smiling adorably as he babbles some more, stretching his little arms out for one of you to take, making a cute grabby motion with his hands.

Heeding to his silent yearning you sit up to gently pick up the beaming child, “Oh and how could I forget you, my little green bean....you can have all the cuddles too.” He squeals in delight as you hold him close in your lap, Din scoots over so his head is by your thighs as he gently pets his little green son on his wrinkly head.

Running your fingers through Din’s helmet hair you make a funny face at the child causing him to laugh, “I guess staying here for another week couldn’t hurt. I’ve got my two favorite people in the whole galaxy....no need to rush things.” Mutters Din as he looks to you with the biggest heart eyes while you stick your tongue out at the child.

“I’d like that very much, our little green boy....you and me, alone, a ship all to ourselves...no one to bother us.” You add, a suggestive tone laced throughout your sly voice, Din’s eyebrows raise in interest at your intriguing words, much to your amusement.

“And I have time to work on my ship.” Replies Din, side eyeing you to see your reaction to his lackluster comment.

Shaking your head you lightly tug at his tangled hair while he laughs, “You little shit. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you...you fucker.” A giggle escapes from your lips as you try and keep a serious face, Din attempting to do the same, though you’re both about to crack.

The baby starts to babble, as he wiggles his little body from side to side in an attempt at gaining back the both of your wandering attentions. Not being able to handle the sheer silliness in the atmosphere you let out a loud burst of laughter, Din following suite.

You watch as the sides of his eyes crinkle in joy, his belly rippling with each new inhalation and exhalation of air, “Din, would you like to see what we’ve been practicing on?” You ask as he finally calms down again.

“You’ve been practicing with him?” He asks with a smile, “I’d love to.”

Turning to the child in your lap you grab his sides before gently setting him onto the ground, “Okay little guy, remember you’re training....what we we’re doing yesterday. First we stick our hand out....and then we focus really hard on wanting to lift up the rocks. Okay.” The child coos in excitement as he lifts his clawed hand out to mirror your own, “Now close your eyes and feel...feel the power around you, the wind, the earth...call to it, let it flow.”

He suddenly lets out a little tut of determination as he does his best to focus, Din watches silently in anticipation for what may happen next. A beaming smile breaks out onto your face as a couple tiny pebbles begin floating off of the grass, the child lets out an excited babble as he celebrates his achievement, “You’re doing fantastic my little love, I’m so proud of you.” He coos even more as you gush in amazement, the pebbles falling to the grass as he gets distracted by your words of encouragement.

“But can Y/N lift some little stones?” Jokes Din as he gently nudges your arm, you raise an eyebrow to him before using the force to lift him a couple inches off of the grass. His eyes go wide for a second, clearly not expecting you to mess with him before you drop him onto the soft grass once again.

He lands with a dramatic huff, you look to him and your heart skips a beat as he eyes you up like a wolf to his prey, you swallow just as he suddenly tackles you into the soft green grass. You fall back with a yelp as your Mandalorian pins you to the ground, his beaming face so close to your own as he stares into your eyes with his dark ones.

“You think you’re real funny, hmm Y/N?” His voice is low and husky, his breath fanning your smirking face as he attempts to take the upper hand, “Cause that kinda hurt my arm.”

You simply roll your eyes, “I’ve seen you get swallowed by a Krayt dragon, you reckless man. Tough it out my love, you don’t want to make a bad impression on the little guy now do yo...” His soft lips are suddenly on yours as he shuts you up with his soft plush lips. The child waddles over towards the Razor Crest, uninterested with training and with whatever wrestling game you and Din are becoming entangled in.

You smile into the kiss as Din rests his weight in between your opened thighs and stomach, he rests his forearm upon the grass as his other hand caresses the side of your face. You bask in his body as your hands feel through his soft wavy locks, he moans into your mouth at the pleasant sensation, earning an amused chuckle from you.

Your opened mouth giving him enough space to stick his tongue into it as he teases you, you answer back just the same, your tongues dancing in the dark as he consumes you. He feels rather nice, you can’t help but to begin feeling a bit heated in your nether regions from the close proximity in this compromising position he has you in. Your body erupts with electricity as he starts to grind into you, the slow small friction against your clothed womanhood sending you into another realm of pleasure, and he’s not even inside you yet.

“Right in the grass?” You mumble against his lips as he bucks against your hips, the sensation driving you insane.

Knowing exactly how it’s making you squirm, he feels rather proud of himself, “Ships too far.” Mutters Din between kisses as he reaches down to unclasp his belt.

Your lips stay locked, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth as Din tugs down your own pants. He sits up and quickly makes haste with discarding his armored torso, flinging off top clothing and undershirt as you lift up your arms for him to pull off yours. The fabric falling to the grass as the both of you take in each other’s nearly naked bodies, your thin undergarments the only pieces keeping you away from total bliss.

He rests himself upon his bent knees while dark pleading irises stare into your own, he’s asking silent permission to disrobe you of all clothing. A smile breaks out upon your flushed face, nodding in a silent yes, his eyes flash with excitement and lust as he reaches over to tug at the edges of the tight fabric, he gently pulls off your bra. Your breasts bounce once they’re free from their constraints, Din’s brows raising in excited surprise before leaning down to kiss each one before he captures your lips with his once more.

Din you have no idea what you do to me.

Deciding you’d quite like it if both of you were naked, you pull away, Din’s face following yours as he pouts. In reply to his protests you fall back into the grass, “My undies aren’t gonna take themselves off.” You muse with a lustful gaze upon your man, god you already feel so wet, Din’s most obviously hard and you’re so ready for him.

His cheeks are flushed as he gently grasps the hem of your underwear on either side of your hips, you lift your bum up when he slides them down your legs, abandoning them in the grassy field. Your heart soars when he leans down to plant a kiss on the inside of your bare thigh, then another and another as he trails up to your knee. He pulls away to look at you once again, his face a mask of pure love and adoration as he shimmies out of his bulging boxers.

Biting your lip, you lean up to meet his lips, he kisses you deeply as he rests his calloused hands into each one of your knees, ever so carefully he parts them. Your nerves sending a wave of heat into your core for the anticipation of what’s to come, both literally and figuratively. If not for the current events you’d be laughing, your wandering thoughts quickly dissipating away once he pushes you back so that you’re laying in the soft earth as he locks eyes with you.

Giving you the most beautiful of smiles he kisses your abdomen, then below your bellybutton, up to your stomach, and in between your breasts. He’s hovering annoyingly close to you. You arch into him, the skin of his torso meeting your exposed womanhood, a moan escapes him from the wet contact against his stomach. You let out a breathy laugh as he squeezes and kneads your left breast, his mouth consuming the other one, his tongue working wonders as he sucks and licks at your perked nibbles.

Your hands tangle in his wavy dark hair as he continues his pleasurable assault in your breasts, his fingers may cause a little discomfort as he squeezes but you’re enjoying it too much to give a shit. His hot wet tongue dances in circles around your skin, he lets go of your breast to then lick up your turned neck. Doing everything in your power to keep it all inside, you bite your lip in an attempt at suppressing a moan, your voice breaking free once his hardened member rubs past your entrance without warning.

“There’s that pretty voice of yours.” Mutters Din before capturing his lips with yours, his hands held firmly against the ground as he holds himself up inches from you.

How annoying you can be, Din. Just get closer you idiot.

You feel so warm and fuzzy, his body mere inches from your wanting skin, your legs already open and ready as his length stays firm only centimeters away from your lower abdomen. Tugging at his hair, he parts from your lips as a confused expression crosses his features, you simply chuckle, “Stop making me wait my love, I’m ready for you.” His eyes closing in bliss as you purr sweetly into his ear, “I need you in me, now.”

Heeding to your straightforward command, he reaches a hand down as he guides his hardened cock to your awaiting entrance. He rubs it against your clit in a teasing manner before he slowly pushes into you, your hands flying to his muscular back as your walls adjust to his length. With a soft moan from his sweet lips, he fills you entirely, for a couple seconds does he pause. Letting himself enjoy the sensation of his cock inside you as he presses butterfly kisses all over your face.

Yes, fucking finally.

Not being able to stand it anymore, you buck your hips into him, this giving Din the cue to start working his magic. He completely pulls out of you before slamming himself into your slickness once again, a gasp leaving your lips as he does it again and again and again. Until he decides to keep himself flush against you, his new close contact vigorous thrusts sending more waves of euphoria coursing throughout your entire vessel. All that’s heard in the breeze is the sounds of your moaning and the slabs of skin on skin as Din pumps relentlessly into you.

You’re honestly rather glad that those bastard scavengers ran you into hiding on this planet, it had been a while since you and Din had had any real intimate time together and this was the perfect opportunity. Humming in pleasure, you kiss his scruffy cheek as his head falls into the crook of your neck, “Din I fucking love you so much, you have no idea.” More deep strokes are thrust into you as he kisses the side of your head.

“Y/N ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.....” His all he manages to mutter as another satisfied moan escapes him. You chuckle at how absolutely adorable and hot he’s acting right now, another thrust into you emitting a moan from your lips. He feels so good with how he’s treating you in this special moment, your two bodies colliding like stars in the sky.

You suck in a breath as a warmness builds in the pit of your stomach, you can feel your orgasm slowly rising with each and every pump into you. Din hums as he pushes you into the grass even more now, you can tell from how much more rigorous his thrusts are becoming that he’s on the edge of paradise.

And soon after he grunts, does he spill into you, the new added sensation enough to drive you wild with bliss. Your own high finally reached as your body shakes with euphoria and the last sloppy thrusts that he’s giving you freely.

A whimper escapes from your mouth as he enjoys himself inside of you for a couple more seconds before he slowly pulls out and flops by your side on the soft grass. He’s breathing heavily as you let the cool breeze fan over your sensitive swollen womanhood, the wind doing wonders for your hot sweaty skin as you try and calm down from your buzz. You close your eyes with a satisfied smile upon your content face as Din turns over to you with an equally joyous grin.

You listen and feel as he scoots himself against your side so that he can rest his arm over your stomach, his scruffy face inches from your cheek as he gently kisses you before resting his head against your temple. You lift your arm up to lay it over top of his as he hugs your side, doing his best to keep you as close to him as physically possible.

A pleasant sigh departs from his pouty lips, fanning the side of your face as you smile, “Y/N, you are very special to me...I just thought that you should know. Incase you ever forget.”

A small chuckle escapes you at his soft words, “Din I don’t think I could ever forget, you mean more to me then all the stars in the sky...more than the most valuable gems to ever exist or even my lightsaber.” He kisses your temple once again, “I believe the force has brought me to you my love, and I’m forever grateful for that.” You voice is a soft whisper on the breeze, yet he hears it all the same.

“Y/N I love you more than life, you are too sweet my beloved.” Your heart skips at his truthful reply, a small lump in your throat forming as he presses his nose against your hairline.

You turn your head to see his face better, he locks eyes with your own as a shy smile appears on his face, “Din Djaren you’re going to make me cry, shut up.” You muse with a quick kiss to his lips, looking into his dark brown irises like they hold all the answers to the universe.

He smiles against your cheek, kissing you there once more, “Never.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x you #din djaren x you #din djarin #din djaren x reader #din djaren imagine #the child #grogu #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal

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khushboo152007 · 3 years

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⚠Mention of Kidnapping and toxic behaviour. BTS aren't like this in real life ⚠

It's been two years since you were kidnapped and were forced to be their baby sister. They all were obsessed with you and believed you were part of their family. Even after 2 years, you weren't used to them.

Today surprisingly nobody was sleeping beside you and smothering you in cuddles.

" Y/N baby it's time to wake up" Speak of the devil. It was your 'oldest brother Jin. He did all the cooking and was like a mother hen. Most of the times he worked from home to take care of you.

He gently shook you as he entered the room. " Wakey Wakey Sleepyhead" He cooed as he lifted blankets. You slowly opened your eyes and saw him looking at you with a gentle smile on his face. " Come on tiny let's get you dressed. Your oppas are waiting for you and we have a special guest coming today " He spoke softly as he picked you up and you looked at him and said, " Who is coming today? ". He just replied, " It's a surprise".

" Oppa can I get ready on my own for today please Oppa" You pleaded hoping he will agree. Only on rare occasions, you were allowed to do things on your own. They all even took chances hand feeding you.

You remembered the first time you woke up in the strange room. The room had similar features to your childhood room except it was 2 times bigger and the windows had bars on them. You shouted at them, asking where were you and who they all are.

Your third oldest brother Namjoon or RM he introduced himself after you were forced to calm down as they threatened you that they will be forced to drug you if you continued to shout and struggle.

Then they explained that you will be now part of their family their baby sister. The first few months you didn't miss a chance to escape and would always struggle and fight not wanting their affection.

But they never punished you physically. Yes, you were punished but you would be gagged and chained to the bed. Meaning you have to depend on them for every single thing from going to the washroom to have a bath. Yes, they bathed you but it wasn't sexual. It was more of like bathing an infant or toddler. Or they all know you didn't like to spend time with them, so the little time you got to yourself was also snatched away with privileges like watching tv and listening to music.

So here you are now 2 years later in the arms of one of your captors or eldest brother pleading him to let you bathe on your own. " No little one you know the rules and you have us to take care of you," Jin said in a tone that sounded like he was scolding a misbehaving toddler.

After he bathed and dressed you. He had picked you up and carried you to the dining room where everyone was waiting for both of you.

" Good morning Angelface/ flower/petal /cupcake/pumpkin/treasure" Was what you heard as soon as you both entered the dining room and were sat on Suga's lap as it was his turn today.

You let out a" morning oppas" fiddling with your fingers. Few of them hummed in reply and few others nodded their heads at you. Today's breakfast was bean sprout salad, Korean Scallion Pancake and Baechu Kimchi and Rice.

Suga fed you until you could see a bulge and told him that you were full. The maid took the dishes away and now you were all in the living room. You were now sitting next to Taehyung and Jungkook as Taehyung had an arm around your shoulder and was typing on his phone while Jungkook was playing with your hair and you were watching a movie on your iPad that was "baby-proofed "as they all called it means you can't call or text anyone except them.

" Ju-in yours guests are here, " A maid said. As two tall men came in.

" Y/n , hyungs," Geon and Jeong-Gwan said as he walked towards you all. Park Geon and Lee Jeong-Gwan were your "brothers" best friend and helped them in kidnapping you. They were both as crazy as your brothers.

" Y/N we have to tell you something," Jimin said.

" Yes Oppa" you replied

" Y/N you are getting married to Geon and Jeon-Gwan in a few days" Hoseok announced.

#soft yandere #yandere suga #yandere bts #yandere x reader #yandere jin #yandere jimin #yandere namjoon #yandere hoseok #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #bts ff #bts x reader

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suituuup · 3 years

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pieces - epilogue

That’s it, folks! Thank you for coming along this journey. Huge shout out to @snowonebutyou and @lilhan, this story wouldn’t have been the same without their help.

ao3 link

“Come on Bean, you can do it,” Chloe encouraged, holding her arms out towards Marleigh as the one-year-old stood, Beca sitting behind her.

Marleigh grinned and took an unsteady step, then another one, before falling on her bum. She giggled and pushed back to her feet to make the remaining three steps to her mom, collapsing into her arms.

“Oh my goodness, you’re walking,” Chloe gushed as she peppered her face with kisses. “Where did the time go??” She set her back down, facing Beca. “Wanna do it again?”

Beca grinned, extending her arms this time. “Come to Auntie Beca, MJ!”

Chloe smiled, holding Marleigh’s hips as she spoke close to her ear. “Go to Mama.”

Beca froze and met her eyes, a silent question swirling in them as they simultaneously filled with tears. Chloe’s smile simply widened, and she glanced away from Beca to focus on Marleigh as she toddled to Beca, squealing as she did.

“You-- really?” Beca asked as she held Marleigh against her.

Chloe nodded. “You’re not her aunt, Bec. You’ve been there since day one, raising her with me. I know it can’t be official on paper yet, but to me, you’re Marleigh’s other parent.” After a pause, she added, “If you want that, that is.”

Beca visibly swallowed, and a couple of tears spilled down her cheeks. She cleared her throat, seemingly at a loss for words as she glanced at MJ, leaning in to kiss her chubby cheek.

Beca wasn’t a fan of the cold, but she had to admit that a white Christmas was pretty dope.

So was Christmas in the Beale fashion. They had spent the day before baking cookies, singing Christmas carols, and once it was dark, had gone out to Rockefeller to see the tree.

Beca woke to the sound of babbling through the baby monitor that morning, and after finding Chloe sound asleep, turned the device off and slipped from under the covers. She padded to the nursery across the hall and smiled at the sight of a wide-awake Marleigh staring up at her with those big blue eyes.

“G’morning, Bean,” she murmured, bending down to pick her up. Turned out Marleigh was still a bit sleepy, cuddling into Beca as soon as she was in her arms. Beca brushed a kiss to her forehead. “Merry Christmas.”

She walked down the hall towards the living room and turned on the tree lights, knowing how obsessed Marleigh was with the colors.

“Look at aaaaall the presents, Mar,” Beca said as she pointed to the various piles of gifts she and Chloe had hustled to wrap last night. “I think most of it is for you, baby.”

Marleigh babbled incoherent things, pointing to the tree. Her features broke into a wide smile as she looked at something over Beca’s shoulder, and Beca turned around to see Chloe padding over.

“Merry Christmas,” Chloe said, leaning in to kiss Beca’s lips, then Marleigh’s cheek.

Marleigh had a blast opening her presents, even though she looked definitely more entertained by the wrapping paper than the gifts themselves. Beca felt nerves sprout in her belly as she stood up to pour herself more coffee, plucking the small box laying under the tree and handing it to MJ.

“This is for Mommy,” she whispered, pointing to Chloe. “Can you go give it to her?”

“Ya!” Marleigh exclaimed and walked over to where Chloe sat.

Chloe glanced at Beca questioningly, then at her daughter. She took the box, her hand shaking lightly. “Thank you, baby.” Her eyes met Beca once more, then widened as she opened the box to find a sparkling diamond ring. Not any ring; her grandmother’s. “Beca…”

When she finally tore her gaze away from it, Beca had shuffled closer. “That business trip I took to LA a couple of months ago? It was actually to Portland. I wanted to ask your parents if they were okay with me asking you an important question, and your mom insisted I had this ring. Chloe…” she took a deep breath, shifting from a sitting position to down one knee. “You are everything to me. This past year and a half have been my happiest yet, and it’s all because of you. And I want to make this, us, to become a forever thing,” Beca paused, smiling as happy tears stung her eyes. “Chlo, will you marry me?”

Chloe choked on a watery chuckle. “Yes,” she whispered, crushing the distance between them to press a lingering kiss on Beca’s lips. “I love you.”

Beca beamed. “I love you, too.” She laughed when Bean crashed their embrace, wrapping an arm around her. Her heart felt fit to burst from happiness. “And you.”

They started house hunting as soon as Chloe secured a vet tech position in the clinic she was completing her internship in, in Stamford, Connecticut. After a couple of months’ search, they found a lovely farmhouse in Westchester County, just outside of Bedford, located an hour from Manhattan and thirty minutes from Stamford.

It was built in the 1900s in the New England housing style, complete with the traditional covered porch, metal standing seam roof, rafter tails, and barn-style garage. The interior had been fully renovated, giving way to a fresh and modern spin.

“There’s a greenhouse, too, and a cottage,” Chloe said with a soft gasp as they wandered about the three acres that came with the property after visiting the inside. Marleigh was just ahead of them, exploring. “We’d have enough space for a dog, and maybe some goats and chickens?”

Beca chuckled. “Goats and chickens? Since when are we having a farm?”

Chloe giggled, shrugging. “I really want Bean to grow up around animals.”

Beca smiled and kissed Chloe’s cheek. “Fine, we can have goats and chickens. I won’t be going around the chickens, though. They kinda scare me.”

“Really?” Chloe asked, unable to stop herself from snickering.

Beca glared. “Don’t make fun of me, Beale.”

“Mommy!” Marleigh called out, holding up what looked like a daisy. “Look. Pwetty.”

Chloe crouched down to her level, smiling. “Very pretty. Do you like it here, baby?”

Marleigh nodded her pigtails bouncing with the movement. She pointed to the swingset. “We go there?”

Chloe pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Go ahead.”

They signed the papers a few weeks later and were set to move there the following summer, after Chloe’s graduation.

All the pieces of her puzzle were finally coming together, and Chloe couldn’t feel happier.

“You ready to clap, Bean?” Beca asked as she and Marleigh sat in one of the back rows, among the other students’ families. “It’s almost Mommy’s turn.”

“Mommy?” Marleigh asked, pointing at the stage.

“Not yet,” Beca murmured, smiling at her impatience and brushing a kiss to her head.

Two students later, Chloe walked across the stage.

“Mommy!” Marleigh called out as the Dean handed Chloe her diploma. She clapped from her spot on Beca’s lap, beaming. Chloe waved and blew them a kiss before she headed down the steps leading off the stage.

The ceremony ended forty-five minutes later, and Beca and MJ met up with Chloe by the side of the stage.

“Congratulations, baby,” Beca murmured, kissing her softly. “I’m so proud of you.”

Marleigh dutifully gave her mom the flowers she and Beca picked up this morning. “Congwatulations, Mommy!”

Chloe bent down to pick her up. “Thank you, my love. I feel like this calls for ice cream. What do you say?”

“Yes! I want four scoops!” Marleigh declared, holding up three fingers.

Beca chuckled, holding up four fingers herself. “That’s four, Bean.”

Marleigh copied her, grinning “Four scoops!”

Beca tickled her sides, drawing a string of uncontrolled giggles from the toddler. They settled at the park with their ice cream, enjoying the warm June afternoon.

Chloe cuddled close to Beca as they watched Marleigh play with her toys ten feet away. “She’s growing up way too fast,” Chloe murmured.

Beca hummed. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you’re ready to have another kid, Beale?”

A giggle flitted past Chloe’s lips. “No. I think we’re just on the brink of getting a case of the terrible twos, so it’s probably best if we only have one kid to handle for now.”

Beca laughed. MJ was definitely showing some temper and had already given them a taste of what toddler tantrums could be like. “That’s probably wise. And maybe we could get married first, too?”

With the house hunting and Chloe finishing up her school year, they hadn’t really talked about it.

“Can we do it at home? I really want my dad to be there.”

Her father’s condition had stabilized over the last year or so. They had visited him a few times since MJ’s birth, and Beca could tell he was relieved to be able to hold his granddaughter and interact with her despite his condition.

“Of course we can,” she murmured, brushing a kiss to Chloe’s forehead. “I was also thinking… that we could stay there longer this summer? Two weeks is going to fly by, and if we stayed a month then maybe your mom could take some time off?”

Alice had been caring for her husband for the last five years, and Chloe had shared that she was worried it was taking too much of a toll on her.

Chloe lifted her head from Beca’s chest. “Would you really be okay with that?”

“Yeah,” Beca said, brushing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Mama,” MJ called as she walked over, holding a rock. “Pwesent.”

Beca held out her hand, smiling. Marleigh had an obsession with rocks, lately. “Thank you, baby. I love it.”

MJ snuggled in between the two of them, curling up against Beca’s chest.

“You tired, Bean?” Beca asked softly, dropping a kiss on her hair. MJ didn’t answer, her breathing evening out a few seconds later.

Beca shared a look with Chloe and smiled. It felt odd to think of how, ten years ago, she was convinced music and success would be the key to her happiness. And it had been, for a good five years, up until Chloe came back into her life.

This, what they built together since then, brought Beca to another level of happiness she didn’t know was possible.

They got married on a warm September evening, at an orchard with the ocean as a gorgeous backdrop.

Marleigh was supposed to be the flower girl, but she changed her mind last minute, refusing to go first and clinging to Chloe, who ended up picking her up before she walked down the aisle alongside her father.

Beca’s father walked her down the aisle next, and Chloe heard Marleigh gasp. “Mama looks pwetty,” the two-year-old whispered.

“She really does,” Chloe agreed quietly, tears of happiness already filling her eyes as Beca came to a stop in front of her.

“You look…” Beca faltered, shaking her head as what looked like awe flashed in her features. “Incredibly beautiful, Chlo.” Her focus shifted to MJ. “And you’re the cutest flower girl ever.”

Marleigh giggled and motioned for Chloe to set her down, but she remained by Aubrey’s side. They recited their vows in front of their closest friends and immediate family, exchanging rings and somehow managing to make it through the ceremony without bawling their eyes out.

“I now pronounce you, wife and wife,” Aubrey said, a beaming smile breaking across her features. “You may now kiss.”

Chloe grinned and cupped Beca’s cheek, stepping closer and pressing a lingering kiss to her lips as their friends whistled and hooted.

“Yuck!” Marleigh exclaimed, and Chloe found her peeking through her fingers when they parted.

She laughed and picked her up, she and Beca kissing each cheek before they started down the aisle under the applause of their loved ones.

“Where we going?”

Beca smiled as she laced Marleigh’s shoes. “We’re going to the courthouse, Bean.”

“Wha’s that?”

“It’s where big decisions are made, by people we call judges. Today we’re meeting with a judge who will decide if I can become your real mom.”

They had tried to explain that to Marleigh since signing the petition for Beca to adopt her, but Marleigh had argued that Beca was already her Mama. It had been a long process since their wedding, with background checks and a visit from the child protective services.

“I hope the judge says yes,” Marleigh said as she swung her legs.

Beca smiled. “Me, too.” She kissed her forehead and picked her up, heading down the stairs. Part of her expected Marco to show up out of the blue, but she knew that was unlikely, as he probably didn’t know of Marleigh’s existence.

Nerves sprouted in Beca’s belly when they sat down for the final hearing. Marleigh sat on her lap, asking questions about the room they were in and being a welcome distraction as they waited for the judge.

“And that?”

“That’s a gavel,” Beca said. “The judge hits it when he makes a decision, or sometimes, when there’s a lot of people in the room and they’re talking too loud, the judge will slam it on their desk to request silence.”

They stood when the judge walked in, the middle-aged woman motioning for them to sit down while she reviewed their file.

“Mrs. Rebecca Mitchell, is it still your intent to adopt Marleigh Beale and become her other parent under the eyes of the law?”

“Yes, your honor,” Beca answered, her voice shaking slightly as emotions swirled in her chest.

“Mrs. Chloe Mitchell, do you still consent to Rebecca adopting your daughter and giving her, her last name?”

“I do, your honor.”

The judge motioned for them to come forward. “Sign here, and here.”

Beca sucked in a sharp breath, meeting Chloe’s eyes before she took the pen and scribbled her signature at the bottom of the document. Chloe did the same right after, casting Beca a smile.

“You say yes?” Marleigh asked, looking up at the judge. “Mama is my real mom, now?”

The judge chuckled, smiling warmly. “She is. Congratulations.”

Beca wiped a tear sliding down her cheek. “Thank you.”

She pulled her family into a long embrace as soon as they stepped out of the courtroom, basking into the moment.

“Can we go get ice cream, now?” Marleigh asked, breaking the silence.

Chloe smiled and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “I think that’s a great idea.” She slid her hand into Beca’s, raising it to her lips and dropping a kiss to her knuckles. “Come on, Mitchells. Ice cream’s on me.”

Fall was Chloe’s favorite season. It got incredibly beautiful in Westchester once the tree adorned their golden and scarlet leaves, and one of her favorite things to do was sit on the porch swing while nursing on a cup of coffee or tea, sometimes reading a book, other times watching her daughter play with her dad in the backyard, like today.

Her parents had moved to the East Coast six months ago, as they wanted to spend more time with Marleigh. It made sense that they moved into the cottage on Beca and Chloe’s farm, so Chloe could be around to help her mom out. They had fully renovated the interior, with a fully-equipped kitchen, master bedroom, and cozy living and dining room. Marleigh was thrilled to have her grandparents around. She loved to play games with her grandpa and do farm tasks with her grandma, like feeding the chickens and goats, collecting eggs, or gardening.

“Go fish.”

Marleigh made a disgruntled noise as she reached for another card. She huffed dramatically when Mike asked her for a card she had. “Grandpaaaa.”

Chloe looked over her shoulder when she heard approaching footsteps. She smiled at her wife as Beca sat down beside her, and reached over to stroke her growing belly.

Chloe released a content sigh. “Do you ever feel like… pinching yourself? Because this feels too good to be true?”

“Every morning when I wake up next to you,” Beca said, a teasing lilt to her tone.

Chloe giggled. “Corny.” She turned her head to look at Beca. “When I was at my worst, I thought my life as it was back then would be it. I thought that I was far too broken to come back from it,” she paused, glancing at Marleigh and her parents and blinking back the tears threatening to blur her vision. “And now I have all this, and sometimes I can’t believe that this is my life. I feel incredibly grateful and lucky. More than I can put into words.”

Chloe had been clean for nearly five years now. She hadn’t touched cocaine or alcohol since her first day of rehab and the cravings were no longer there. She sometimes thought about it on difficult days, but that’s all it was: a thought. It drifted away nearly as soon as it materialized, because Chloe was stronger now, and she knew how to handle the fleeting temptation.

Beca pressed a kiss to her temple. “You fought for that, Chlo. First by leaving Marco, then going to rehab, and being determined to keep your head above the water through the bad days that followed.”

Chloe’s free hand slid inside Beca’s. “Thank you for believing in me. For believing that there was still a piece of the Chloe you once knew in there.”

Beca lifted their hands and pressed a lingering kiss to Chloe’s fingers. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Their peaceful, heartfelt moment was soon over when the tornado that was their four-year-old ran up to them.

“Mama,” Marleigh said as she settled on Beca’s lap.

“What’s up, Bean?”

“How did you and Mommy meet?”

Beca hummed. “We went to school together. Mommy forced me into joining this singing group.”

Chloe gasped. “I didn’t force you, Beca Mitchell.”

“You burst into my shower,” Beca muttered as Marleigh giggled.

“While you were naked?!”

“Yep,” Beca said, widening her eyes at their daughter. “Can you believe that?”

“Was it love at first sight?”

“No. It was something deeper than that. For me at least. Something that grew slowly in my heart. So slowly that it took years for me to realize it.”

“Years??” Marleigh gasped. “That’s a long time.”

“Yeah. I was an idiot.”

Chloe giggled. “We were both idiots.”

“But now you’re together, and that’s what’s important, right?”

Chloe narrowed her eyes at MJ and reached out to ruffle her red hair. “When did you get so smart?”

Marleigh shrugged, then dashed off to go back to her grandparents, drawing a chuckle from both Beca and Chloe. Beca glanced at Chloe, squeezing her leg. “You alright?”

“Mmm.” Chloe rested her head on Beca’s shoulder, her hand finding Beca’s stomach once more in hopes of feeling a kick or two. “More than alright.”

-fin-

#bechloe #bechloe fanfiction #chloe beale #beca mitchell

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nevaryadl · 3 years

Text

Kenshi and Ermac visit Takeda and Jacqui on maternity leave cw: trans male pregnancy

"We can feel her inside of you."

"That's creepy."

They frowned and Takeda laughed. Oh, he was 'teasing' them again. He was doing that more and more, 'because you're family Ermac' Takeda had explained not long ago. Much like many of the strange, strange Earthrealmers were prone to do, they supposed. They still wished they were better at reading when people were being serious and when people were joking with them. It was a skill that they were woefully lacking in.

"It's fine, I get it," Takeda laughed before taking up one of Ermac's hands again and pressing it to the roundness of his stomach. Once again, they caught the traces of the budding and building soul within him, soft and new and green like a fresh sprout, pushing out from the soft soul of her father to one day be her own being one day.

"Be gentle, dear," Kenshi joked as he sat on Takeda's other side.

"Both of you hooligans be gentle, he's been bruising like an overripe fruit lately," Jacqui scolded gently, coming in from further in the Takahashi-Briggs house with an oversized hoodie, going over and helping her husband sit up and tug it on him before giving him time with his dad and his dad's partner with a kiss to his temple.

"What does a baby's soul feel like, Mac?" Kenshi asked, Takeda perking up because he was curious too.

"It feels like... a bean sprout. Soft and green and new. But not... quite," They explained, failing to find the words to properly explain the feeling that was so familiar and known to them to two men that would probably never quite get it. "Like a bean sprout coming from a bean stalk. The spark of life from another, pulling away and leaving the first mostly unharmed, growing and budding into a new being that becomes their own... her soul is beautiful. Like yours. Like Jacqueline's. Like Kenshi's."

"D'aww," Kenshi drawled, getting a snicker from his son.

"That's really sweet, Ermac," Takeda grinned.

"Tis the simple truth," Ermac said, slightly flustered by the attention. "We only ever speak the truth. Like we are grateful for this allowance into your family--"

"Ermac... you're like practically married to my dad, of course you're family," Takeda beamed.

"M-married?" They sputtered, feeling themself turn red.

"Mmm, I'm getting ideas," Kenshi grinned, throwing them a mischievous look and making them sputter some more in embarrassment.

"Okay, but like after the baby gets here? If my dad is getting remarried, I wanna wear a suit and put my baby in a poofy little dress," Takeda piped up.

While Kenshi laughed and joked with Takeda more, they opted to focus instead of that budding soul. They felt a flutter of joy pass between them, the sweet budding soul tasting her father's joy and reflecting it. They looked forward to the day where she could blossom into the world and taste her own and share it with her family. And, they supposed if they were guessing right and that Kenshi was absolutely not joking about wishing to tie them together... they very much looked forward to being able to hold their granddaughter.

#mk #Mortal Kombat #kenmac #Jacqui Briggs/Takahashi Takeda #Takahashi Kenshi #Takahashi Takeda #jacqui briggs #Ermac #tw: trans male pregnancy #fluff #queue

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svtkillua · 3 years

Text

milk and tea > 2

rating: [pg-13 / angst] genre: soulmate au pairing: todoroki shouto x reader warnings: cursing, heartbreak, angst! word count: 9.5k

listen while you read here! join the discord!

1 - chap 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 [final]

The pendant hanging from your neck felt heavier the longer you wore it, like the days of the week that had ticked past added pounds to the object by the hour. You simultaneously adored it and loathed it, constantly catching yourself staring at it and fiddling your fingers around the chain. You loved that it reminded you of him, that the present special from Todoroki somehow made you feel like you yourself were special, like the gift was as close to a boyfriend like gesture you’d ever get. It made you feel adored, like the silver chain was a harsh contrast to the gold on your palm because it was a different reality, one that for a moment didn’t seem like a daydream. You hated it, however, when you stared too long and remembered that a few minutes after he slipped it on your neck he left to be with her. You loathed it for being a constant whisper reminding you that it was just a necklace, just a birthday present, not a declaration of love in the form of jewellery, but a kind gesture between friends. Because that was all you could be to Todoroki as hard as you tried to imagine otherwise.

“Are you listening to me?”

Your head lifted from its downward angle, eyes trailing from the wooden table top to the wide windows of the cafe, the sounds around you feeling too loud for the small space. People were tucked in at all the tables, several offices on the upper floors of the building leading to a packed cafe every lunch rush. You almost always came down to grab coffee and a bagel, used to the hoards of people that blended in with the beige and brown walls, familiar with the scent of roasting coffee beans and the hum of the espresso grinder. You shifted in your seat as you looked back over at your friend, setting down the sandwich you’d been picking at, brushing your hands together in a silent clap in an attempt to brush off the crumbs.

“Sorry, Izuku.” Your head shook side to side as you eyed his pouting features, cracking a smile at the way he huffed out a breath of air, lips puckered like a child who hadn’t gotten their way. Midoriya was perhaps your closest friend next to Todoroki, someone who had never pitied you but rather tried to fill your life with brightness. It was no wonder his soulmate was so enamored with him, you couldn’t blame her, his personality was affectionately child like, so awake and full of life you almost envied him for his eternal positivity. “I sort of zoned out.”

“It’s alright, I was kind of rambling to be honest.” He chuckled with a shrug, the sweater he had on bunching slightly around his neck, the fabric looking too thick for the warm spring temperature. He had on wide, round glasses, his hair a bit more curly than normal from the small amount of humidity in the air, fingers wrapped around a huge plastic cup full of peach tea. “How was your birthday? We missed you at the bar.”

“Okay I guess.” The fidget you made in your seat was involuntary, fingers trailing over the line on your palm out of habit. The light was hitting it just enough to make it seem to glow, the gold glinting in your irises as you flickered a glance between it and Midoriya, shoulders bobbing in a shrug. “Todoroki came over for a bit, we had a pizza.”

“That sounds like a boring birthday celebration.”

“Well I didn’t exactly feel like throwing a wild party, Midoriya.” Your eyes rolled at him, fingers drumming into the table top as you glanced at someone who waved in passing. Part of you felt anxious, wondering where Todoroki was even though you knew he was more than likely working out. He tended to work during his lunch breaks most days, which was what got you in the habit of bringing him coffees and snacks on your way back to the office across the hall.

“Are you okay?” His palm landed on top of your knuckles, the gesture innocent but filling you with a bit of warmth, the genuine flash of concern on his features almost comforting. “I mean, I know you’re probably upset but, you know.”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, shrugging and glancing at his soulmark, the bright blue on the face of his hand in a swirly pattern, almost mimicking that of a flower. The color bloomed against his skin tone, like a spot of blue sky poking out from clouds on a summer day, Midoriya himself the ball of sun beaming through the air. “It’s not like there’s much I can do to change how things are, everything just feels wrong. It feels unfair, like something’s not making sense how it was supposed to. I don’t know how to be okay when I’m supposed to be happy alone. I don’t feel happy alone, I feel lonely.”

He nodded slowly, hand retreating to instead pick at his sweater, cup lifting as his lips wrapped around the straw and he took a gulp, adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes danced around the room as he debated what to say, eyelids fluttering as he blinked when the sun hit him directly in the face. You could almost see his thoughts forming, could picture the words as his messy scrawl put them down in his head, the ink bleeding into his tongue as he set his cup down to speak them into existence.

“Just because you don’t have a matching mark doesn’t mean you have to be alone.” He reasoned, nodding once towards you with a half hearted smile, his gaze flickering over the planes of your face while you tore your focus away. You knew what he was referring to, that several people without soulmates had ended up together, that people with circumstances like yours made their own destiny and chose their own path. It was illegal to not be with your soulmate but if you didn’t have one all bets were off, anyone else who was alone was up for your taking, but somehow that idea didn’t sound right in your head.

Maybe it was because you’d gotten so hung up on Todoroki but you didn’t feel like you were meant for just anyone, didn’t feel like you could make a deep connection with someone even if you could sit and talk to them for hours. Most everyone you heard of who didn’t have a soulmate was content being alone, didn’t feel so desperate for affection as you were, didn’t long for someone to hold them and be beside them all their life. For everyone else like you, it sounded like they were indeed made to be alone and they liked it that way, but you loathed it.

You constantly felt lonely, like the rest of the world had left you fend for yourself, like everyone else was paired off and had forgotten you were still there. It was hard to go outside and see people holding hands, getting close to the person that was meant for them. It stung to hear your friends had met their match, to go to their weddings and smile wide knowing that it would never get to be you standing there in white across from your soulmate. It made your chest burn to picture yourself marrying someone you weren’t made by the universe for, to look at the mark on your hand and know you’d never see it on another person for as long as you lived. It was cruel, like going out most days were torture to the beating muscle in your chest, like being happy was going to be one of the hardest challenges to achieve in your life.

The only thing that made you feel that way was Todoroki, and anymore that happiness came laced with the longing that you’d grown for him in your gut. You’d fallen so in love with Todoroki that it was hard to see past that now, that picturing him was enough to make your pulse quicken and throat constrict. Now the mere idea of watching him marry someone else made your eyes burn, fingers itching to feel him when you pictured someone else touching his beautiful skin you’d grown so attached to. Knowing he was a few floors up in the gym made your lips pull into a faint smile, almost like you could feel him there, could sense the warmth that radiated from his body and imagine it baking your skin.

Todoroki made you feel things others wouldn’t, and in a way perhaps that was why you’d found yourself growing so infatuated with him. That was always how they made soulmates seem in movies, like they would understand you in facets others couldn’t, that they would be the person that just clicked into place, like a missing puzzle piece you’d finally found. You couldn’t understand how you’d fallen so in love with someone who wasn’t meant for you, couldn’t grasp that even though you felt all the things you were supposed to feel for a soulmate, he wasn’t that person. Things had been hard before he met Momo, but afterwards it all felt worse, the love in your chest like a weight that made your feet drag and posture slouch.

“I gotta get back upstairs.” Your head lifted as Midoriya stood, your body following suit as he pulled you into a quick hug, smiling faintly with a nod as he walked off right after. You remained in place for a beat, watching his figure with a sigh, jealous of him, jealous of how easy he tried to always find a bright side in his head. You envied how second nature it was for him to be positive, to find a light in a room full of dark. It’d never been that way for you, never so easy to become a spark that filled everyone with vibrancy, if anything, you’d become the one that always turned the lights off.

After grabbing another coffee and pastry from the counter, your feet carried you up the flights of stairs towards the office, the steps resonating with loud smacks in the half empty staircase. They complimented the sound of your heart beat as it pounded in your ears, matching in rhythm the quicker you ascended them, the heavy door slamming behind you serving like a crescendo to the song being created behind your rib cage. This had slowly become your favorite part of the day, the short walk down the hall towards the double paned glass doors facing your own, admiring the way the sunlight sprouted through them and created hazy shapes on the carpeted floor. It looked so welcoming, like it was the perfect package just waiting for you to unwrap it, like the universe knew someday Todoroki would work there so they created an entry as warm as he was.

You spotted him as soon as you walked inside the studio room, waving at the receptionist as you strolled past her and further into the space, fans running that created a quiet hum that mixed with the clicking of cameras. He was always tucked back into the corner office whenever he was taking a break, the one directly across from the main studio space, the room with the most windows that overlooked the streets below even if he insisted he didn’t like heights. He was hunched slightly over his desk, camera laying idly beside his laptop as he moved his finger over the keyboard, brows furrowed together and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. His hair was pushed back off his forehead though pieces fell forward, like he kept fussing with it, lips parted as he exhaled, the angle of his jaw accentuated by the light streaming into his space from outside. He was oblivious to your approach, completely deaf to the outside world as he poured himself into his paperwork.

And gosh was he stunning.

“Todoroki?”

His head lifted in a flash, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he blinked rapidly until he focused on you, the curve of his lips spreading until his cheeks bunched upwards, eyes slipping faintly into half moons. The pang of guilt you felt for interrupting him washed away as he took his glasses off and moved to stand while you waved him off, moving closer to set his coffee and lunch down beside his computer. He was staring at you now as incessantly as he’d been doing to his computer, the sound of his foot tapping into the hardwood floors beneath his chair faintly reaching your ear when he sank back into his chair.

“You didn’t have to bring me lunch.”

“I knew you wouldn’t eat if I didn’t.” Your shoulders rose and fell with a faint laugh falling from your lips as you used one hand to push your hair away from your face. You looked his way long enough to catch his gaze before tearing your own away, pretending you didn’t feel the way his focus was making your esophagus feel too tight, like your heart had made a new home there. “Someone’s become quite the workaholic lately, hm?”

“I have not, I just have a lot to do and I’m too tired to continue exercising.” His fingers landed on top of yours as you took a step back to move towards the door, focus shifting back onto his features as he nodded once in your direction. You swallowed hard, trying to force down the rock forming in your throat as he slipped his fingers between your own long enough to give your hand a squeeze with your palms flushed together. It was almost sad how incredible a him barely holding your hand could make you feel, how the smallest amount of affection from Todoroki felt like he’d dropped to his knee and asked you to be his forever. “Thank you though. Stay for a few minutes and keep me company?”

He hardly had to put up an argument even if you should have shaken your head no, fingers slipping from his grasp as you sunk into the chair across from him, the desk serving as a barrier to separate your bodies. His posture relaxed once you were seated, lips wrapping around the opening of his cup as he snapped his eyes shut and took a quick sip, adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed and dropped the cup back down. The shirt he had on was gray, like the color of a sky after a thunderstorm in the middle of the summer, the colour making him look more drained as he pushed his wheeled chair slightly back from the confines of his desk, dark jeans clinging to his legs.

The simple smile that flashed over his features as the paper bag crinkled open between his fingers made your own cheeks tug upwards, nothing but a pastry and the spare half of your bagel shoved inside but it was enough to make him feel appreciated. He always looked grateful when you dropped him off a coffee or snack, always made a point of thanking you for days after, like you’d single handedly made the world spin for him. It was one of the million things you loved about him, how humble he was, how he considered every act of kindness he received as a gift, one he couldn’t wait to return the first chance he got.

“So what are you working on that’s so interesting?” His head rose when you spoke, eyebrows furrowing together as his lips pursed, jaw moving while he chewed on the sandwich. It made you grin, his cheeks full like a hamsters as he shuffled forward and swiveled his laptop around for you to see. The screen illuminated an article of breaking news covering crimes in the neighborhood, images of black and white mugshots dotted around the paragraphs in order to send a scary effect across to the reader.

“New villains showing up everywhere we least expect.” Your gaze flickered over to him when he spoke, eyes following the way his tongue poked out from between his lips, licking a crumb away from the pink flesh. He nodded his head once towards the screen before you focused back on it, voice thick as he half yawned, arms stretching forward and straining against the fabric of his shirt. “They want to be mysterious, I guess, but they’re not too good at covering their tracks. Quite an easy job for all of us right now.”

Your head bobbed in a nod as he trailed off his speaking, lifting the bagel back to his lips as you leaned back in your seat and turned slightly to look out one of the windows. You had to squint, the sun steaming in just high enough to cover your face in heat, burning your irises in comparison to the pale coloring of the room. It felt peaceful, your eyelids drooping shut and arms folding over your chest, heartbeat at a steady rhythm while you listened to Todoroki’s quiet humming as he ate. For a moment you let yourself pretend you were at home, that the pair of you was married and this was any regular work day evening, content just spending your time together not speaking, because the love you felt in your chest said enough.

It was so easy to fall into with him, the lull of security he provided simply by being there was too comforting to fight off. It’d become so natural to tune out the rest of the world when you were alone with Todoroki, like second nature to forget that the day dreams in your head were complete fiction. Being alone with him made it feel like it could be real, like the way your heart rate spiked when he laughed was normal because it was made for him to hold. His presence raised up the bubbles of hope in your chest until you felt like you were floating, like he’d placed you on top of a cloud and was letting you feel that sense of love you’d never really get, like he was letting you pretend your feelings for him were reciprocated without him even knowing it.

It was like you craved Todoroki as much as you wished you could get away from him, like you wanted to fight the pull he had on you but feared how you would continue to breathe without him there giving you oxygen. He was simultaneously becoming your perfect dream and your nightmare, and slowly the two ideals were mixing into one muddled mess of emotions you were having trouble sorting through. You weren’t sure how to separate your feelings for him from reality anymore, weren’t sure how to continue being in his life without completely destroying your own heart in the process.

A quiet click made your head move, eyes rolling as you groaned loudly and raised your hands to cover your face, Todoroki’s laughter mixing with the sound as he continued snapping away at you with his camera. You could hear his chair scraping against the wood as he stood up, footsteps indicating he was moving closer to you as your legs lifted, knees bent to try and curl yourself into a ball on the chair.

“C’mon, stop covering your face, the lighting looks great right now.”

“Knock it off.”

“Please?”

It felt right, with just the two of you there giggling over something so pointless, like that was how it was supposed to be. It felt like this was what the universe was supposed to have done, that all along it should have made the pair of you for the other, that you should have been the one that got to make him laugh like that every day. It felt like everything, for a moment, was how it was supposed to be, how your heart had decided it was supposed to be from the first moment you saw him in the park. Just you and Todoroki and no one else, nothing there to interrupt you besides the sounds of your own hearts beating.

“Stop!” You laughed at his insistence, peeking out from between your fingers to find him bending closer to you, his cheeks pulled into a wide smile as your eyes connected for the second he lowered his camera slightly. He took another picture, you could tell by the sound of his shutter releasing, another groan falling from your lips, this one laced with laughter as he reached a hand out and started gently tugging at your wrist. The contact felt electric, like he was shooting fireworks off that were spreading up your arm and making your heart skip a few beats out of surprise, his laughter only serving to heighten how light everything felt.

“Todoroki?”

It was laughable how quickly your mood could plummet, the air no longer feeling light and delicate, but rather too thick for you to breathe in, spine locking up as your legs dropped back to the ground with a gentle tap from your shoes meeting the wood. Todoroki’s touch on your wrist vanished, his laughter trailing off as he stood upright and cleared his throat, your eyes burning into his as he stared at you before focusing off at the door. You didn’t want to look at who it was, didn’t want to see her smiling face when Todoroki moved past you to give her a hug, just knowing it was happening right beside you enough to make your fingers dig into your thighs.

“Momo, I didn’t know you were stopping by.” His voice was pleasant but you could tell he was surprised, his posture stiff as he slowly came back into your line of sight with her in tow. You focused on her back at first, on the way her hair was tied up into a tight bun, on the clasp of her necklace that was catching the light as Todoroki pulled a chair over from the corner of the room for her to sit in.

“I wanted to bring you lunch.” Her voice was delicate, like her full volume was someone else’s whisper, her arms folding in her lap as she sat down, Todoroki’s palm on her lower back as she did so enough to make you swallow harshly. She was wearing one of his jackets, you noted, that brown one with the elbow patch you’d sewn on for him when he ripped it during a night out. “I hope I’m not interrupting something.”

“You’re not.”

Her head whipped over to focus on you once you spoke, the smile on your lips feeling as ingenuine as it did uncomfortable, your fingers weaving together as she flashed you an tense grin with her nod. She was holding a paper bag with Todoroki’s name written on it in swirly black ink, a heart scribbled beside the T with a smiley face inside. She passed it off to him, her fingers brushing his own as he nodded in appreciation, setting the bag beside your own crumbled up one, it almost seeming like a metaphor for the two of you, one that made you exhale like a deflating balloon, the false sense of comfort you had now ripped away. Todoroki cleared his throat awkwardly, a silence falling over the room that made you itch to escape it, like the walls were closing in on you the longer you sat there watching him glance between the two of you.

“Well, good.” She pressed her lips into a thin line as she nodded and looked over at Todoroki, your eyes flickering to her palm, seeing her soulmark when she flexed her fingers back and forth mid air, like she was trying to stretch out a muscle. Your own palm suddenly felt like it burned, like your subconscious was reminding you of how badly you wished you had that mark. You would have given anything to be in Momo position, to be the person that Todoroki would marry and have a forever with, to be the person Todoroki loved so strongly it was all consuming and soul changing. “How’s your day been?”

It almost felt like you weren’t there, watching Todoroki turn his screen towards Momo as he started rambling on about his morning, like you were seeing a scene from a movie you didn’t want to be watching. You could almost picture them like that, like this was how they’d be as the years passed, chatting in their kitchen while the rest of the world fell away behind them, their skin growing wrinkles but their palms staying matching and pristine. It stung, like the bubbles of hope you let yourself build up were all being popped one by one, like wasps were stinging your insides just to put you back in your place.

“Todoroki we need you out here for a second?” A girl poking her head into the room looked apologetic as she motioned for Todoroki to follow her, his eyes darting between your own and Momo’s before he was slipping out. You wanted to grab his wrist and drag him back in, wanted to force him to stay and serve as a barrier protecting you from talking to your own worst fear. Momo was everything you wished you were, the person you were most envious of and found yourself loathing when none of this was her fault.

She couldn’t help it the universe had paired her with Todoroki, she couldn’t help it that she was made for him and you weren’t. It wasn’t her fault that you didn’t have a soulmate and yet on the nights you laid alone in bed you found yourself blaming her, because she had gotten the person you craved like a drug. She couldn’t change the fact that you were made to be alone, that you had fallen in love with a man that was made for someone else, someone you could never be. You could blame her all you wanted but none of this was Momo’s fault, and deep in your chest you knew that, you just wanted someone to be mad at. Disliking her had seemed the easiest way of avoiding the demons you liked to ignore, the truth of knowing that you were meant for no one and there was no reasoning behind it too much for you to accept. You wanted a cause, wanted an explanation, even if you’d never truly get one.

And through your jealousy that temporary bandage of an explanation had become her.

“He works too much sometimes, don’t you think?” Her light voice made you lift your head, eyes flickering over her features as she stared at his desk, drawing on the surface with the tip of her finger. She had a half smile on her lips as she shook her head side to side, laughing faintly as she adjusted in her seat, the dark jeans she had on almost matching the ones Todoroki had on, pale pink sneakers poking out beneath the ends of them. “I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and find him typing away on his laptop.”

You tried to laugh, tried to ignore how your chest stung picturing them in bed together, tried to pretend the mental image didn’t make you want to curl up in a ball and scream until your lungs gave out. She meant well, she was trying to make conversation rather than sit there in silence in her boyfriends office, but you doubted your amusement was even half convincing. You weren’t sure it was possible to be genuine when your insides felt like they were rotting, weren’t sure if you could even be truly happy when your soul had stopped trying to a while ago.

“Yeah, he gets sucked into it sometimes.” Your head bobbed in a half nod as you focused back down on your legs, tracing circles around the red scratch on your knee from when you bumped into your bed frame earlier in the week.

“I’m sure it’s just because he’s so passionate about it, but sometimes it worries me. I’d hate to see him overwork himself.” She trailed off, eyes focused on you judging by the slight shift in voice and the subtle goosebumps rising on the back of your neck. You lifted your head to lock eyes with her, hands overlapping each other in your lap as she pressed her lips into a thin line, like she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. “Does he mention it to you? That he’s tired or unhappy?”

Todoroki was never really one to share emotions with people, not the ones that he didn’t deem good or important enough. It took you months of persistence before he opened up about any problems he had, any unhappiness that lingered in his heart. He took a lot on himself, held the weight of the world on the tops of his shoulders but still stood tall with a smile on his face. He didn’t like admitting he needed help or comfort, besides with a few people, and somehow you’d become lucky enough to be one of them.

You’d become the friend who he called in the middle of the night to talk about the things that were keeping him up. You’d become the one who heard of all the problems his parents had caused for him, the one who listened to the things he disliked about society and the way the world worked. You were his confidant and his comfort blanket, and in many ways he was yours, the one person who never judged you when the mark on your hand made you want to ball your eyes out. He never pushed away from you when the rest of the world sent you judging looks, never let others assumptions change the way he acted around you.

All he wanted at the end of the day was to be happy, and for the people he cared about to feel the same. You knew how heavily it weighed on him when someone was upset or unhappy, and sometimes he felt the need to try and fix things himself. He always went out of his way to do extra work if it’d help his co workers, always volunteered to be the one paying for other’s lunches so it wasn’t a burden. He always went to his family dinners even if they made him miserable, always put up with his parents nasty remarks and harsh judgements because he thought he had to. He pushed back in little ways, with his career and choice of friends, but sometimes you wondered if it was enough for him.

He had a heart that was surely even more golden than the shimmering line on your palm, one that shined like a lighthouse in the dead of night, but also weighed heavily in his chest. Sometimes you wondered if he was stopping himself from being as happy as he made most everyone else. You questioned, if he could have anything in the entire world, what he would want, what the secret wishes were he had that he’d never uttered out loud.

If you could wish for anything, you would wish for him.

“No, but I don’t think he would admit working too much is a problem anyway.” She nodded, glancing away to focus out the window at your response, the light falling over her features like a spotlight on a beautiful painting. “I should get going, my lunch break is ending soon.”

Her head moved up and down as you stood, eyes not turning towards you as you tugged down on your skirt, making sure it hadn’t ridden up. She was outlining her soulmark, you noticed, the dark lines stretching along her palm almost dark as the night sky, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. You could picture it on Todoroki’s, could see the mark you’d memorized and tried to wish away like a movie playing in your subconscious. They probably traced eachother’s all the time, probably had dreamed their whole lives of meeting the other and lucky for them they had. Lucky for them they had someone who matched them, they got to love the person they wanted to love and didn’t have to hide it under blankets of self loathing.

From the time you were a child it was all you heard about, soulmates, how magical and wonderful it would be when you met them. Everyone talked about it, about how that one person was the only one meant for you, society ensuring that with the laws preventing non-soulmate relationships over a certain age. There were people who didn’t like it, those who found the laws oppressive and out of date, considering most people ended up with their soulmate anyway, but fighting back was pointless. It was all so ingrained into society at this point, the nursery rhymes you’d sing at recess even laced with the messages of your one and only being the one you matched marks with.

They always said the only person you’d truly love would be your soulmate, and maybe that was why ignoring how strongly you felt for Todoroki hurt so much. Because he wasn’t your soulmate, he didn’t match your mark and yet you’d fallen so damn in love with him it seemed impossible for your brain to accept he didn’t belong with you. Even there in his office, staring at the girl with a mark on her palm that was an exact copy of Todoroki’s, it felt wrong, like the burning in your chest was more than just jealousy. You loved him more than all the stars loved the night sky and you couldn’t help the thought that maybe you loved him more than Momo could.

“I like your necklace, by the way.” You paused your movements towards the door when she spoke up, spine tensing as your fingers subconsciously rose to toy with the pendant hanging from your neck. You turned back towards her, her eyes drawn to where your hand was, her lips spread in a half smile that curved downwards as her fingers curled, hand palming into a loose fist on her lap. “Todoroki gave it to you?”

She phrased it like a question but didn’t seem to want an answer, your lips parted slightly as you swallowed down hard. Your hand slipped away from the necklace, landing back at your side as you nodded once nonetheless, her eyes drifting away from the jewelry to instead float back up to your face, smile faded as she blinked a few times. The air felt heavier, more thick, like the unknown thoughts running through her head were clogging up the space, skin feeling too hot like suddenly you had on a hundred layers of clothing.

“I found it one day, when I was doing the laundry. He’d forgotten to take it out of his jacket pocket before he tossed it in the hamper. I actually had thought it was a present for me. ” Her voice had dropped in volume, her head shaking as she exhaled all the oxygen from her lungs and took a quick glance at the necklace again. Your stomach felt like it dropped, like it had been filled with cement and was too heavy to stay put, an irrational sense of guilt crawling up your spine from the look on her face. She looked wounded and confused, wistful but unaware of what she wanted to say, mouth opening and closing twice before she finally spoke. “Is something going on between the two of you?”

“What?” You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, surprised by her rather upfront question, and judging by the way her eyes widened momentarily she must not have meant to be so forward. She cleared her throat, pursing her lips and exhaling heavily as she looked out the windows again, your fingers curling into your palms to close into tight fists to hide how they were shaking.

“Do you like Todoroki?”

“Sorry about that.” Todoroki’s rush back into room cut off anything you would have said, lips parted and pulse pounding in your eardrums as you took a step back towards the door. It felt like you’d been caught red handed doing something you shouldn’t, like you were a little kid with their hands shoved into the cookie jar before dinner. Todoroki’s palm landed on your back as you stumbled slightly into him, his eyebrows raised when he focused down on you, hair falling onto his forehead like he’d just combed his fingers through it. “You okay?”

“I have to go.” The words tumbled out as you stepped away from the warmth of his palm, ignoring his fingers as they tried to grasp onto your wrist, clearly confused as to why you were hurrying out. You could feel Momo staring at the pair of you, could sense Todoroki’s apprehension to just let you run off so clearly bothered. You knew he wouldn’t follow you, not with Momo there, his soulmate, with her perfect packed lunch for him waiting on his table top.

It was like you were in a haze, barely anything registering in your eardrums as you walked back into your office, sitting down to riffle through the papers waiting for you on the desk, eyes moving over the words but not reading them. You couldn’t feel anything besides the pounding in your chest, the force so strong it felt like it might burst through your ribcage and fall onto your keyboard.

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to handle the situation or the question she’d thrown at you. What would she do if she found out you were in love with her soulmate? Would she keep him away from you and cut off the thing you cared about most. Did she know for a fact you liked Todoroki or was she just insecure? Was it that painfully obvious you were completely in love with him? If she knew you liked Todoroki, than did he know? It felt like the room was spinning and no one else could notice but you, like the walls were caving in and on them was written all of your secrets, ready to swallow you whole.

All the worst case scenarios were flooding into your conscious and making your eyes burn, eyes squeezing shut, the paper fluttering between your fingers as your hands slightly shook from your nerves. It felt like all your emotions had skyrocketed and you didn’t know how to handle it. You simultaneously wanted to call Todoroki to listen to him talk until you calmed down and wanted to run as far away from him as possible, wanted to lock yourself in a room where no one could see you anymore. It was all too much for you to deal with alone but was too heavy of a secret to spill on anyone else.

Who exactly could you tell that you were madly in love with your closest friend and his soulmate had perhaps figured that out?

Who could you tell that your world felt like it was about to fall apart?

Sometimes when you were thinking too much your eyes stopped focusing, the world becoming fuzzy as all your attention poured into daydreams rather than what was right in front of you. It felt like a filter, like you’d applied a blur to the colors coming from your laptop, barely registering the sounds of laughter pouring from the speakers. You could fall into a fog when you were like that, could get so distracted away from the world around you with a few dazed blinks at nothing in particular. It always seemed to happen when you had the most on your mind, the loss of focus, your quiet breathing the background noise to the scenarios running through your mind.

Right now those scenarios were all about Todoroki.

You’d been thinking about what Momo said all afternoon, that alone enough to make a wave of panic ripple through your gut. She’d looked so distant, so unreadable but somehow intimidating, like she had your entire world in her palms and didn’t realize it yet. You questioned how long she’d been thinking about it, if finding the necklace from Todoroki was what spurred her self doubt or if she’d known from the first time she answered his phone for him and found you on the other end. You wondered if it poured out of you so visibly that everyone knew but just hadn’t had the heart to shut you down, that you were a silent laughing stock to the haves, the only have not there seemed to be who didn’t know their place.

Your lungs deflated as your lids fell shut, feet shuffling beneath the blanket covering your legs, the sounds of the stupid action film playing on your laptop coming to a stop when you blindly reached out and smacked at the keyboard. The enveloping silence was both too quiet and too loud, letting your thoughts run rampant until they were so aggressive they felt like blood chilling screams. You didn’t know what to do or where to go now, you didn’t know how to handle a situation that hadn’t even happened yet. There were too many what ifs, too many possibilities for how Momo’s question came about and too many options for how bad the outcome from it would be.

You’d never imagined loving someone would be so messy when you were growing up, always idolizing that passion for another human being as something almost magical, something otherworldly. Everyone made it seem like once you found it nothing else would matter, that the world would stop being so loud until all you could feel was that love in your chest. No one told you how bitter it would be, how acrid the taste in your mouth would be watching the person you loved be with someone else. No one took the time to sit you down and tell you maybe things wouldn’t work out how you wanted, no one set you aside and traced the gold on your palm to warn you maybe you wouldn’t be as lucky as everyone else.

No one told you back then that maybe you’d be alone now.

No one told you that love was only magical when someone was loving you back.

The buzzing beside your thigh made your lids flutter open, the fuzzy light still coming from your computer painting your legs the color of a blue sky. You squinted at your cell phone, blinking rapidly as Todoroki’s name came into focus flashing across the front. He’d texted you a few times since you rushed off so suddenly earlier, always able to tell when something was bothering you even when you wouldn’t admit it. He had a way of knowing things about you before you knew them yourself, always noticing little quirks and habits that he’d point out before you realized you even had them. He knew you better than you did and at times it made it harder to ignore how strongly you felt for him, made it scarier to imagine moving far enough away you wouldn’t see his face everyday.

Part of you was tempted to let it ring, to ignore his voice just a little longer, to try and peel yourself away from the strong hold he had on you without even realizing it. You didn’t know if he’d talked to Momo, if she told him her suspicions and was now just calling to let you down easy, didn’t know if he was calling to tell you he couldn’t be around you anymore because it caused her discomfort. You didn’t know if you could listen to him reject you, didn’t think you could handle how crestfallen you’d be if he quietly whispered that he couldn’t see you again. You didn’t know what you’d do if your worse case scenario was true and Todoroki was about to be ripped away from you, but the stronger part of your will power was desperate to hear his voice ringing in your ear drum, regardless of the words coming from his parted lips.

“Hello?”

“Thank gosh, I was starting to get worried.” His relieved sigh made your lips tug slightly up into a smile on your cheeks, picturing the way his hand was probably tugging through his hair in his bedroom, his legs folded up like a little kid. “You weren’t texting me back all afternoon.”

“Sorry, I was just sort of out of it.” Your lips pressed into a thin line as you leaned back in your bed, palm resting flat on your stomach, the huge t-shirt that was serving as a pajama top bunching around your waist. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s alright.” He hummed for a moment, ears picking up on the sound of his bedroom window being pulled shut, before he let out a heavy puff of air, presumably moving to sit back down on his oversized bed. You wondered if he was alone in it, gut churning picturing Momo there beside him, nerves swelling with the unknown of where this conversation was going. “You just rushed out so fast earlier I thought I’d done something. You don’t usually ignore my texts and I guess I just thought the worst.”

His faint chuckle at his own worry made your chest ache, eyes squeezing shut in relief that Momo hadn’t said anything to him, or at least if she hadn’t he didn’t seem to be taking it to heart. You still felt apprehensive, shaken up, like you were on the edge of a cliff and unsure of how good your balance was anymore. It was soothing to hear his voice nonetheless once you got over the initial panic, swallowing hard to get down the rock formed in your esophagus before you spoke.

“You worry too much, Todoroki.”

“Only about you.” The laugh that followed the syllables made your lungs feel empty of oxygen, body rolling onto its side and face nuzzling slightly in the pillow. If you closed your eyes tight enough you could almost imagine it was Todoroki’s chest you were burying yourself against, could almost smell his cologne you’d memorized the scent of long ago. It was like you were intoxicated and the only think you’d ever tasted was him, like was your drug of choice and biggest addiction, one you didn’t want to worry about the consequences from. “I can’t stand when you’re mad at me. “

“I’m hardly ever mad at you.”

“Remember that time I broke your coffee table and you didn’t talk to me for a week?”

It was so easy to fall back into him, so easy to let the conversation flow naturally into your eardrums with him giggling through the phone and rambling everytime you responded. It was simple, loving him, when the rest of the world was quiet. It was easier to love him from afar, through the safety of a phone where you could hang up and close yourself back off once it was over. It was more difficult to hide the stares when you were in front of him, harder to swallow back the praises you wanted to shout at him, to stop yourself from grabbing his hand and never letting go. When you were apart you could pretend everything was fine, you could close your eyes and imagine your soulmarks matched, that he was yours and he was close enough for you to touch. When you were in front of him you were reminded of everything you didn’t have, reminded every time you saw his palm that he already had his someone and it wasn’t you.

He made things feel easy, made the rhythm of you talking feel easy over the time that passed with him speaking to you through the phone. He chipped away at your unease and put a fog over the worries that had been burning into your brain, if only temporarily. His chatter about his afternoon and tangents about things you already knew were enough to make everything feel warmer, more gentle. He knew how to get to the deepest parts of you and brighten them, knew how to pull you from your own thoughts without much effort, in a way that you could only hope you did for him as well.

“I wish I was there right now.” His heavy sigh made you swallow, rolling onto your back as you took a peek at the alarm on your bedside table, reading the blinking red numbers with a muted yawn. You ignored the fluttering in your stomach at the idea, picturing him momentarily there in bed beside you, imagining how incredible he’d look with his hair all fused up and his chest rising and falling like the rhythm of a slow ballad.

“I’m sure Momo will be back soon from her parents, it’s not like you’ll be home alone that much longer.” Her name sounded foreign coming from your tongue but you tried to ignore it, arching your back and moving your legs as you tried to pry the blanket up from underneath you, slipping it over your body soon after. It was soft, like the texture of a those giant teddy bears people got for valentines day, the same color of the sun the sky had been wearing that morning.

“She probably will, but that wasn’t what I meant.”

You paused momentarily as his words floated through the phone, unsure of what to say to that, not positive what exactly he meant. It made your pulse quicken, pounding in your fingertips and eardrums like you’d just run a marathon in the middle of summer. He seemed to be contemplating how to continue, judging from the deep breathe you heard him suck in before he spoke again, voice somehow more gentle than before.

“I wish I was there in your bed, in your apartment, with you.” He paused and cleared his throat slightly, the sound of him flopping onto his pillows melding with the car honking as it drove by down below on the street. “I miss you.”

“You saw me a few hours ago.” You laughed faintly, heart in your throat and pounding so violently it was hard to breathe, something about his tone and choice of words feeling more intimate than you were used to with him. Suddenly the phone didn’t feel like it was giving you much distance from him, felt like it was making you more vulnerable without seeing his face to try and work out what was going on inside his head.

“I don’t care, I miss you.” His voice dropped in volume, your lids falling shut as you took a heavy breathe, one that felt like it wasn’t enough oxygen even with your lungs swelled like close-to-popping balloons. “I miss your laugh and your smile and that look you get when you stare out the window too long and forget what we were talking about. I love when you do that, have I ever mentioned that to you? I love when you get all embarrassed or angry and try to act like you were listening to a single thing I said.”

“What are you doing, Todoroki?”

“I love your soulmark too. I know you hate talking about it and hate seeing it even more but it’s so beautiful. It’s the prettiest shade of gold, it reminds me of what the sun looks like right before it sets.” He ignored the slight wave to your voice as his kept getting softer through his rambles, your hands shaking as you used one to grip the blanket around your waist. It felt like the room was spinning, like your brain couldn’t keep up with the things tumbling past his lips. “Sometimes I wish mine looked like that. Sometimes I wonder how different things would be if mine matched yours.”

You nearly dropped the phone, your lips pressing into a thin line to stop yourself from saying anything. Your eyes burned as you squeezed them shut, trying not to make a sound as you let the words replay in your head, fingers shaking as you gripped the blanket tighter. It was something you’d thought about a lot as well, about how desperately you wished your marks matched, about how different things would be if he was your soulmate. It was almost strange to hear him saying it, like you were daydreaming rather than being awake, like your dream had come a reality but was laced with a nightmare.

“I was so disappointed that day in the park, when I ran into you and I saw your palm when you went to brush off your sweater. Fuck my stomach just sank to my feet, like someone kicked me in the chest and tried to bash my ribcage in.” His bitter laugh sounded thick, too loud for how mutely he was speaking, your teeth clamping down onto your bottom lip in an attempt to stop yourself from letting him know there were stray tears slipping down your temples onto your cotton pillowcase. “I never hated my own soulmark before that, I never wanted so badly for it to go away or be someone else’s instead. ”

“Don’t say things like that.” Your voice shook as you interjected him, sniffling once as you shook your head reverently on the bed, the room feeling too small, the air too hot, heart still like a drumbeat in your eardrums.

“I wanted it to be you so bad.”

You didn’t bother hiding the quiet cry that fell from your lips as you rolled over onto your side and pressed your cheek into the damp pillow, muscles too tight from how hard you were trying to hold yourself together. It felt right and wrong, it sounded like heaven and hell, hearing him tell you how damn much he wanted you to be his one, because it was what you wanted all along. You’d always wanted Todoroki, you’d wanted him since that day in the park and him finding a soulmate hadn’t changed that.

But even if he meant the words past his somewhat tired and rambling state of speaking out loud it didn’t matter. Even if he was as in love with you as you were with him, the two of you could never happen, it was never and would never be allowed. Todoroki had a soulmate, and by law he had to be with her. You would never be allowed to touch his skin or kiss his lips, you’d never get permission to marry him someday or fall in love with the eyes of the world watching you. You could never have Todoroki, even if somehow what he was saying held as much weight as it felt like it did. Even if you both loved eachother, you couldn’t be in love, and that was what crushed you the most.

“Todoroki?” You could faintly make out the sound of Momo’s voice as she called out in the background, cutting off Todoroki as he cleared his throat to say something else, your eyes snapping open, like someone had woken you up from a too deep sleep. Without thinking you pulled the phone from your ear, hitting end and tossing it away to the end of the bed, like it’d been on fire and you’d only now realized.

Everything felt twisted now, more confusing than before, because Todoroki had never said anything like that to you. He’d never brought up that day you two met in the park, never said that he’d felt as stopped in his tracks as you had been. He never told you that he wished his palm looked like yours, never informed you of how angry it made him that you didn’t match, how much he hated his own palm after seeing yours.

Todoroki had a soulmate, he had Momo, and he was supposed to be with her, but the words that had tumbled from his lips felt like ones he’d been stopping himself from saying for a long time. He sounded lost, confused, desperate for someone or something to give him a sign on what he was supposed to do, what all the things he’d bottled up meant. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to handle the world piling all of this onto you, onto your already fragile heart and weaning self acceptance. You didn’t know how you were supposed to stop yourself from loving someone when he was making you feel like somewhere in the back of his mind, he loved you back.

Your hands rose, covering the entirety of your face as you cried quietly into them, chest shaking as you choked on the air you tried to get down, everything feeling like too much once again. You were exhausted and wide awake simultaneously, desperate to sleep but scared of what you’d dream. You didn’t know didn’t know what was the right thing to do and what was the wrong, and weren’t sure which path you even wanted to take. You felt like the world had swallowed you whole, like you were thrown down a pit and left to figure out how to pull yourself free.

There in your bedroom with his whisper of how much he’d wished you’d been made for him replaying in your head, you had never felt more confused.

[previous chapter] - [next chapter]

#todoroki shouto #shouto #todoroki #todoroki x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #milk and tea fic #todoroki fluff #todoroki angst #todoroki smut

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years

Text

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,919 Words

Summary: A new friend moves into the dorm.

Warnings: Death Mention, Abandonment Mention, Orphan Mention, Disownment, Cursing, Injury Mention, Blood Mention, Caps, Food Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20, Yamada: President Megaphone, Bakugou: deku-deck-you

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 5

6:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

President Megaphone: Alright, you might have noticed dorm 10 is occupied this morning. You guys are getting another fellow dormmate.

gay salt: mon dieu. Who?

President Megaphone has added Bakugou

Bakugou: Hi, I guess.

farmer toshi has changed Bakugou's name to deku deck-you

deku deck-you: I'd kill you if you didn't risk your life for my teacher.

farmer toshi: Come kill me then, coward.

deku deck-you: No, I'm too tired.

schrodinger better run: Hey, Baku, what's your tragic backstory?

deku deck-you: What?

foil-mecha: Well, about 60% of us in here have a tragic backstory for being in the dorms. Monoma's mother abandoned him in Japan, Hagakure and Shinsou are orphans, Kuroiro's parents hate her, and Honenuki's been disowned. Me and Shiozaki are only here because our commute to and from school would have been horrible and Tsunotori and Aoyama are exchange students.

deku deck-you: It's stupid. I don't want you to think I'm pathetic.

gay salt: If anyone makes fun of you, I'll personally kick in the teeth. Besides Shinsou, he gets a free pass only because his teeth are already fucked this week with wires.

deku deck-you: Well, my old hag mother wanted me to drop from UA because it's too dangerous for her liking but I wouldn't do it so she kicked me out and disowned me. She beat me pretty bad, ended up breaking my right kneecap and left a bunch of deep cuts on my arms and almost severed my arteries in my wrists with some glass from a vase she broke before she threw me out of the house.

deku deck-you: I'd have used my quirk on her if it wouldn't be considered unwilling quirk usage against a civilian and, with my quirk, I'd be put in jail for how dangerous me using it in a fight could be, especially if she claimed I hurt her. I can't even go to class this morning because she threw my blood on my UA uniform so I wouldn't go back.

farmer toshi: Can't say it'll completely fit you, but my uniform is clean in room 6 in the top drawer of my dresser. Use mine for today since I'm not allowed to go to school today still. I threw up last night so I'm being held yet again for observation.

deku deck-you: Thank you. Who all is even here?

ranch flavored jello: Oh yeah, introductions. You weren't here for them.

ranch flavored jello has quoted 21 messages

Aizawa: Shouta, he/him, I'm gay, married, depressed

Shinsou: Hitoshi, he/him, I'm gay

Monoma: Seiko, she/they/he, pansexual/genderfluid, if you have a crush on me, you're some kind of gay

Hagakure: Toru, she/her, lesbian

Aoyama: Akemi, she/they, trans mtf/lesbian

Tsunotori: Pony, she/her, lesbian

Shiozaki: Ibara, they/them, asexual/agender/aromantic

Kuroiro: Kageya, she/her, trans mtf/bi

Tokoyami: Fumikage, he/him, trans ftm/bi

Honenuki: Juzo, she/her?, bi

Kuroiro: Ah yes, our girl, Honenuki Kiyomi.

Shinsou has changed Aizawa's name to feral cat dad

Shinsou has changed Aoyama's name to gay salt

Shinsou has changed Hagakure's name to ranch flavored jello

Shinsou has changed Tokoyami's name to foil-mecha

Shinsou has changed Kuroiro's name to life is a nightmare

Shinsou has changed Shiozaki's name to saviour

Shinsou has changed Tsunotori's name to schrodinger better run

Shinsou has changed Honenuki's name to pure

Shinsou has changed Monoma's name to nat20

feral cat dad has changed Shinsou's name to farmer toshi

deku deck-you: Well, I'm pansexual, he/him, trans ftm, just please don't call me Bakugou anymore, I don't want that hag's surname.

feral cat dad: I'll fight your mother, don't tempt me.

feral cat dad: Also how about Aizawa Katsuki?

deku deck-you: I'm going to start crying.

nat20: Looks like Mr. Aizawa is adopting another kid with bad parents.

President Megaphone: Yeah, I'll get the paperwork on the UA twelve hour adoption from custody transfer.

deku deck-you: Oh my god, I can't believe this is really happening.

farmer toshi: I'd kill a transphobe for my brother, your honor.

deku deck-you: I have a family? Really? A real family that won't hurt me?

President Megaphone: As your uncle, I assure you, nobody here will hurt you.

feral cat dad: Katsuki, I would never hurt my son.

farmer toshi: Yeah, dude, I wouldn't hurt you, ever.

ranch flavored jello: I have a brother! I wanna paint your nails!

deku deck-you: I don't think I've ever been happier in my life.

farmer toshi: I'm glad you're happy, Katsuki.

deku deck-you: You're all so nice, thank you.

gay salt: We'd be nice to you regardless, Kats. We're happy to help you whilst you're settling in and finally getting to feel safe. We're proud of you for being brave enough to reach out for help when you needed it.

deku deck-you: I need to get dressed before y'all keep making me cry.

deku deck-you is now offline

7:50 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: katsukiinhisschooluniformwithorangehair.jpg

deku deck-you: Toru helped me because my arms still hurt a lot when I grab things.

ranch flavored jello: My boy, Katsuki, looks like a god.

deku deck-you: I finally don't look like my mother anymore.

farmer toshi: I'll punt kick her for you, bro.

deku deck-you: Don't make me cry.

ranch flavored jello: Get to class, Kats. I'm waiting for you.

deku deck-you is now offline

8:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

ranch flavored jello: katsukisnewhair.vid

Video Transcript

Oh my god, Kacchan? -Unknown

Let me fucking explain maybe before you all just gang up on me and make me even more uncomfortable. -deku deck-you

My hag mom threw me out because I wouldn't drop from the Hero Course because it's too 'dangerous' for her liking now. So I'm living in the dorms, if you make fun of my hair, I'll have to kill you because Toru worked hard to make it look good on a time constraint -deku deck-you

I think it looks really good, Kacchan! - Unknown

I will still deck you, Deku, you damn nerd. -deku deck-you

[the camera shows that Katsuki is actually happy and smiling at Midoriya and he's being hugged by Aoyama as Aizawa comes into the room bandaged to the point of looking like a Halloween mummy decoration]

Transcript End

President Megaphone: God fucking dammit, Shouta!

farmer toshi: DAD!

ranch flavored jello: What's wrong?

President Megaphone: He wasn't supposed to start teaching again yet since he's still too injured for Recovery Girl's quirk to work on him.

gay salt: Don't worry, us dorm kids will make sure he doesn't do anything too dangerous.

President Megaphone: Fine, I guess.

3:15 PM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: I'm officially going back in the dorms, Aunt Nemuri came and got me. They knocked my hold down to twelve hours since I threw up since I haven't had anymore nausea or vomiting.

farmer toshi: My stubborn ass is at the store before I go home, do you guys need anything?

President Megaphone: Make sure you pick yourself up things that are liquid for the next couple days while you're on the mend before Recovery Girl can heal you.

farmer toshi: That's the plan. I've already procured blueberry yogurt drinks and silken tofu and soft ice cream and jellies and stuff. I wanted to know before I check out if anyone else needs anything.

gay salt: Yeah, grab me some boiled octopus and crab sticks if you can. I'm craving them.

foil-mecha: jagariko please, whichever one you find.

ranch flavored jello: Enoki, a bunch of them, and thick white bread.

feral cat dad: Just grab some extra jellies.

life is a nightmare: ham, bean sprouts, tofu, and eggs.

pure: Tofu and spam.

schrodinger better run: Milk, bacon, and eggs for my breakfast tomorrow.

nat20: cheese sausages and kimchi ramen, please.

saviour: Just tofu and edamame.

President Megaphone: aloe yoghurt.

farmer toshi: Got it. I'll be home in like a half hour. Be waiting for your groceries.

8:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

schrodinger better run: @everyone I've made everyone breakfast! Even you, Shinsou and Mr. Aizawa. I made you two's food liquid for you.

schrodinger better run: Breakfast is eggs, pancakes, bacon, and tofu. I made the pancakes vegan friendly and I tried really hard to make the tofu like sausage for Toru and Ibara!

saviour: Thank you, Pony, I'm sure it'll be good no matter what.

ranch flavored jello: Thanks Pony, you're the best.

schrodinger better run: No problem!

schrodinger better run: And for Mr. Aizawa and Shinsou, I made you two your smoothie bags and some of the juice I made for you!

farmer toshi: Which ones?

schrodinger better run: For you, the vanilla coconut, chocolate peanut butter jelly, and guava orange juice. For Mr. Aizawa, spinach peanut butter banana, citrus berry, and guava orange juice.

feral cat dad: Thank you, pony.

feral cat dad: No, capitalize pony.

feral cat dad: Fucking speech to text.

feral cat dad: Pony. There we go.

schrodinger better run: Love you, Mr. Aizawa.

feral cat dad: Love you too, kid.

2:30 PM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Katsuki, Recovery Girl says she can likely heal you now that you're feeling better.

deku deck-you: Yeah, sure.

3:45 PM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: You feel okay, Kats?

deku deck-you: Yeah, just tired. I'm gonna take a nap. Wake me up for dinner.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:45 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Jeez, you get up early. I'll try to run with you tomorrow.

deku deck-you: I'm good running alone, Shinsou.

farmer toshi: Oh, okay.

deku deck-you: I mean, if you wanna, then go ahead, but I know you don't sleep well. Plus you have to rest up so Recovery Girl can heal you.

farmer toshi: I know, but I also know it sucks to run alone sometimes.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Shoot, I slept past my alarms.

deku deck-you: It's fine. As long as you're getting sleep, you don't have to run with me, Shinsou.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Fucking alarms weren't set.

deku deck-you: You needed the sleep, Shinsou. You were up late.

farmer toshi: Fine. But I'll catch you one of these mornings.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

6:15 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: I'm getting closer, you early bastard.

deku deck-you: Keep thinking that, Shinsou.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

5:55 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Now you're taunting me.

deku deck-you: You wish. I'm just good at waking up early.

5:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: I'm going out for a run.

5:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: I JUST MISSED YOU!

farmer toshi: Get back here little bastard!

deku deck-you: shinsousprintingafterhim.jpg

life is a nightmare: What a wholesome ending.

deku deck-you: shinsoufellonme.jpg

President Michael: You good, kids?

deku deck-you: Yeah, we're good. My knee is a little achy but I'll be fine.

farmer toshi: Don't worry, I'll force him back if he's hurt, Uncle Zashi.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yamada hizashi #aoyama yuuga #katsuki bakugou #shinsou hitoshi #fumikage tokoyami #hagakure tooru #aizawa shouta #monoma neito #kuroiro shihai #juzo honenuki #pony tsunotori #ibara shiozaki #snoweywrites #aizawa we agreed no more cats au #tw death mention

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