Ups and Downs
master list
dark master list
Slight MCU AU (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)
Summary: Your neighbor across the hall isn't anything like you thought she'd be.
Word Count: 3.5K
TW: Men, Guns, Violence, Bad Flirting
Your life has always been a series of ups and downs.
After graduating from university, your life took a turn. Some would say for better. Some would say for worse.
You got the dream job you wanted! But it took you to a brand new country away from everyone you knew.
Your girlfriend, who you planned to propose to, was happy for you! But she wasn't happy enough to stay.
You got a cat! A pet you always wanted! But it turns out it wasn't a stray. It was your neighbor's cat who loved to wander the streets.
So yeah. These last six months haven't been your brightest time. But you tried to be a glass-half-empty person: greener pastures and all that jazz.
So when your neighbor with the whore of a cat moved out, you were determined to become friends with whoever moved in.
Oh yeah, you also needed friends...
So the day you were walking up the stairs to your apartment and, a redhead you've never seen before whizzed by you. You got excited! But before you could even open your mouth, they were gone.
Okay. They're speedy, you noted. You'll catch 'em next time.
Except you didn't. Because unbeknownst to you, the redhead didn't just get home late. They got back home past 4 in the morning. Hair flowing in different directions. Her leather jacket scuffed up as if she was in a bar fight. The bruises on her face would give that impression, too. Plus, she was quiet.
So quiet that you failed to notice that the redhead had been living in her new home for three days prior.
She would roll her eyes at that word. Home. Sure, the apartment was very nice. Had all the parts she needed. But she didn't care where she was stashed as long as she got the job done. Plus, home wasn't a word for her. It never existed in her eyes.
Well, maybe once, but.. never mind.
"Clint, I got the intel, but I'm gonna need a few more days." Your neighbor spoke into her flip phone with such conviction. "Look, the guys I'm tracking can lead to something bigger. Just give me a few more days. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. I'll be waiting for his call." She threw her phone down onto the round wooden dining room table before bending back into the uncomfortable chair.
She knew she should get up. Go take a hot shower. Bandage up her knuckles and tend to her bruises. But with each blink happening in rapid succession. The redhead fell asleep while sitting upright in a chair that her back would curse for years to come.
Across the hall, hours later, you had already gone on your Saturday walk, had your breakfast, showered, and not so subtly waited for any signs of life coming from the woman you saw once. Was it weird? Maybe. Maybe yes. But even you would admit you were desperate for a friend. Or anybody who wasn't stuck in a screen when you wanted to talk. Plus, she was pretty. Or so you think. She had a cap on and dark glasses when you saw her yesterday, but her jacket looked incredible, and she had cute pink lips.
Not that you noticed!!
So, with it creeping closer to early afternoon, you decided to take the initiative. Standing here in front of her door, you were about to knock when a voice stopped you. "Excuse me." Turning to your right, you were met with a tall, broad, shouldered man. Black hair. Dressed in black. The vibe you were feeling wasn't right. Back in the States, you would guess he worked for the mob. "Yes?" You asked, looking him up and down.
"Sorry to bother you. But I'm having trouble finding my friend. She says she lives in this building, but I can't seem to find her. About this tall." He raises his hands just past your head. "Red hair." Oh shit. "She has a if looks could kill kinda attitude as well." He forces out a chuckle you know to be fake. But you fake laugh with him. Afraid of what will happen if he knows you've seen her or if he finds her.
"Wow, she sounds like quite the character. But no, I'm sorry, I haven't seen anyone like that here." You lie through your teeth. Something you don't like to do, but you're just hoping he doesn't notice. "Oh really?" The man's face turns from a fake smile to a fake frown. "Yeah, I'm really sorry." You shrug. You think that'll be it too. Thinking the man will leave with a simple no, I don't know her. But he's a man. They take no for an answer.
"Are you sure? Because I thought maybe this was her place?" He points to the door you're both in front of. You look from his eyes to the door. Shit. Think! "Oh no." You shake your head. "I mean, unless your friend turned into an old woman with a tabby cat who has a knack for playing gin rummy every Tuesday night, then I don't think so. The woman plays cards, not that cat! Although maybe we could teach him-"
"Okay, sorry to bother you." Without another question or look from the man, he turns his back to you and starts walking down the stairs. Frustrated with the answer you gave. Quietly, you move closer to the banister as he descends, hoping he'll prove his real intentions for being here. To your surprise, he does when he reaches the bottom floor.
"Yeah, I checked. She's not here, but..." His voice fades out as you faintly hear the doors to your building open and close. Turning around now, you have a different mindset about the woman across the hall. Before, you were simply going to ask if they had any allergies you needed to know about. Because you planned on making them homemade bread. Banana, to be specific. Well, if she could eat it. But now that was the last thing on your mind. When you looked at the door now, you can't help but feel bad for how much trouble she seems to be in. Taking a few steps closer, you ready yourself to knock on it again. Hoping to find answers.
"Okay, knock in 3..2..." Before you can even process 1, the door opens, and you get pulled into the room with a force you've never felt. Firm hands grip themselves to your arm before turning your body around in a flash so they have a hold around your waist. Keeping your face away from seeing them. You feel her body against yours, quickly short-circuiting your brain before the loud slam of the front door snaps you out of your thoughts.
Scanning the room around as quickly as possible while your neighbor holds you tight from moving, you see things you've never seen before. Files spread across the room in another language—a sniper positioned in the window and lots and lots of spy stuff.
Shit. Shit! This woman was dangerous.
"кто ты?" (Who are you?) The same woman barks, making your eyes go wide at the foreign language used and how lovely her raspy voice sounds. "кто ты!?" She barks again before pushing the backs of your knees out from under you so you fall to the floor. Arms pinned behind you. Fuck that's really going to hurt tomorrow, you think. Wait, if there is a tomorrow!
You rack your brain, trying to think of what she could be saying and what proper response would be beneficial for this particular moment, but your mind keeps getting distracted as the roaming hands of the woman keep touching you.
The redhead above you didn't get a good look before pulling you in, or she would see that there is no way you could be a threat. "Šíření!" (Spread!) She tries a different language, Czech, to be exact. Yet you still don't know it. You don't know any other language aside from English and the little bit of Hungarian you've been learning since you moved.
So her order for you to spread goes right over your head. Maybe if she asked nicely in English, you've complied...
"Oh my god, what are you doing?" You ask as the grip tightens around your wrists and the feeling of her fingers slides along your thighs. But you get nothing in return, only frustrated grunts from the woman holding you down, finding nothing on your person.
"Please, I'm sorry. Just let me go, and I'll pretend I didn't see anything or that I didn't enjoy-"
"Shut up!" Finally! English! She speaks it! "Ow! Fuck! You speak English?!"
"Who are you? What do you want?" Her fingers run through your hair, digging into your scalp before she grabs hold and lifts your head up. "Answer me!"
Remember what I said? Ups and downs.
"I'm sorry. Shit. I- I'm just your neighbor from across the h-hall.. fuck.." The small moan that escaped your mouth could've been mistaken for a groan of pain caused by the redhead.
But Natasha Romanoff knew better.
She knew exactly what that noise that left your mouth meant. Which also confirmed what she was thinking. You weren't a threat.
She loosened her grip on your hair but kept tight around your wrists. "Name? Give me a name." Her tone is softer and not as harsh.
"Mine?" You asked, confused by the whole situation. "Obviously." The spy rolled her eyes but had to hide the smirk, forcing its way onto her mouth.
"Y/N Y/L/N!" You answered honestly. Natasha could tell it was honest, too. Your rapid pulse she had her fingers pressed against didn't waver anymore than it already had by the older woman being on top of you. "And no one sent you?"
She began to loosen the grip she had on you as a whole.
"What?! No one sent me to check up on my neighbor. But Goddamn, this is the last time I'll do that." Natasha thought for a minute as your breathing began to calm down. "KGB? Hydra? MI6? Ring any bells?"
"No, I swear." Natasha thinks again. "Okay." Her voice goes back to a normal volume. One you find delightful even in this particular situation. "I'm going to let you go. Don't do anything stupid." She warns with a smile.
"Okay. I'll try not to." You say knowing you were prone to have stupid things happen to you. "Just please don't hurt me." You mumbled, but Natasha doesn't respond. Instead, she lifts herself off your body, removes her hand from your hair, and lets go of your wrist, which will completely have bruises tomorrow.
Once you feel the air touch your skin again, you crawl a few feet away before turning over.
You like to think that the first thing you laid your eyes on was the redheads apologetic smile, but it wasn't. It was her green eyes. You swear you had never seen anything more beautiful until you looked down the rest of her body. "You're beautiful." You let slip. Surprising the woman staring back at you.
Except she wasn't stupid. Instead of opening her mouth, Natasha kept those those words on the inside.
You're beautiful.
"Oh my God, ignore that. I'm sorry! Does that count as a stupid thing?!" You panicked, only earning a tight smirk from the redhead. "I'll let that one slide." She gets up and walks past you. Leaving you on the floor. "Besides, you're not so bad yourself."
You're brain short circuits for the second time in the last five minutes. Pretty spy dangerous lady called me beautiful?! You couldn't muster any more thoughts, so instead, you turn your gaze to the woman, watching her as she starts packing up. "What are you doing?"
"Packing."
"Why you just got here? Plus, what was that whole thing? Attacking me? Hello?" Natasha stops packing and looks at you. "No one is supposed to know I'm here. Within three days, I've been comprised by my neighbor from across the hall. I can't take the risk." Natasha says point blank while effortlessly avoiding your other questions.
You're not sure how to respond to that. But you know that you should probably get up off the floor. So you do that as the woman goes back to packing. She starts with clothes before moving on to guns. Lots of guns. "Whoa."
You take in all that you're seeing. "Who are you..." You felt the need to ask the unaskable question. "A person you shouldn't try and fuck with." She answers without any sense that she's joking until she winks at you.
Oh, you wanted to moan all over again.
"Should I leave?" You say to disrupt her and the growing silence. "Not yet. I still need answers from you. And to make sure that if you're ever asked. You never saw me." You nod, following along to her words. "Okay." You take a step forward, thinking it'd be a stupid thing to take a step back towards the door.
"Good." She says before dialing someone with a phone, you haven't seen in years. "Go secure. I need a cross reference on the person occupying the apartment across the hall from me. Give me everything. Bank records. Death certificates. Occupation. Everything. You have five." She flips the phone closed and sets it down before her eyes lock on you.
"I need you to sit in this chair for me." She pulls out the chair directly in front of her and her belongings. You would typically agree what, given the situation and the sight of her left hand on the grip of a pistol. But instead: "No."
"What did I say about doing something stupid." The woman groans, making you smile. Just a little over the tiny amount of control you have at the moment. "I'm not sitting on the chair until you give me your name. And the reason."
"You do realize I'm the one holding the gun, right?" You nod. Terrified of guns, but you nod as she waves it in front of you. "I do. But you're not going to shoot me or anything because, from what I just heard. You're waiting on your friend to see if I'm telling the truth, but I have no reason to lie to you."
Natasha couldn't believe what she just heard out of the mouth of that sweet little face. Here's the kicker. You're right. Natasha honestly hates that you have the upper hand at the moment, but Natasha's the Black Widow. She can flip the script as easy as one.. two.. "Please. Be a good girl and get in the chair."
You've never sat in a chair so fast in your life.
In fact, the second your butt hit the wood, you were mentally cursing your legs for betraying you. "How did you do that?!" You looked to her green eyes for an answer, but you both knew. "Alright, fine. Can I at least get a name?" You huffed as she gently handcuffed your hand to hers.
"Natalie." She replied as if that was her real name. But you took it for face value, even throwing Natasha a "thank you."
"What's that?" You asked, pointing at a pile of small silver discs. "Oh, don't touch those." She quickly moves them away from your reach. "They'll electrically shock you and leave you incapacitated." Okay. Good to know. "No touch, got it." You dryly chuckled, earning one from the woman who had no issues being handcuffed to you.
"How many languages do you speak?" You figured if you're going to be waiting, you might as well get to know Natalie. "Do you want to guess?" She smirks at you as she puts away her laptop. "Ummm, five?" You look up for an answer but only receive a shake of the head. "More than five?"
"More than 10, dear."
10?! Dear!?!
"Wow." You mutter. "What about you?" Natasha feels the need to ask. Plus, she wants to know more about the young woman she's handcuffed to. "I'm sure you'll find out when your friend calls back."
"Yeah, but I want to hear it from you." You look up to see her already smiling at you, forcing a shade of pink to sneak onto your cheeks. "Umm, it's not nearly as impressive. But one." You meekly answer, earning a chuckle from Natalie. "You're right.. that's not nearly as impressive."
"Hey!" You groan and whine. "It's two on a good day if I can understand what the vendor down the street says. It's not easy learning Hungarian."
Natasha nods. "You're right. It's not easy. But you picked the perfect city to learn it." You have to agree with her.
"You're right. Budapest is wonderful."
"Budapesht." Natasha can't help but correct you. "Huh?" You look to her, who looks down on you like an English teacher. "Budapesht." She repeats. "That's how you should pronounce it." You shake your head
"No. It's Budapest. Your way is wrong."
"No, my way is right. It's Budapesht. You just don't know any better." You scoff, which Natasha takes as a sign to go on the attack. "Oh really?!" She starts. "I'm sorry, but who in the room is the world-class spy, and who is the.. the.. the whatever it is you do!?" She looks at you, who stutters for a moment.
"That's what I thought."
You go to fight back. Which frankly is an unwise move, but you're thankfully interrupted by the sound of the flip phone ringing.
Natasha answers it with urgency. "Clint, you're on speaker; which is it, Budapest or Budapesht??"
"Oh God no. Please stop this. Take me off speaker."
You watch Natalie roll her eyes as she takes the man, Clint, off of speaker. "Okay, shoot your arrow. What have you got for me." Natasha yanks on the handcuff, pulling you to make you look up at her. She holds a finger to her lips with a look in her eyes that you read as "Don't be stupid."
You not as she sets the phone down in the middle of the table on speaker.
"Okay, so Y/N Y/L/N. Born in California. Yadda yadda. Excellent student. Blah, blah, blah. University. Bank is in the green. No sign of trouble. Oh. Is the daughter of two former shield scientists before they lost their lives in a fire. Not Ohio. No Hydra connections either."
Clint quickly adds, confusing you.
What's shield?
"Relationships, let's see... looks like her most recent ex is one Gewn Stacy, and before that it was... Kate Bishop. The second one sounds familiar... Anyways, occupation.. occupation.. Stark Industries. Relocated to where she currently is. Moved into the apartment across from you six months ago. Isn't one to cause trouble. No arrest records or complaints of any kind. I can't find anything else on her. She's clean. Looks like you got a golden retriever living across from you, Nat."
The man finishes up before Natalie or Nat picks the phone up. "Okay, thanks, Clint. Yeah, no, I'm sure she won't be any trouble." Nat looks at you with a smirk, making you shift in your seat.
"Yep. Uh-huh. No. Could you not mention it to Fury? I got it. Okay. No, it's Budapesht. Bye." She clicks the phone shut and looks at you with a smile before laughing. "What?" You ask as you start to smile. "Nothing." She says before she controls her laughter. "No, come on. What!" You plead as Natalie picks up the key to the handcuffs. "It's just... I attacked you earlier because I thought you were dangerous, and here I have handcuffed to me is the most prett- perfect, sweetest person ever, apparently." The pink hue on Nat's cheeks gets missed by you.
You laugh at Natalie's explanation as the cuff slips from your wrist. "Well, I must be scary a little bit. Plus, I think I'm really good at lying!" You fess up. "Not to me, you're not," Nat calls you out. "And you're not scary." She picks up her bag and moves it to the counter to pack her suit.
Now it's your turn to roll your eyes. "Well, I have to be good at one of those things." You say as you get up and follow her around the kitchen and into the living room. "Why is that?" Nat is curious as to what you're answer could be.
"Well, how else would I have gotten rid of that guy earlier?!"
Natasha wasn't expecting that. "What guy?" She turns to you with a stern, calculating look. "Th-the guy. Tall. He was outside your door. Asking about you. I sent him away." Natasha shakes her head and rubs to her bag, grabbing two pistols. "How long ago?"
"What?" You question. Nat runs past you. "How long ago was the guy here?"
"I-uh.." Since Nat's hands and sweet voice were all over and around your body, you truly lost any concept of time.
Nat ignored your non-answer as she looks out the window where her sniper is positioned before turning to you with a worried look.
"Y/N GET DOWN!"
Yeah, there will be a pt2 in the future.
dividers by @/benkeibear
147 notes
·
View notes
Heavenly Promises
Summary: Witness the coming of a new era between Wakanda and Talokan with the matrimony between you and Namor.
Pairing: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x reader
Fandom: Marvel- Black Panther Wakanda Forever
Word Count: 1,227
Warning(s): Fluff, fluff and more fluff :D
A/N: I did a little research on what a Wakandan wedding is supposed to be like and I lifted a little inspiration from T’Challa and Ororo Munroe’s wedding in the comics. You can also see my terrible knowledge about royal stuff ;-;. Also, the language reader speaks is Xhosa. But here is the mini sequel (and final!) to Pulchritudinous Promise that everyone wanted! Enjoy and comments appreciated!
A/N 2: Should I put my header in my fics or nah? I feel it defeats the purpose of putting a pretty gif of the character tho...
To part 1: Pulchritudinous Promises
Taglist: NIL
--------------------------------------------
The cool breeze shook tall, green trees lightly. The sound of leaves rustling combined with waves crashing lightly against the sandy shores were music to [Name]’s ears. She slowly leaned back on the makeshift hammock, feet and back aching. She adjusted the low ends of her sun dress, heaving a tired sigh. A hammock wasn’t the best place to rest but it was the best she had for the moment. Before K’uk’ulkan would come and retrieve her. Nearby, Talokanil and Wakandan warriors stood guard, eyes sharp with weapons in hand, ready to attack any intruders that dared to get close.
[Name]’s eyes glanced up to the tall palm trees shading her from the warm sun. She was thankful for it. Her dress was starting to cling to her damp skin. Her muscles eased, hands clasped together as she gave in. She allowed her mind to drift and it drifted far indeed. Her thoughts brought up past memories, specifically, her coming-together with Talokan’s King.
[Name]’s lips pursed, anxiety clouded her mind as she watched her maidens whizzing around the room, ensuring her wedding wear was ready. Shuri was finishing up on her cap, its colour a shade of black, gold and blue with a splash of emerald green, the material was soft vibranium. She could see herself in the mirror, donning her Black Panther suit. But it was different. It was decorated with emerald green, representing Talokan’s side. She had to admit, it was the perfect addition to her vibranium suit. A maiden brought over her necklace, jewels decorated each chain and a large gem in the middle that sat above her breasts.
A loud sigh left her lips and that took Shuri’s attention away from the cape and to her sister.
“Sister, what’s wrong?” The young princess smoothed out the fur on the cape before approaching the older woman. [Name] looked up at her sister, gloved hand touching the large, green Jade that sat on her chest. “Just nervous,”
“Nervous? Why are you nervous, sister? This is a happy day, a day that will be remembered by our future predecessors,” Shuri pulled a chair, sitting beside [Name].
“I know, Shuri. But this wedding..I’m getting married, Shuri. There is so much I have thought about. Like, how often will I see you and Mother? Or will Wakanda be safe if I’m not around during the six months. Or..What if I can’t be the perfect wife to K’uk’ulkan?” She looked up at Shuri and the young princess had a sympathetic smile on her lips. Shuri took her sister’s hands, clutching it tightly.
“You love him, don’t you?”
[Name] nodded slowly, biting her lower lip.
“And he loves you, sister. I know he does. I have seen the way he looks at you with each visit, sister and I know he loves you. You are the perfect woman for him and an amazing woman entirely. There is nothing to be nervous about and you don’t have to worry about Wakanda. I’m almost completing the Midnight Angels,” Shuri smiled brightly.
A knock came at the door and it squeaked open.
“Princess [Name], Princess Shuri, the ceremony is about to begin,” A runner reminded. Shuri stood, grabbing the cape. The two maidens moved to pick up the long ends of the cape, moving with Shuri as she fastened the cape around her sister’s neck.
[Name] had tears in her eyes, pulling her sister in for a hug as soon as she was done.
“Thank you…Shuri,”
Shuri let out a soft laugh, a growing lump in her throat as she felt hot tears pricked her own eyes.
“Now, let’s get this ceremony completed. I don’t know how long I must wear this dress,” She joked and [Name] laughed lightly.
[Name] could hear loud ceremonial music playing, interchanging between Wakandan and Talokanil. She could see K’uk’ulkan behind the eyes of her Black Panther helm. He was dressed gorgeously in his own ceremonial robes, which shared the colours of Wakanda. His wear was decorated with gold and jade jewels and almost instantly, her worries elevated. She could see Shuri beside Mother, who seemed to be holding back happy tears at the sight of her oldest daughter getting married. Her heart ached a little to see her mother’s tears but she knew it was for a joyful reason.
The ceremony went by like a blur, heavy drums played in the back with both Wakandan and Talokanil dancers moving to the beat. They didn’t need rings to showcase their marriage for their word and ritual was enough to bind both powerful beings together.
The helm retracted and slowly, [Name] looked up to face her new husband. She could hear faintly as the Elder Statesman announced, “Bast has blessed this couple! Pity anyone who would stand in the path of their happiness and their love. Now, let us celebrate this new merging between our two worlds!”
[Name] had both arms around K’uk’ulkan’s neck and the smile he wore on his lips was the biggest she had ever seen. She felt his strong hands snake around her waist, leaning in slowly.
“I am a very happy man, [Name]. My mother would have loved you,”
[Name] flushed darkly, lips pursed. “I know she would. I will love you to the stars beyond,” And the handsome smile that graced the King’s lips grew bigger.
“In yaakunech, in reina,” (I love you, my queen) K’uk’ulkan leaned down, slowly.
[Name] leaned up, lips barely brushing together. She could feel his warm breath fluttering her upper lip and felt her cheeks heat up.
“Ndiyakuthanda nam nkosi yam,” (I love you too, my king)
Their lips met in a deep kiss, surrounding cheers and music got louder but [Name] only focused on her husband and so did he.
K’uk’ulkan had done nothing but show her so much kindness and showered her with love and she did the same. She was welcomed with open arms into Talokan, the people took [Name] in as their new queen. When [Name] was crowned the new Queen of Wakanda, K’uk’ulkan became the royal consort, an honorary King. In her absence, her Mother would lead the kingdom, of course. The six-months agreement still stood but K’uk’ulkan had agreed to ease up that specific agreement.
Aside from that, [Name] could not ask for a better life. She had an island all for herself so she could live on land when she missed it. The island was protected by Wakandans and Talokanil warriors regularly while [Name] stayed in the little house, tending to herself while K’uk’ulkan was away for his own duties. But when he returned, they would always fill their house with love, the final touch to their marriage.
[Name] never stopped thanking Bast for this life she lived.
The sound of waves splashing hard against rocks pulled [Name] out of her trance. She turned her head, watching as K’uk’ulkan left the waters with his spear in hand. The woman smiled widely, carefully leaving her hammock to approach her husband. He leaned in, sharing a sweet kiss with his wife.
His hand moved to [Name]’s engorged belly, thumb caressing lovingly. [Name] clutched to K’uk’ulkan’s side as she leaned in to rest her forehead against his. He exhaled lightly, feeling a light kick to his palm.
“Welcome back, my king,”
“I have return, my queen, my princess,”
563 notes
·
View notes
What Hurts The Most
Crosshair x Jedi reader
Order 66
Fluff - Angst
“It’s been a while since we’ve seen snow.” I said feeling the crunch of snow beneath my shoes.
“Exactly six months and seven days.” Remarked Tech as he looked through his data tablet, “It was the day of yours and Crosshair’s engagement.”
I didn’t hide the smile on my face as I stood up on my tippy toes to kiss Cross’s cheek. He scoffed to hide the blood rushing to his cheeks.
“Awe look at the cute couple.” Echo teased.
“Shut it Echo.” Crosshair sneered.
“Only a few more missions before this war is over and we can finally get married.” I leaned into Crosshair’s side, placing my hand on his chest.
“I’m still your best man right?” Echo teased.
“You’re going to have to talk to Ashoka and Rex. They’re currently fighting for that spot.” I mused.
“Well I don’t like the snow!” Wrecker boasted loudly, “It’s too cold.”
“Cold can be beautiful.” I murmured glancing to Crosshair.
His cold gaze softened under mine for just a moment before he looked away to scope out the area.
Suddenly there was movement behind the tree line and the relax stance we had before turned military as the bad batch raised their weapons. I hid the chuckle that rose to my throat as Crosshair pushed me behind him with his sniper rifle raised towards the possible threat. I would have scoffed if we weren’t in a battlefield. A sniper protecting a Jedi… In a way it was really cute.
“Wait.” I stated placing my hand on Crosshair’s arm as I felt a connection to the force, “It’s one of ours.” I said stepping out from behind him while the bad batch lowered their weapons.
“Master!” Caleb broke through the tree line with a gasp, “Thank the force you’re here!”
“We heard you need reinforcements.” I gave him a calm smile, “You did good in finding us. Now where is Master Billaba?”
“Thank you, my master is this way.” He motioned for us to follow him and took off back into the tree line.
“There’s our cue.” I said before following after the young Jedi.
“Let’s go get ‘em boys.” Said Hunter and the bad batch took off behind him with a holler.
My lightsaber was as green as the tea leaves master Yoda would use during our annual meditation anytime I was at the temple.
“Master Billaba, lovely to see you again.” I gave her a smile as I blocked another blaster fire.
“I wish it were under different circumstances, but it is nice to see you too Master.” She replied, “Behind you.” She warned me of the oncoming droid.
I only smiled, “He’s got it.” I said focusing on the one
“Who?” She asked blocking another shot.
The sound of a blaster whizzed past me and into the tin can without me turning around.
“Crosshair.” I answered looking towards his direction with a smile and a wave.
“Nice shot.” She commented as the last of the enemy army fell, “I feel in the force that you two are connected.”
Both of our shoulders relaxed and we sheathed our lightsabers.
She looked at me knowingly and I gave her a nod to confirm her hidden question, “Please…”
“I won’t.”
“Thank you.” I nodded before we met my team across the snowy field.
“Did you all see that!” Wrecker cheered loudly at his display of strength.
“It was impressive.” Billaba mused, “And you.” She looked to her padawan, “Good job.”
“Thank you master.” Caleb smiled.
“Another mission well done.” I smiled to my boys.
“Did you have any doubt?” Crosshair’s voice came out as he appeared from the tree line.
“With you here to keep me safe? Never.” I smiled lacing my hand with his.
“You need reinforcements to hold the line here.” Hunter suggested.
“With all do respect, we only follow Commander Billaba’s orders.” A clone spoke.
Billaba held up her hand, “No, he’s right. We need to hold this line.” She turned to go.
“We’re going to go scout ahead.” Hunter said motioning for his team to get ready.
“Can I go with them master?” Caleb asked and she thought for a moment before nodding.
“I’ll keep an eye on him.” I told Billaba who looked at me gratefully.
“Remember your training.” She spoke to Caleb as the rest of us began to walk ahead.
I fell in line with Crosshair as we began walking to catch up to Wrecker and Tech with Echo and Hunter behind us.
“I believe I owe you my thanks.” I smiled cheekily up at the tall man.
He smirked only slightly, “You let me shoot the droid.”
“Mm… I don’t believe I did.” I held my hands behind my back, “If I recall, the droid was behind me.”
“If I recall, you are a Jedi. You let me help you because you want something and I know what that something is.” He smirked as I nudged him in embarrassment.
I laced my fingers with his, “I let you help me because I trust no one more than you.”
“As do I, my little Jedi.” He tightened his grip on my hand.
We reached Wrecker and Tech who were talking about our mission. I stepped closer to Crosshair to get some warmth from the cold air.
“There’s the two love birds!” Wrecker yelled, “Heard the kids coming with us too.”
I nodded, “He’s just saying bye to master Billaba.”
“He should hurry. If my calculations are right, more droids should be heading our way.” Tech stated.
The four of us waited for the rest of our team to join us so we could head off. A thought came to mind about our previous conversation and I quickly reached up to take the toothpick from Crosshair’s lips. His face showed an annoyed expression, but softened when he saw the teasing smirk on my face.
“So does this mean I can show you my gratitude.” I whispered leaning up closer to his face.
He leaned down to meet me half way. His lips was only an inch from my own as he huffed, “How could I ever say no to you?”
He let go of my hand to run it through my hair and his free hand held my chin with more gentleness then anyone would account him for.
I closed my eyes as I waited for a kiss. His breath fanned against my face and my heart thrummed as he took my breath away.
“Crosshair!” Wrecker yelled.
I distantly heard as the pressure became unbearable.
“Crosshair! What the hell are you doing? Stop it!” Hunter’s voice came through as I reached up to grip Crosshair’s wrist.
I gasped for air as he gripped my neck tighter, tears coming to my eyes as I opened them to see his face glaring at me. It was a look that I had only seen once and that was when we first met…
“Cross…” I struggled to say his name.
I didn’t want to hurt him. I really didn’t, but he was going to kill me if I didn’t get away. I used the force, throwing him back from from me as I fell to my knees struggling for air. Suddenly, I felt a prescence beside me.
“Stay back!” Caleb yelled holding his saber towards my group.
“No.” Hunter shook his head, “You’ve got it wrong kid, we’re not going to hurt you.”
“Tell that to my master Billaba!” He yelled before tugging my arm to get up, “Master we have to go now! The clones have turned against us!”
I gathered myself, holding back my tears as I stood up. I glanced towards my right to see Master Billaba motionless in the cold snow. Looking back to my own team I reached for my lightsaber, pushing Caleb gently behind me.
“Why?” I asked, my voice gruff, but I needed to know, “Why would you do this? Turn against us so easily?”
“We’re not! I don’t know what’s going… Crosshair no!” Hunter yelled as my fiancé raised his gun towards me.
My hand shook slightly as I ignited my lightsaber, “Cross.”
“Good soldiers follow orders.” He said before firing.
I blocked his fire as Hunter grabbed onto Crosshair.
I quickly turned towards Caleb, “Run!” I yelled as the two of us took off into the woods.
“Why are they doing this?” Caleb asked as we ran as fast as we could, dodging branches and roots.
“I don’t know.” I said before hearing something in the distance, not to far behind us.
Of course they would track us.
I stopped Caleb from running any farther. I spoke in a quiet rush, “Whatever you do, don’t stop running. Don’t wait for me. I will lead them away and if I succeed, I will come find you.”
“What will you do?”
“I will do what I must.” I placed a hand on his shoulder, “You are brave, kind, and strong with the force Caleb Dunne. Tell no one of what you are. Follow the river and get to the shipping docks.”
He dived into my arms in a hug, “I’m sorry.”
I returned his hug, “I am too young padawan…” I gently pushed him towards the river, “Now go. May the force be with you.”
“May the force be with you Master.” He said before running as fast as he could.
I stood on a sturdy branch, keeping myself hidden behind a large tree trunk. My mind was filled with questions as I tried to calm my racing heart.
This can’t be my Crosshair… We were getting married. He wouldn’t do this, not willingly. No… Something must be wrong.
I heard the telling sign of the troopers footsteps causing a chill to run up my spine.
“They went this way.” Hunter said.
A chill went up my spine as I heard Crosshair’s telling hum, “Hm…”
I could feel the shot through the force before I saw it. Igniting my saber, I blocked the blaster fire before hoping to another branch. I made it my mission to lead them away from Caleb.
“Why are you making this so difficult!” Crosshair yelled.
“Why wouldn’t I! You love me! You shouldn’t be trying to kill me!” I yelled as I dodged another one of his blasts.
I almost made it to another branch until he shot it down, forcing me to fall harshly on the ground.
I coughed up the snow that entered my lungs as tears fell from my eyes. I slowly pushed myself up, digging my nails into the earth.
The gun clicking caught my attention and I new my time was up.
“Afraid?” He asked.
“I am not afraid to die.” I answered truthfully, “I am afraid of who you will become after you kill me.” I looked into his beautiful amber eyes and to the draining color of my face, I found no love there, “Wake up, please.”
“Good soldiers follow orders.” He repeated those same words.
“I love you.” I closed my eyes and waited for the end.
The sharp pain in my side forced me back onto the cold snow and painting the pearly iridescent in red.
“I took care of the other Jedi, the river had taken him…” Hunter muttered unsure of what was happening right now and the last thing he needed was to draw any suspicion. Not until he figured out what was going on, “Time to go.” He mumbled as he looked away from the Jedi he once considered a friend.
“Hm.” Crosshair hummed as he stared at the girl. It was longer than he would have liked before he was heading back to their ship.
The war was officially over.
I found myself in a field. Gold touching my finger tips as I slotted through the tall barley.
“Beautiful.” I smiled.
“It is.” A voice said behind me.
I turned to find my master Luminara.
“Master!” I went to greet her, but stopped as confusion settled in, “How are you here?”
“Hello, my padawan.” She smiled.
The way she looked… So calm I suddenly understood why she was here. My master had been killed as well.
“You’re… You’re with the force now too?” I asked to confirm my fears.
“I am, but you are not.” She said.
I furrowed my brows, “What do you mean? Aren’t I here as well?”
“You are… But you are not.” She said.
Her answer only seemed to confuse me more as I took another step towards her, “I do not understand master?”
“It is not your time yet.” She explained as the world around us seemed to glow.
“Master!” I reached out to her only to find her fading as well.
She gave me one last smile, “Stay strong with the force.”
Time seemed to hold still until I reached out for a grasp that tugged me into the light.
“Master…” A familiar voice spoke.
“Master?”
Again.
“Please don’t leave me too…”
And again until…
“Please… Wake up.”
I sat up swiftly, clutching my side in pain as I took in my surroundings. I was in a small room, Caleb was sitting beside my bed, a relieved look washing over his face.
“Master, thank the force you are alright.” Caleb sighed in relief.
“How…” I asked softly as I leaned back against the headboard.
“I didn’t listen to your orders… I came back and found you unconscious.”
“Crosshair never misses.” I mumbled.
“What?” Caleb asked.
“Crosshair… He never misses.” I looked to the young padawan, “That means whatever is going on… Whatever is happening to the clones. It’s not truly them. I can save him.”
“I will save him.” I stated with determination.
My gaze drifted to the open window to the sunrise that reminded me of his eyes.
I’ll find you my love. I promise.
271 notes
·
View notes
hello if its fine can i reaquest a fic for robin on mairishimata iruma kun x reader where robin was in his wicked phase and reader found him im wondering on how it will turn out it can be up to you
Heyyyyy Anon! I am so sorry this took me over six months to reply to. Hopefully this makes up for the wait.
This can be read as a stand alone, or as a continuation of this fic here
Gender-neutral reader, the end is kind of up for interpretation but does insinuate... happy fun times.
See my library of fics here!
If you had thought Robin was a ball of sunshine and energy before, he was twice as much now. It amused you to no end watching him conduct his classes in the courtyards, helping the students become more familiar with their familiars.
He was always so positive, so energetic. The light in his vivid green eyes always sparkled with happiness that you both loved, and to a point, envied him for.
So when you heard he was in his evil cycle, you were extremely surprised. Robin? Of all demons? What could have bothered him so much to do that?
"Best stay away," Dali had teased with a glint in his eye. "Those of the Babatos descent are very determined to get what they want."
Which… did nothing but invoke your curiosity to be honest. What did Robin want so badly that it would push him like this? Or was Dali just up to his tricks? After all, you had been dating/courting Robin for a while now and he hadn't seemed to want anything.
He had been an ultimate gentleman, or gentledemon, whatever. While he was always finding reasons to hug you and lavish you with soft kisses, he had never done anything further… which was actually causing you to feel conflicted.
So, against your better judgment, you went to search out your significant other, which ended up leading you to the wild forest adjacent to Babyls.
The forest was blessed with dappled sunlight, the sounds of the woods both reminding you of earth, as well as how different it was.
Just as you were thinking that maybe he wasn't among the trees, you felt something small fly by your face. You froze as the arrow impaled the tree next to you. You slowly turned, and could barely see Robin amongst the soft green foliage.
The smile on his face was slightly off; both playful and something else. Just like the expression in his eyes. "Are you gonna run, my little human?" He teased, his words barely heard over the rustling of the leaves. "You know how I love a good hunt."
There was a small voice in your head warning you that he was in an evil cycle. That you could be in quite a bit of trouble. This was not your happy-go-lucky Robin.
But… in a way it was. He was waiting for you despite everything. Yes, he had an arrow notched and aimed for you, but you could tell it was still the Robin you loved, looking for a spot of fun.
And, well, who were you to deny him?
You grinned up at him before spinning on your heel and taking off deeper into the woods, hearing him laugh behind you. Arrows were soon whizzing past, close enough you could feel their air currents, but never once actually brushing you. Your heart was pounding as you leapt over fallen logs and crashed through the underbrush, vaguely aware of Robin following you as his arrows came from different directions.
He may have been following you, but you realized he was guiding your path with his arrows, encouraging you to turn whenever he wanted with a few aimed shots. And that path led to a large oak-like tree that blocked your path, its roots too overgrown to simply climb around them.
Meaning you were trapped.
“Aw, too bad,” Robin cooed as he dropped from the canopy just as you turned to try a different path. His usual cheerful smile had been replaced with a rather wicked grin. “Looks like you lost.”
You bit your lip and you stepped backwards and he advanced, your heart still thrumming, though for a different reason. “So, what’s the mighty hunter going to do now that he caught his prize?” You asked as you were pressed against the rough bark of the tree.
“Hmm, that is a good question, my little human,” he purred, his voice taking on a darker quality that sent shivers straight to your core. He pinned you to the tree, his hands on either side of you, his sharpened nails digging into the bark. You closed your eyes and could barely hold back a whimper as he pressed his face against your neck. “I always wondered what a human actually tasted like…”
You had kissed before. Several times. But none of it prepared you for the kind of kisses he pressed to your neck, using his lips, teeth, and tongue in a way that soon had you gasping and whining in pleasure with a hint of pain.
Robin pressed even closer, his hands wandering across your chest and stomach, leaving gooseflesh in its wake, even with clothing between your skin and his. “Can I taste you?” he whispered in your ear as he boldly cupped your groin. “Please, my sweet?”
Devi, you wouldn’t have denied him in the first place, but especially when phrased like that.
78 notes
·
View notes
X.
Le grand rendez-vous
Who hasn't wanted a romantic italian summer romance with Kai Havertz?
WORD COUNT: 2.6K
The Italian riviera is exhilarating, from the way the sun makes the sea glisten the most beautiful shade of turquoise, bleeding into bright white when waves hit the cliff beneath the road, to the way white birds swoop in and out among white boats, with sails that disappear and reappear along the horizon like tiny meteorites in an endless sky. Driving along the coastline where the mountains meet the depths of the sea makes your breath hitch at every turn Kai takes on the small roads built into the rock walls of the cliff. You feel your knuckles turn white every time you grip into the handle of the door or edge of your car seat and your stomach drop whenever the car takes a sharper turn, grazing the pebbles of the road side.
You look over to Kai as the wind plays with his hair, his features framed by a pair of dark vintage frames and a black tshirt that hugs his torso perfectly, his tattoo peeking out when he moves his arm. He looks like a heartthrob plucked straight out of an old movie. Like he will turn to you and feed you a line just for it to be followed by a million women swooning and fainting. You are mesmerised by the way his hands steadily hold the wheel of the vintage BMW cabriolet, guiding the car, traversing it between the cliffside and rock wall. You admire the way his face is not showing any sign of worry or concentration, as if one wrong move would not send the two of you tumbling straight into the mouth of the sea with glistening white teeth of the crashing waves a hundred of metres below. The way the corners of his pink lips curl upward resemble those of a cat laying in the perfect spot of sun, you think, content and happy - a man at peace.
If you consider the past six months you don't think you have seen Kai look this way in a long time, his mind always torturing him about could-have-beens and should-have-beens. Even after games that he's won his mind would always trap him in a spiral of self pity for not doing better. It is almost as if you are not sitting next to the same man anymore, this Kai is not pale from the constant rain clouds and time spent indoors, instead his skin is glowing a light olive colour, reflecting the warm summer rays.
“You're thinking again,” he chuckles.
“I just don't like looking at the sea right now.” You throw your eyes over your shoulder and your stomach drops as he nears the edge of the lane again to pass an oncoming car.
“We'll be done with this road soon,” he soothes you, “schatz.”
You know he adds the last part to make your worries trickle away. He only uses that nickname on special occasions, in fear of it somehow wearing off, of becoming less special. Even though he is aware of the effect it has on you.
“You called me schatz.” You smile at him, letting your cheek fall onto the headrest as you look at him dreamily.
“I know I did,” he chuckles, not taking his eyes off the road.
“You look happy,” you observe.
“Yes, I'm with you, of course I'm happy!” He chuckles and the way his face lights up makes your stomach erupt in butterflies.
“I like you happy,” you sigh contently, “I like it so much.”
The car goes back to being silent, the italian radio station mixed with the sound of wind whizzing over your heads. You keep sneaking glances at the man next to you, your attention drawn to the fleeting views passing by the car.
—
The apartment you are staying in is small and quaint and humble in contrast to your spacious and luxurious house in England. The building is old, with old creaky floorboards and pale blue walls in the kitchen and living room faded from the decades of history that the bones of the home carries. The rooms are connected by heavy wooden double doors on rusty old hinges. The bedroom, much like the living room, is adorned by big windows framed by white linen curtains moving slowly in the breeze, beyond them a balcony overlooking the town below and the beautiful sea beyond the lively streets. The air of the space is heavy with the evening heat and humidity that mixes seamlessly with the smell of saltwater and wind that has seeped into every wall of the apartment over the decades. The distant bustle of the streets floats in through the open window making the apartment fill with life and warmth.
“Do you like it?” Kai's soft voice startles you.
You turn to look at him, your mind trying to find the words to encompass how everything, the trip and apartment, feels.
Even though the apartment is a stark contrast to what you would expect a professional football player to book as a holiday getaway, it is somehow perfectly Kai. Simple and humble, yet beautiful and extravagant in its own way. Special and one of a kind. You see him in every nook and cranny of the place. From the walls the colour of his eyes or to the sturdy and reliable furniture. A treasure tucked away from prying eyes.
And there he is, standing in the midst of it all, in a loose white t-shirt and a pair of simple shorts, hair still messy and windswept from spending all day driving a cabriolet, illuminated by the aura of the apartment. As if he was made for this place. This moment. Made for you only. The light from the cheap bulbs and windows illuminating him like he is something sent from heaven. An angel that has been cursed to walk the world until he finds his true love and now, here, in this moment, he's looking right at her. His eyes glisten in the evening glow filled with love and care and excitement.
“It's perfect Kai,” you say. Perfect seems like such a dumb and bland word to describe this place. You scramble for more words - superb, magical, breathtaking. None of them would describe the way you feel. None of them live up to the moment.
He doesn't reply instantly, taking his time to walk towards you, slowly, to let his eyes take you in. Finally he cups your cheek with his palm, slender fingers tracing shapes on your cheek. You lean into his touch the same way a sunflower always finds the sun. Kai slowly reaches down and kisses you. Your lips move slowly, lazily, both of you aware that you have nowhere to rush, nowhere to be. You tangle your fingers in his ebony hair and his hand cups your lower back as a cellist would hold his beloved cello. You feel his muscles ease against your body bit by bit, Kai melting into your body, finally letting himself relax.
“I think it's pretty great too.” He smiles pullin back and looking down at you. “I was thinking we could maybe go get dinner and explore the town?”
“Only if you hold my hand the whole time,” you tease him.
“Who said there was any other possible way of doing this?” He kisses your nose letting his hand slide from your cheek, down your shoulder and arm finally finding your fingers, intertwining them.
You try to find words or a stupid question, to stay here, in this moment, not to leave this perfect bubble of love. To have him kiss you again in your perfect safe haven from the world beyond the doors. To lock him away from prying eyes and sharpened tongues that make him doubt himself. To protect him.
But you know you cannot. He is not yours to lock up in an ivory tower, or in this case a small apartment by the sea in a small Italian coastal town. The worry lines on his forehead will come back and his muscles will tense again, this Kai in front of you, right now, is all but a mirage, smoke and mirrors. A sight only occurring once in a blood moon. A fleeting image that you are desperately trying to catch before it fades.
And then, like clockwork, as quickly as it appeared the air of peace and relaxation is gone. Even if he tries to hide it his shoulders become more rigid and the hints of self doubt and pain sneak back into his eyes. Your heart breaks seeing how easily, like it's second nature to him, Kai slides right back into the role of the tortured and haunted prodigy that will never live up to the expectations set on him by the world. Like Sisyphus always trekking up the hill just to be knocked down again when he thinks he's reached the summit. Never giving up or giving in - determined to bring every ounce of glory home to his team and family and friends.
“You ready to go?” you ask him, kissing his cheek. You are scared that if you stand here for a moment longer, look in his eyes for a second longer, you will break down. Fall to your knees sobbing. Beg for him to give up football. To move here. To run away with you. So the vultures can't get him. So he is safe.
“Yes ” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you, as soft as before. His touch feather light against your body, like a warm summer breeze.
—
The streets of the town are lined by citrus trees, the smell of oranges and lemons mixing with the warm sea air sends your head spinning. Kai swings your hands between the two of you as both of you exit the little pizzeria, bellies full of cheese and bread and wine. Cheeks already sore from smiling and laughing.
“That wine was amazing!” you say to him as you near the seaside.
“It was phenomenal,” he exclaims, bringing your hands to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
Phenomenal. Another word that seemingly loses all its magnitude and weight if you were to try and use it to describe this place and feeling. It feels too overused and mundane if you were to use it as a verbal expression of your feelings. Many things are phenomenal - meals, songs, films or football games. But if you tried to describe the smell of the fruit trees lingering on the nightly streets of this city or the way waves crashing against the rocks by the seaside create a perfect symphony of background ambience to your walk it would not be phenomenal. It's too much of an overused word for that.
“Do you wanna go in here?” he asks, pointing at a small outdoor bar, swallowed by flower vines and adorned by metal tables, music playing from the speakers, people milling around the courtyard.
You nod enthusiastically. The place looks like pure magic, out of a movie. The kind of place people go to fall in love.
You find a place to sit while Kai goes to fetch the two of you a bottle of wine and glasses. As he walks through the crowd you sigh happily. It's the way his face can't help but light up at the sight of you, every millimetre of his features filled with pure unadulterated love and joy. He slides into the seat next to you and pours the wine. The two of you begin to talk about the surroundings, looking at the people passing by. You tell him about how you think you should plant roses like these at home, a reminder of the trip always with you, growing and wrapping around the sleek and seemingly perfect terrace of your England home, breaking up the sterile feeling that the home has even after years of living there. He tells you about how the two of you must find out who makes this wine before you leave so he can import it, so there is always a piece of Italy with you, because never has he tasted a better wine ever. You debate about whether you should stay here another night or move on to Lake Como. Both of you captivated by the sheer beauty of the seemingly meek town that has rooted itself into your hearts. You take turns picking the bottles of wine and making a game of it.
Currently you are on your third bottle watching an old italian couple slow dance to the upbeat music. Both of you grinning at the seemingly oblivious pair, lost in their own world, moving to a beat completely opposite of the current song.
“You think that's going to be us in a few years?” you ask, chuckling.
“Definitely,” he says when you look at him, he isn't watching the elderly couple, instead his eyes are glued to you.
“Kai...” you chuckle, blushing.
“Come on! I'll give you a taste!” He says getting up.
“Kai...” you laugh.
“Come on!” he laughs gripping your wrist. “I want to dance with you!”
He pulls you up from the seat grinning like a maniac, and you don't protest. His eyes are dark like the sky above, the light from the lanterns above illuminating them with flicks of light like stars. You let his limbs pull you after him, the two of you soon moving to the rhythm of the song. Suddenly the air around you is light and time doesn't matter.
“What are you thinking about in that head of yours?” You ask him.
For a moment Kai forgets the missed penalties, the goals that should have been, the booing of fans at away stadiums and fans dressed in blue. His muscles relax and briefly his heart is not weighed down by worries and pain. In the moment, under the moon in this small quaint Italian town, he is not “Kai Havertz - football player”, he is just Kai, a man from Aachen, dancing with the love of his life under the starry skies, not worrying about tomorrow. The way she looks at him makes his heart skip a beat, as if she saved him from himself and nothing matters anymore, he's not pushing a rock up the hill just for it to tumble down again. He's not searching for glory, tripping and falling over his feet. Having her look up at him like he put the stars in the sky and pulled down the moon just for her, makes him feel like there is nothing he can't do. Having her in his arms, knowing she doesn't hate him, even if the whole world does, and knowing she is always in his corner is enough to bring him to his knees. She was sent from heaven above to save him from himself.
“Just how much I love you…” he smiles. His smile is different. Brighter, more genuine. “What are you thinking about?”
“Just how much I love you.” You nuzzle your face into his neck, kissing the warm skin earning a laugh. The kind that makes even the deepest parts of his chest rumble.
In that moment you feel like nothing matters, like no one can ever break this moment. Like in one of those postmodernism books your mother used to read on holidays, time is a construct, and you and Kai have briefly become timeless. Stuck in this moment that is filled with love and calmness, passion and excitement. Excitement for the future and what stands before the two of you. You realise that the magic is not hidden in the apartment, or growing in the vines of flowers everywhere or even bottled and corked here, it is instead rooted between you. Like a secret only you and Kai are in on. Finally the word comes to you. Finally you find words that describe the place, the moment, the feelings. Everything and everything and everything. It's all - Kai Havertz.
43 notes
·
View notes
christmas tree farm ❅ yang jeongin
pairing — jeongin x reader
genre — fluff
tw — none
wc — 1.1k
a/n — also not proofread .. hah sorry .. anyways .. last xmas post !!!! merry crhistmas everyone !!! pls reblog if you enjoyed <3
————
your family lived on a beautiful christmas tree farm, and ever since you were old enough to manage, you helped your parents out on the farm.
it opened on december 1st and closed on december 24th every year. it was busiest mid december, which is when you first met jeongin ten years ago, back when you were both young kids.
he was adorable back then. huge goofy grin and sparkly curious eyes. jeongin came with his family in the middle of december to get their christmas tree. his parents ushered him to hand you the money, despite his shyness. since that first awkward, conversation-less first encounter, it had become a tradition for jeongin to pay on behalf of his family when they came to get their christmas tree.
obviously, christmas was your favourite time of the year. secretly, however, a major contributing factor to that statement was getting to see jeongin again after 12 months.
see, this year you were planning on working up the courage to ask him out. you were meant to do it last year, and the year before, but you always chickened out and were forced to wait another 12 months.
but this time you wouldn't.
"here come the yangs." your annoying brother beomgyu nudged you obnoxiously.
"please don't do anything to jeopardise this when they come to pay later." you begged him, grabbing the saw and tape measure to hand the yang family.
"i wouldn't dare." he raised his hands in surrender.
you lifted a doubtful brow.
"trust me." beomgyu said, spinning you around to face the familiar approaching family.
"welcome everyone! it's great to see you all again." you smiled at them.
"hi, sweetie! has it been busy today?" jeongin's mother asked you.
you waved the question off with another smile, "a little, but nothing we can't handle." you motioned to your brother who was busy organising some ornaments behind you. "right, beom?"
"of course!" he whizzed around lifting a thumbs up.
you passed over the saw and tape measure which jeongin accepted, "have fun out there! don't forget it's cold and you're welcome to hot beverages when you come to pay."
"thanks sweetie!" jeongin's mother called out to you as they headed out into the snow covered forest.
when they were a distance away, their bright puffy jackets just specks of colour amongst the snow, beomgyu commented, "jeongin was totally checking you out just then."
"what?! he was not." your cheeks warmed despite your disagreement.
"he so was." beomgyu persisted, "are you finally gonna ask him out?"
you couldn't contain your grin, "should i? do you think he'd say yes? i've been thinking about it for years."
"years?"
"yes.. is that weird?"
"well, it's not that weird. maybe a little creepy that you've been secretly ogling him for ten minutes every twelve months, but not weird. you definitely have to ask him out." beomgyu said, and he had a point.
"i know." you sighed, drawing mindless scribbles on the notepad at the counter.
you made yourself busy while waiting for the yangs to bring over their tree for payment. you tidied behind the counter, reorganised the tape measures on the shelf, and made yourself a hot chocolate with the kettle and provided ingredients.
"they're coming back." beomgyu pointed out casually, nodding towards the family.
you stiffened as the nerves instantly returned.
beomgyu seemed to notice, "hey, relax, it's probably gonna be fine."
"yeah. probably." you repeated, taking a deep breath.
"we're back!" jeongin's mother smiled at you, her husband struggling behind with the three.
"that's a gorgeous tree, you chose well this year!" you complimented. "how tall was it?"
"just over six foot." jeongin's dad called from behind.
"okay," you smiled, "that'll be a hundred dollars, then."
your eyes flitted to jeongin, who, to your surprise, was already looking at you. your heart skipped a beat.
he counted through some cash, ensuring it was exactly $100 before placing it in your open palm, "here you go." he offered a shy smile.
you wonder if he felt that spark too.
"thank you." you put the cash into the register. "well," you clapped your hands together, "have a merry christmas you guys!"
"you too, sweetie! see you next year!" jeongin's mum waved you goodbye and her family did the same.
they began to walk away, and as they did, jeongin spared another glance over his shoulder at you, causing you once again to tense up.
you'd missed your chance again.
"well that was just sad." beomgyu said bluntly. "you just let him walk away.”
"i know, beom! i was already too nervous but i couldn't ask him with his parents right there." you whined. "guess it'll be another twelve months." you frowned, dragging your hands down your face in frustration.
"or not." beomgyu began to smile as he motioned his head behind you.
you whirled around to see jeongin standing on the other side of the counter, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.
"oh, jeongin! did you forget something?" you asked him politely.
"uh, no..." he paused for a moment. "actually, yeah i kinda did."
"what was it?"
"well," jeongin paused again and took a small breath, "i forgot to ask you if you'd be interested in going out... on a date?"
"jeongin, i'd love to!" you beamed, heart racing a million miles an hour. you couldn't believe beomgyu was right all along and that jeongin was interested in you too.
"wait, really?" he looked surprised.
"i was going to ask you out earlier as well, but i chickened out... like i have for the last few years." you confessed to a shocked jeongin.
he sighed, almost in relief, "that makes two of us."
you both laughed, the nerves melting away like marshmallows in a steamy hot chocolate.
"i can't believe we've both been crushing on each other for this long and never said anything until now." you said, writing down your phone number onto the notepad for jeongin before passing it to him.
"yeah well," he laughed a bit again, accepting the folded piece of paper with your number scribbled onto it, "i think it started when i handed you that money when we first came."
"you remember that?" you said in surprise. "i think about that first interaction pretty much every day." you smiled fondly.
"of course i remember it! i thought you were so pretty." his cheeks reddened a little as he shared the honest compliment.
"well, this has all been very heartwarming, however," beomgyu clapped you on the back, "there's a family coming in right now who will want to be served, instead of watching this lovely little rom-com scene."
"so i'll give you a call then?" jeongin said with a wink.
"bye jeongin! tell your family i said merry christmas again!" you waved him goodbye as the next family approached the counter.
not a minute later you got a text from an unsaved number and grinned at the message.
let's not wait another 12 months this time!
— jeongin
122 notes
·
View notes
ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ {.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}𝘬𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦
𓆩♡𓆪 A/N: this was such a fun submission and my first time writing for Kakashi so I hope it's okay!! As always, check out the masterlist for more and if you're under 18 - buzz off, you're responsible for your own media consumption and this is a mature content blog. Ily all <3
𓆩♡𓆪 Summary: A case of mistaken identity at the spring leads to some fortunate revelations.
𓆩♡𓆪CW: Smut, smut, lots of it, just lots of sex, sexy jutsu, cursing, fem!reader, mentions of weapons.
The water soothed your aching joints in seconds, dry skin – sunburn and all – floating away with the soft ripples of the water. You could hear the soft trickle of taps and the sounds of a nearby nightingale. The warm, early summer air brushed against your skin. All alone in the hot spring, you finally felt calm. You last mission in the Hidden Sand had really taken it out of you, the summer heat, the nightmare opponents you faced and the seemingly endless stream of missions you’d been on had really taken its toll, but now, you had a whole month off. Tsunade insisted every six months, a Jonin got a month off, and 2 weeks every 3 months for ANBU members. As you begin to plan all the things you want to do for the next month (sleep, mainly) you rise from the water, steaming tendrils following your skin. You’re alone, so you don’t need a towel right now and the balmy air feels incredible on your bare skin. You loose your hair from its clip-on top of your head and let it tumble down your back as you rake your hands over your scalp.
As you bend over to reach for your towel, a metallic ‘whizz’ swishes past your ear and clatters on the wall. Turning to the collision point, your heart stops. The discarded Kunai was lodged in the plaster of the wall.
Just one night.
That’s all you wanted.
And preferably to not have to fight anyone nude.
“Alright, who’s there? If you’re gonna fight me then c’mon, I wanna get home.” You say into the night.
“Oh shit.” You hear coming from behind the door. Wait, you know that low timbre.
“Kakashi?” You ask, now wrapping your soft towel around your bare figure.
“Wait? Y/N?” The voice replies, and out comes the suspect – hand covering his one exposed eye.
“Mind telling me why you’re tossing kunai at me at 2am in the hot spring?” You say, sitting on a nearby rock.
“Not really.”
“We’ll, you’re gonna.”
“I – uh – shit.” The visible tips of his ears were bright red.
“Wait – were you spying on me? What the fuck Hatake?” He must have seen everything if he threw that kunai at you.
“Jesus, no! Who do you think I am – Jiraiya?!” Everyone knew of the Sanin’s ‘bathhouse visits.
“You got a lot of explaining to do then!”
“Or – how about we forget this ever happened?”
“No.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
You noticed he was crouched funny on the tree branch he had perched on, head facing down, and he kept adjusting his mask.
“I was coming for a bath because nobody comes out here this late, so I can take off my mask. Then, I – saw there was someone there and thought…” He knew he had to tell you the truth, he didn’t want the girl he’d been in love with since he was 12 to think that all the Icha-Icha had turned him into a peeping Tom.
“Thought what? That maybe some late-night attempted murder would be fun?!”
“No!”
“Then what!”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you!”
“Then why did you throw a kunai at my damn head!”
“I thought you Naruto was here!”
“You thought I was NARUTO?!”
“Shit, Y/N, I thought you were his Sexy Jutsu!”
You pause. Stomach dropped.
Kakashi looked as if he’d die.
“Wait? What?”
“You heard me.”
“Get down here.”
If he thought you, in all your naked glory, had been Naruto’s jutsu – such an embodiment of beauty that it rendered enemies bleeding – oh my god. The head tilt, the mask.
He had a nosebleed.
Kakashi thought that you were so sexy, that you couldn’t be real.
The man – who you had been in love with since you were 11 – got a nosebleed from seeing you naked.
He dropped down from the branch, silent as a panther.
He had his head tilted to look at the sky and honestly, you were surprised this man hadn’t disappeared into a puff of smoke. He was pretty awkward, had been his whole life. Like a stray cat, you always thought.
You took a step closer.
It’s now or never.
The confidence you felt seeping through your very blood was something you’d never felt before. You felt electric. The Copy Ninja, Son of the White Fang, Master of a Thousand Jutsu’s, Chidori creator – had been rendered essentially useless and a puddle of a man all because of your bare skin.
The thought of him feeling so enamoured by you sent pure blazing heat between your thighs.
You wanted him.
You wanted him to ruin you.
You stepped closer.
“You mean that, ‘Kashi?” You ask, voice low and airy with want and awe.
He just stares into your eyes, his pupils taking in your lust-blown ones.
You wanted him.
He was going to ruin you.
“I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He says, fingers dipping to hook under your chin and tilt your face to look up at him.
Only in this proximity did you realise the sheer difference between you, he dwarfed you. His broad shoulders engulfing you in shadow, moonlight draping across his silver hair like silk.
“You know… you should probably make sure I am real.” You bat your lashes at him.
“And how would I do that?”
“Touch me.”
With that, he wraps one arm around your waist and weaves his fingers through the hair at the back of your head, pulling you in flush with his solid body.
You could already feel him, even through his tac trousers, his whole body – hot and hard.
“Say it again.” He almost growls, and you almost fall apart on the spot.
“Touch me, ‘Kashi. Please.”
“Fuck, sweetheart - you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that” He mumbles, lithe fingers tracing your curves.
“Then stop fucking around. I thought you were a man of action?” You tease.
“Oh, I’m planning on fucking around a lot more.” He smirks, the curve of his lips visible through the mask. He spots your eyes flitting down to his lips and he hooks a finger into his mask.
13 years of friendship and you had only seen him without his mask once, and that time, he was covered in blood as you attempted to heal him.
But fuck, was it worth the wait.
He barely gave you a second to think and admire, before his still-smirking lips came crashing onto yours. He tasted like heaven, the salt of sweat and something sweeter making you whimper into his mouth. His scent too, it’s encasing you completely – salty, fresh soap, and something woodsy that you don’t have the attention span to pinpoint right now.
You tangle your fingers into the thick mass of soft hair on his pretty head and tugged slightly, eliciting a pained groan from the man who immediately hoisted you by the thighs onto his waist, and you feel yourself being pushed up against a tree. From this angle, you could already feel his stiff length against the plush of your ass as he ground his hips into you, making you gasp – an opportunity he grasped to slide his tongue into the cavern of your mouth. Experimentally, you circle your hips to feel him again and he pulls his mouth from yours.
“This feels like every wet dream I had as a teenager.” He smirks, reattaching his lips to your neck, breathing heavy and ragged with restraint to not just rip your towel off and plunge himself into you then and there.
“Who was the star of those dreams?” You giggle, genuinely curious as to who he fantasised over when you were sitting with him as your teenage dream.
“Who do you think, dumbass?”
“Tsunade-sama?” The most beautiful woman in the village back then had to be the obvious choice.
But you must have guessed wrong, for he sank his teeth into the silky skin of your neck in protest before pulling away, keeping one hand under your thighs, and bringing the other up to cup your cheek.
“Idiot.”
“Rude.”
“You. Y/N. It’s always been you.”
You kiss him this time. Softer, sweeter than the last.
“You’ve been the star of all my dreams, since we were kids.” You whisper into his lips.
He reattaches his lips to yours, your teeth lightly pulling on his lower lip which makes him lift you from the tree and carry you to the patch of mossy earth beside the spring. It feels like a cloud on your back, and ask he adjusts himself over you, you take the chance to pop the fastening of your towel, letting it flutter to the ground beneath you and exposing yourself to him – with full awareness this time.
“As good up close, Hatake?” You smirk at him as his hands form fists by his side – jaw clenched.
“So much fucking better.” He says as he dives back into your neck.
You let yourself indulge in the feeling of his heated lips and tongue leaving marks over your skin, that will no doubt be as purple as grapes by tomorrow, his teeth leaving bite marks that he may as well just spell out ‘Property of Kakashi Hatake” on your forehead and be done with it. You realise he’s mumbling, and you listen to his words.
mine mine mine mine mine was the chorus being sung into your skin and you pull his face up to look at you.
“Yours.”
You tug on the bottom hem of his vest and shirt, desperate to have him as bare as you to which he eagerly obliges – unclipping the fastenings of the vest in what must be record speed – oh what those hands could do, you often thought to yourself watching him make hand signs or twirl his kunai around his fingers – leaving you frustrated and hot under the collar as you fought alongside him in countless missions, always relieving the pent up tension with your own measly fingers when you returned home – they did the job, but you just knew he would work pure magic on your body with his.
But soon enough, all thoughts leave your mind because before you – no hitai-ate, no mask, no vest, no shirt was Kakashi. Muscled thighs spread, kneeling over your thighs and looking down at him. Eyes as dark as the night sky itself, pale skin scattered with shiny scars – some of which you stitched up yourself – and his hair glowing in the light of the moon that was acting as a backdrop.
“Fuck, ‘Kashi. You’re fucking… beautiful.” You softly sigh. You think you’ve never seen a person so stunning, corded muscles of his arms showcasing the pure agile strength of him, chest heaving and glittering with a slight sheen of sweat and defined, chiselled abs leading to a strong Adonis belt decorated with a trail of darker grey hair leading down, down, down…
You could see him straining against the fabric of his pants, obviously painfully hard as he hissed when you so much as brushed a finger against the zipper of them. You look up at him through your eyelashes and the sight takes his breath away.
You lay beneath him, hair splayed out like a fallen angels, contrasting against the mossy floor beneath you. Sparkling eyes reflecting the starlight gazing wide eyed at him through your fluttering lashes rendered him speechless. The cute curve of your nose, leading to those delicious kiss-swollen lips. The slope of your neck and the smell of you – God the smell. Roses and cherries and something deeper, something that was just you. Your scent drove him wild as he had been kissing your neck, leading him to create the litany of marks he was now admiring. These were all things he’d seen before, admired before, loved before. But now, you had allowed him to venture further, to see the parts of you that he would imagine reading his novels. The girl in the stories was always you – since he first picked it up. All of his dreams, day and night, and his imagination when his own calloused palm and fingers were wrapped around his flushed cock in his bed at night – they were all you. Spread beneath him, beside him, on top of him. Some days, especially in summer – training had been torture with you. Your skin slick with sweat, droplets dripping between your breast – your shorts or skirt riding higher and higher as the heat grew more stifling. There had been many days he had felt his pants tighten and had to come up with an excuse to vanish from the training grounds to somewhere private.
Yet, none of that – not one imagined image – could compare to what was lain before him now.
Chest heaving, the slope of your waist leading to the wider curve of your hips, he was desperate to see your ass, he’d always been an ass man and he was convinced yours was the best around, he’d never tell that he’d heard other ANBU members talking about how much they loved your ass in your uniform one time and it had infuriated him so much that he had them on extra training for a month – thighs so strong and beautiful that he wanted them wrapped around his head so many times and the soft, squishy mound between them. Fuck, he wanted to taste you.
“Sweetheart, you’ve no idea what you do to me.” He says, voice strained.
“I’ve a rough idea, probably the same as what you do to me.” You smirk, taking his hand and guiding it to where you can already feel your sopping folds.
A soft ‘fuckkkk’ was groaned when he felt how soaked you were, and he hadn’t even touched you yet.
With the speed only he could have, he is suddenly on his knees, strong body separating your thighs so he can look at your most intimate places. You squirm under his gaze, charcoal eyes so intense you feel like he can see right through you. Before you can think, he’s licking a long, sloppy stripe from your dripping hole to the precious little pearl above. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes you at the feeling of his mouth – until he does it again. This time, with more precision, a look on his face of pure determination and concentration, he was now lapping at your slick like you were an oasis in the desert. The fiery heat in your stomach intensified to a scorching level when he brought up his pretty pink lips to wrap around your little nub and gently suckle, your thighs clenching around his head and hands tugging at the roots of his hair at this new action – oh, he found what you liked. You were so focused on the feel of his mouth and the coil in your belly tightening that you don’t register the finger circling your entrance until it’s dipping into you, and you gasp, back arching at the delight of this foreign intrusion. You mewl as he adds another and curls them inside you, searching for that sweet spot. He knows he’s found it when you mewl into the night, and you can feel him smirk against you. Fuck, you were right. Those hands – magical.
“Jesus, ‘Kashi. I’m so ah – so close, fuck.” Your voice is almost unrecognisable, breathy and heavy simultaneously.
He groans into you.
“Good girl, cum for me sweetheart. Let me taste you.” He says, only detaching his mouth long enough for the words to come out. He snakes his free hand up to pinch and tug at your nipple and you’re sent careening over the edge – body tensing and arching off the ground into his face and body as waves and waves of heat and pressure release from your wound-up body. He slowly lets you ride out your high on his fingers and mouth before pulling away and dropping a kiss just below your navel.
“Need you, ‘Kashi. Please.” You mumble, already slurring your words and so, so desperate to be filled.
“You are sure, sweetheart?” He asks, swiping a thumb across your lower lip. You nod, then wrap your lips around his finger and reach out the undo the fastening of his trousers. You pull his pants and boxers down in one swoop and you think you’ve died and gone to heaven – is this real? Is this man real? Surely not.
A pretty, pale pink, uncut cock slaps up against his stomach - easily the largest you’ve seen, about 8 inches and thick enough that you think you’re going to need both hands to handle it, because one surely won’t do. The flush tip is dripping with shiny droplets of precum, spreading across his very-lickable abs.
You can’t help it – the whimper comes out of your mouth as you lean forward in hopes of catching him in your mouth. A hand grips your hair just as you slide your tongue out pas your lips.
“Sweetheart – as much as I want to see those pretty lips around my cock – I gotta feel you now. I have to be inside you.” He mutters.
“Please, ‘Kashi – just a little taste.” You bargain with him, eyes wide and pleading.
He might just cum on the spot.
He can’t deny that pretty request so he relinquishes his hold on your hair and you dart forward, soft, warm, wet tongue licking a languid stripe up the midnight blue vein on the underside of his cock and he reaches an arm, pinching his wrist to make sure this isn’t a dream. When he felt the pinch, he realised this was really happening, you were real and here and so was he. All those years of pining and dreaming were coming to fruition.
He lets you continue for a few more licks before he grips your hips and lays you on your back, large hands spayed across the flesh and digging squeezing tightly.
He leans down, locking lips with you once more as he grinds himself into your warmth, hissing in unison with his tip catching on you clenching hole.
Thank fuck for your contraception is all you can think.
He adjusts himself and even your own arousal and post orgasmic bliss didn’t prepare you for the initial tip as he slowly slides the mushroom tip of his cock into you, the burn didn’t last for long however, pain making way for pleasure as in one swift thrust, he sheathes the rest of himself into you – walls so wet and warm he thinks he might stay like this forever. He gives you a second to adjust before he feels you start to squirm under him, experimentally rolling his hips to meet yours and the noises you both let out could have been a symphony – the feeling of being wrapped up, tangled together was otherworldly. His thrusts grew deeper and deeper as he once again latched his teeth onto your throat. You could feel him holding back, and that simply wouldn’t do.
“Ah – ‘Kashi, fuck – ruin me, don’t hold back – please.” You say, intentionally squeezing around his cock.
“Say please.” His gruff voice calls into your ear.
“Kashi, just – fuck, faster.”
“Say. Please.” Each word was punctuated by a brutal thrust and a sinful smirk.
“Please, Kakashi. Please – ruin me.”
With that he lifted your shaking legs so your knees rested on his toned shoulders, ANBU tattoo contrasting his pale skin. He noticed yours simultaneously, pressing a kiss to it.
The moment of tenderness was quickly shattered when he gripped your waist with a pressure that would definitely result in bruises and begin to drive his cock into you at an unforgiving pace. The air knocked from your lungs; you could feel the winding spring beginning to tighten in your belly once again.
“Pretty cunt squeezing me like fuckin’ vice. As if you weren’t tight enough already.” He growls as he feels your orgasm approaching and his words have you coming undone around him, soaking his cock.
His hips stutter as your gummy walls flutter around him and he’s seconds away from reaching his own Euphoria.
“Where can I cum, sweetheart?” He whines, and the Copy Ninja of Honoha whimpers at your reply.
“Inside. Please, inside, make me yours.” You reply, tugging on his hair at the nape of his neck.
With this, his hips still as his balls contract and he empties himself inside of you, warmth flooding your sense and body milking him for all he’s got. You both sit there to catch your breaths for a second, basking in the afterglow.
Then, you start to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” He asks, sliding to lay beside you, arm wrapping around your waist.
“I can’t believe you actually thought I was Naruto’s sexy Jutsu, and that your first reaction was to throw a weapon at it.” Your giggles overtook you as you remembered the events that lead to this moment.
He groans in response.
“Never living that down, am I?” A sly smile illustrates he’s not actually that upset about it.
“Not as long as I’m around.” You reply, lacing your fingers with his and lifting your gaze to meet his steely one.
“And how long will that be, sweetheart?” He says, stroking a thumb over your cheekbone.
“Forever, if you’ll have me?” You softly smile in response, leaning into his hand.
“Of course, I will – been yours since the day you slapped Obito for saying dolls were silly when we were 10.” He laughs at the memory, and you giggle at the image of a shocked Obito who decided then and there that he was your friend, a snickering young Kakashi standing nearby.
You’re both silent for a second.
“I love you, ‘Kashi.” You whisper.
“I love you too.”
The nightingale’s song provided the soundtrack for the long-awaited confession between the two of you, a sound which would forever be imprinted for the rest of your lives together as what marked the start of your relationship.
You untangle yourself from him, standing up and the starlight highlights the dribbles of his essence crawling down your inner thighs.
“Wanna join me in the spring? Seems I need to bathe again.” You smirk, hips swinging and eyes glancing over your shoulder as you make your way to the water.
“Y/N, the day I say no to that, kill me because I’ve surely gone mad.” He says and swipes you over his shoulder like a rag doll and slaps a large around across the fat of your ass.
48 notes
·
View notes
new character????? hand them over!! 🤲🏼
Captain — Lockie Richards
Fem!Reader
Warnings: just headcannons lol (more like her whole life story but yk sometimes you can’t stop writing I word-vomited cause I love her so much she fighting Benni for top spot rn), mentions of wars, injury, guilt, depression, anxiety, physical disability, vomit
—
• Lockie joined the US Air Force as soon as she turned 17. All her life she’d loved the sky, and everything to do with it, the stars and moon, the clouds, and of course, aircrafts. She liked all kinds, but planes were her favourite. From the age of 3 she was whizzing around the garden with her grandfather holding a luftwaffe, whom she was chasing with a spitfire, reenacting the battles of the wars. She’d always win, of course, since her grandfather made sure she held the plane whom’s side was victorious.
• Her grandfather had been in the Royal Air Force in Britain, after his parents escaped Eastern Europe with him in the early 1940’s. Having grown up watching the soldiers and pilots fight, he made it his dream to fight in the skies and protect his country. He passed this inspiration to small Lockie.
• Growing up, Lockie’s parents had tried to shield her from her grandfather. He was… a little too adult for her. They didn’t want her knowing about what happened in the wars, she was only small, not even in school yet. But hearing about all the courageous pilots made her just want to fight in the skies even more!
• Lockie was a bit different growing up. She was tiny until she was around 15, and then she shot up. Big time. By the time she was 17, enlisting in the air force, she was at a staggering 6’4, and had more muscle mass than most of her male peers, also shaving the sides of her head and keeping the top fairly short, just for that added oomph. This made her an excellent candidate, and due to her prior knowledge of flying, she was up in the skies by 18.
• She loved it. Waking up early, drills, cleaning, flying — all aspects of the army life made her so happy. All her colleagues loved her, she was so charming and smiley, and was the most loyal person you’d ever met.
• Lockie was often put on jobs that involved boldyguarding. Mostly due to her intimidating look, but also because her higher ups knew she’d take a bullet for a stranger. She didn’t mind these jobs, but would rather be in the skies.
• She was promoted to Captain in just three years of being there. She was just too good at her job. She was destined to be one of the greatest female flyers in history. If it weren’t for the mission on January 3rd.
• It never should have happened. Lockie was supposed to be in Washington, not flying across to Eastern Europe with her crew. It was cold and there were harsh winds, but the last crew had pulled out due to a wave of measles, and Lockie’s was next in line.
• They hadn’t even made it past France when the plane started to malfunction. Lockie and her five other pilots who’d accompanied her worked hard to try and figure out the problem, but they knew it was hopeless. Lockie knew she had to try and land, but the area was rocky and it would be practically impossible.
• The six huddled together for a moment, a final wish, a goodbye even, before Lockie tried her absolute hardest. But not even a pilot with 30 years experience could have saved them. The engine was spluttering and the body was shaking, and then they crashed into the hillsides of Germany.
• Lockie was the only one who survived, and she never forgave herself. She was so, so stupid, forgetting to check her plane over before the big flight. She could have prevented this but she didn’t.
• Lockie didn’t come out unscathed, either. She lost her right leg, to the mid-thigh, and was in a coma for a month afterwards. She lost her confidence, and her nerve. No longer was she Captain Lockie Richards, she was just Lockie. She became shy, quiet, troubled. Incredibly anxious.
• She could barely leave her apartment for months on end. People scared her, so much that she would freeze up and have terrible panic attacks when doing something as simple as taking the garbage out. Slowly, she managed to keep herself together to go out, but if people talk to her, she has an internal crisis and searches for any way out of the conversation.
• Her family and friends were worried. Having to learn to use a prosthetic while battling her mentality was clearly not working very well. Lockie was a shell of what she used to be, and since hid herself away from the world, ashamed, embarrassed and guilt-ridden.
• She became the mechanic of the air base, working alone, silently, never working on a machine that took to the skies. Just cars and artillery, even taking in some for the naval base nearby. She works with her headphones on, so that everyone knows not to bother her, not that anyone does unless it’s urgent. They know she’s struggling, and that talking to her just makes her want to throw up with nerves. And gosh… if anyone even mentions her flying… Way too many intrigued rookies have been dragged away by Lockie’s angry mates for making her hide in the storage cupboard, sobbing so hard she spews.
• She dreads flying now. Vows to never step foot on a plane or helicopter or anything of the kind. Has to look away whenever a plane takes off on the runway nearby.
• She visits her grandfathers grave and weeps, apologising for doing more harm than good.
• She needs someone to tell her to stfu she’s amazing and it wasn’t her fault.
• Will that be you? It better be cause I ain’t writing heartbreak for this girl-
• Oh yeah lol yandere. She’s the manipulative, clingy type. Doesn’t mean to but she can’t bare to see you leave. Won’t hurt anyone but will use her intimidated stature to scare people off. Probably wouldn’t kidnap you but maybe if you’re slipping from her grasp or have a dangerous job she needs to protect you from.
• :3
11 notes
·
View notes
Febuwhump 2024 - Day 10: Killing in Self-Defense
Fandom: The Bad Batch (Star Wars)
Characters: Caleb Dume
Word Count: 644
Content Warning: Depictions of Murder
Summary: Caleb is forced to go to extreme measures to survive.
***
The snow under his boots crunched with excruciating volume as Caleb raced down the mountain, practically blind to his surroundings. Light reflected off the snow, making everything way too bright. His heavy breathing was all he could hear, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would explode. It almost felt like his body was moving on its own as he tried to process everything that had happened. The clones, Master Billaba… He didn’t understand. Why did they turn on her? Caleb had fought alongside those clones for months, watching each other’s backs, learning each of their quirks, their personalities, their individuality… and they turned on him. They turned on her.
Then there was Clone Force 99. They claimed not to know what was going on, but Caleb didn’t believe it for a second. Crosshair had actively shot at him. There was no way they were trying to help. Hunter had tried to talk some sense into Caleb, tried to tell him that he was on the Padawan’s side, but Caleb didn’t listen. He ran from them, away from the battlefield, over the ravine, and away from harm.
At least, for now.
If the clones turned on Master Billaba, Caleb thought, then does that mean they killed all the Jedi?
Caleb tripped over a root, sending him tumbling down the hill. He clawed at the snow, trying to slow his fall to no avail. He landed at the bottom of the hill, his robes soaked and hair covered in snow, but he picked himself up and kept running. He saw a city in the distance and adjusted his course to head toward it, hoping to find some kind of news blaring on holoprojectors or chatter amongst the people. The trees began to thin out, allowing the sun to reflect off the snow. Caleb kept running, using his eyes to scan the scene, the Force to alert him of any danger.
The spike of awareness in his body signaled him before anything else.
Two blaster bolts whizzed past his head. He ducked and turned on his heels, diving for cover behind a tree. He whipped his lightsaber off his belt, straining his senses for the source of the attack. There was a presence five — no, six meters behind him, and they were getting closer. Definitely a clone.
Damn those traitors.
Without a second thought, Caleb mustered as much strength as he could and charged toward the clone, igniting his saber. He reached out with the Force and tore the clone’s gun away from his hands before jumping up, raising his blade high above his head, and bringing it down on the clone in blind rage.
He would make them pay for killing his Master.
Caleb used the Force to slow his descent, his boots cracking the snow just slightly. The anger boiling in his chest slowly faded as he inhaled the crisp air, Billaba’s voice echoing in his mind: Breathe, Caleb. Anger only leads to the dark side.
Caleb glanced over his shoulder at the fallen clone as his lightsaber deactivated. The soldier’s chest plate was still smoldering from where Caleb had struck him down, and his helmet seemed to have fallen off. Caleb approached the body, his stomach dropping as he got a closer look at the soldier’s face.
Styles. He had killed Styles.
The memories raced through Caleb’s mind, making him weak in the knees. Caleb had spent hours with Styles, Captain Grey’s right-hand man, working up battle plans, goofing around, and sparring under Billaba’s supervision. After Caleb’s friend, Stance, had died in battle, Styles had walked the young Padawan through the grief, helping him bounce back stronger.
And here he was, dead at Caleb’s own hands.
The sound of more clones snapped Caleb out of his thoughts. Hands clenched and stomach churning, he turned away from Styles and ran for the city.
***
Ultimate Masterlist
Febuwhump 2024 Masterlist
🫶�� Like, Comment, and Reblog 🫶🏽
4 notes
·
View notes
NASA Telescope Takes 12-Year Time-Lapse Movie of Entire Sky Pictures of the sky can show us cosmic wonders; movies can bring them to life. Movies from NASA’s NEOWISE space telescope are revealing motion and change across the sky. Every six months, NASA’s Near-Earth Object Wide Field Infrared Survey Explorer, or NEOWISE, spacecraft completes one trip halfway around the Sun, taking images in all directions. Stitched together, those images form an “all-sky” map showing the location and brightness of hundreds of millions of objects. Using 18 all-sky maps produced by the spacecraft (with the 19th and 20th to be released in March 2023), scientists have created what is essentially a time-lapse movie of the sky, revealing changes that span a decade. Each map is a tremendous resource for astronomers, but when viewed in sequence as a time-lapse, they serve as an even stronger resource for trying to better understand the universe. Comparing the maps can reveal distant objects that have changed position or brightness over time, what’s known as time-domain astronomy. “If you go outside and look at the night sky, it might seem like nothing ever changes, but that’s not the case,” said Amy Mainzer, principal investigator for NEOWISE at the University of Arizona in Tucson. “Stars are flaring and exploding. Asteroids are whizzing by. Black holes are tearing stars apart. The universe is a really busy, active place.” NEOWISE was originally a data processing project to retrieve asteroid detections and characteristics from WISE – an observatory launched in 2009 and tasked with scanning the entire sky to find and study objects outside our solar system. The spacecraft used cryogenically cooled detectors that made them sensitive to infrared light. Not visible to the human eye, infrared light is radiated by a plethora of cosmic objects, including cool, nearby stars and some of the most luminous galaxies in the universe. The WISE mission ended in 2011 after the onboard coolant – needed for some infrared observations – ran out, but the spacecraft and some of its infrared detectors were still functional. So in 2013, NASA repurposed it to track asteroids and other near-Earth objects, or NEOs. Both the mission and the spacecraft received a new name: NEOWISE. Growing Wiser Despite the shift, the infrared telescope has continued to scan the sky every six months, and astronomers have continued to use the data to study objects outside our solar system. For example, in 2020, scientists released the second iteration of a project called CatWISE: a catalog of objects from 12 NEOWISE all-sky maps. Researchers use the catalog to study brown dwarfs, a population of objects found throughout the galaxy and lurking in the darkness close to our Sun. Although they form like stars, brown dwarfs don’t accumulate enough mass to kick-start fusion, the process that causes stars to shine. Because of their proximity to Earth, nearby brown dwarfs appear to move faster across the sky compared to more distant stars moving at the same speed. So one way to identify brown dwarfs amid the billions of objects in the catalog is to look for objects that move. A complementary project to CatWISE called Backyard Worlds: Planet 9 invites citizen scientists to sift through NEOWISE data for moving objects that computer searches might have missed. With the original two WISE all-sky maps, scientists found about 200 brown dwarfs within just 65 light-years of our Sun. The additional maps revealed another 60 and doubled the number of known Y-dwarfs, the coldest brown dwarfs. Compared to warmer brown dwarfs, Y-dwarfs may have a stranger story to tell in terms of how they formed and when. These discoveries help illuminate the menagerie of objects in our solar neighborhood. And a more complete count of brown dwarfs close to the Sun tells scientists how efficient star formation is in our galaxy and how early it began. Watching the sky change over more than a decade has also contributed to studies of how stars form. NEOWISE can peer into the dusty blankets swaddling protostars, or balls of hot gas that are well on their way to becoming stars. Over the course of years, protostars flicker and flare as they accumulate more mass from the dust clouds that surround them. Scientists are conducting long-term monitoring of almost 1,000 protostars with NEOWISE to gain insights into the early stages of star formation. NEOWISE’s data has also improved understanding of black holes. The original WISE survey discovered millions of supermassive black holes at the centers of distant galaxies. In a recent study, scientists used NEOWISE data and a technique called echo mapping to measure the size of disks of hot, glowing gas surrounding distant black holes, which are too small and too distant for any telescope to resolve. “We never anticipated that the spacecraft would be operating this long, and I don’t think we could have anticipated the science we’d be able to do with this much data,” said Peter Eisenhardt, an astronomer at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory and WISE project scientist. More About the Mission NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California, manages and operates the NEOWISE mission for NASA's Planetary Defense Coordination Office within the Science Mission Directorate in Washington. The principal investigator, Amy Mainzer, is at the University of Arizona. The Space Dynamics Laboratory in Logan, Utah, built the science instrument. Ball Aerospace & Technologies Corp. of Boulder, Colorado, built the spacecraft. Science data processing takes place at IPAC at Caltech in Pasadena. Caltech manages JPL for NASA. JPL managed and operated WISE for NASA's Science Mission Directorate. Edward Wright at UCLA was the principal investigator. The mission was selected competitively under NASA's Explorers Program managed by the agency's Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland.
5 notes
·
View notes
I AM OBSESSED WITH YOUR KITSUNE SIBLINGS(?) CAN WE GET MORE 👀‼️
They are siblings! okay, I haven't written in like a month because of carpal tunnel and fatigue but. I love the Darling Siblings. they're unhinged. They're the three children of a kitsune their father Jack fell in love with in college and then had a bitter bitter fucking divorce with that led to her leaving him with the kids and ditching because he Fucked Up Big Time. So. Half-kitsune. Jack Darling is a whole other post but he's.... an archaeology professor with a penchant for finding cursed objects and absolutely zero fear of death or ability to be Cautious. He's pushing 60 and worries his kids Deeply. He was fired from his university job and now sort of softly robs private collections because he was like Well This Is All Stolen Anyway. Carrie, his youngest, adores him and wants to be just like him. She's a college student. Ford, his middle child, also adores him and Is just like him. He's a bartender. Harry.... is an accountant.
so! I wrote you a darling family holiday.
_____
It is 6.52pm, and Harry Darling has allotted himself seven more minutes of pretending he’s an orphan before he goes back out into the living room.
Unfortunately, his husband knows exactly what that look in his eyes means, and is having none of it.
“Sweetheart” Harry says, trying to keep his tone from pleading. “Isn’t there anything I can help you with? You must be so tired from cooking all day-”
Santos gives him the flat look of someone not buying his shit for a second. It’s a very familiar look. Harry wishes he could attribute his familiarity with it to their years of loving marriage, to knowing all of Santos’s looks, or to him having directed it at the children. In actuality, Harry is pretty sure he got that look at least twice the day they met and every day thereafter.
“Jack’s going to be here soon, isn’t he?”
Harry winces a little, and Santos sighs. “He’s your father-”
“I know-”
“And you love him.”
Harry sighs. “I do.”
“And you haven’t seen him in six months.”
“Because he got arrested.”
“And? We’ve bailed your siblings out of jail three times this winter.”
Harry frowns. “Three? When was the third?”
“This morning.”
“What?”
Santos waves him off, like he’s the one being hysterical, and pushes him towards the door. “Out of my kitchen, or I'm frying you with garlic butter or maybe basting you.”
“You can grease me up any time if you leave the frier out of it.” Harry jokes.
“The frier wouldn’t even hurt you, baby.” Santos smacks his ass, lightly. “Greasing you up later. Once the kids are asleep. Family time now.”
“Kill me.” Harry mutters.
“Ask Ford to tell you what he did last night, maybe you’ll finally get that heart attack i’ve been trying to save you from by lowering your cholesterol.”
“What-”
“Ask your brother.” Santos says, shoving his husband with ease despite Harry’s foot of height advantage. “Shoo. If you come back in here before I hear your father break something i’m going to make it rain on you on your way to work.”
Harry knows better than to call that bluff, so he just twists to kiss Santos’s forehead before he heads back out into the living room, immediately ducking as a football whizzes over his head.
He pops back up, glaring in the direction it came from, and is totally unsurprised to meet the eyes of his sister. She grins, sheepish.
“Oops?”
“What did I say about sports in the house.”
“I don’t know, actually, must have missed that.” She says, tapping her cheek. “Ford, what did he say about sports in the house?”
“Well, he let his kids run around with the ball.” Ford says, lounging on the couch. “So I think we should get a pass.”
“You are not my children.” Harry says, coming up behind the couch ford is on and tipping it forward, trying to dump him onto the ground. “My children have more maturity than you.”
“Hey, I can be plenty mature.” Ford says, popping his claws out and clinging to the couch automatically before he registers what he did. “-ssshhhiit, uh, I can buy you new seat covers.”
Harry sighs. “Don’t bother, I’ve got changeable ones on because the babies- nevermind. Prove you’re mature by acting like it, for once. What the fuck did you get arrested for?”
“Well, I think that’s evidence i’m not a kid.” Ford says, his grin audible. “Kids don’t get arrested for public indecency.”
Harry just flips the entire couch over on him and then sits on it, taking just a moment of satisfaction at his startled yelp before the doorbell rings, because of course, he can’t have anything.
“You gonna get that?” Carrie asks, innocently. “I mean it is your house.”
Harry eyes her, running calculations in his head, and then says--
“I’ll do your taxes for free if you hold him down till I get back.”
“Sold.” She says, immediately, jumping up.
“You fucking traitor!” Ford calls. “I’m gonna go fox and eat my way through this couch, so help me.”
“No you won’t.” Santos yells from the kitchen, and Ford winces.
“I misspoke! I would never do such a thing!” he yells.
Carrie hops on top of the back of the couch, still texting in one hand, and then tucks it away.
“You ready?” She asks Harry, unusually serious.
He sighs. “Ready as i’ll ever be.”
“You missed him.”
“Of course I did.”
Despite Carrie being the youngest, and thus the furthest from him, sometimes she had a knack for cutting through the fog in his head. Ford tended to break out a smoke machine. Carrie gently jabs his ribs. “It’ll be fine.”
“Shouldn’t his favorite child get the door?” he deadpans.
“Don’t be stupid.” Ford says, muffled, under the couch. “You’re still the eldest. Even if you are a fucking accountant.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence.” He mutters.
“You gave him grandkids.” Carrie says. “Come on, Harry. Don’t be stupid. Get the door.”
Harry half-smiles at her. He has a respectable career, a stable relationship, an established schedule and a domestic life. All of which means he has nothing in common with his father. He takes a deep breath.
“Here we go.” he mutters, and goes to get the door.
At least when all else failed, there were baby pictures.
7 notes
·
View notes
Potato Chip Crusted Chicken Tenders with Special Sauce
Hello my friends!!! How amazing it feels to be able to say and write those three simple words!!! It’s been a long “unwritten” spell here on Unwritten Recipes and I’m so sorry for that. I wish I could say that I’ve been absent from these pages cause we’ve been traveling around the world or that I’ve been too busy to post because one of my shows had taken off but the unfortunate and scary truth is that I’ve been sick…very…with breast cancer. Yeah, it stinks, I know. Surgeries, radiation and chemo have until very recently left me flat on my back (literally) and unable to cook anything, let alone photograph and write about it. But finally, finally I AM BACK, a little worse for the wear, but excited about food and to once again be able to share with you some delicious creations.
First up is this simple but truly yummy Potato Chip Crusted Chicken with Special Sauce. If you’re looking for an easy way to liven up boneless chicken breasts (and really, who isn’t?) you’re gonna love this easy and ever-so-crunchy approach!
Who among us does not love, love, love potato chips?!! They’re absolutely addictive, right? I’ve always been a huge fan, particularly of the kettle version, but I’ve never eaten more of them than I have in the last six months. As in bags and bags. For some reason during my treatment, even when the thought of eating has generally disgusted me, salty, slightly greasy potato chips always seemed appealing. Go figure!
Here they get ground up to make the irresistible coating for chicken tenders. And the process is super quick—just a short whizz in the food processor and you’re good to go. Or you can place the chips in an airtight bag, seal and crush with a hammer or rolling pin—great for getting out any aggression!!
Then it’s just a matter of dredging the tenders in flour and dipping them in beaten eggs before coating them generously in the crushed chips.
Now, while the tenders are baking, you can mix up the special sauce which is nothing more than mayo, ketchup, horseradish and a few spices but adds so much tangy dipping deliciousness that it is just a must-have with these tenders every time I make them. FYI, this sauce is also amazing on sandwiches or as dip for raw veggies!
The chicken bakes up so crispy-crunchy and tender and the special sauce provides such a great flavor and textural contrast. Add a side salad and you’ve got yourself the perfect weeknight summery meal. Easy-peasy and done! YUM!!! Make them once and I guarantee they’ll become a huge family favorite.
Boy is it good to be back! Thanks so much for sticking with me! Gosh, I’ve missed you guys!!!!
Potato Chip Crusted Chicken Tenders with Special Sauce
Makes 5-6 servings
Prep Time: 20 minutes; Bake Time: 20-25 minutes
Ingredients
For the chicken
Non-stick baking spray (the olive oil version or whatever you like)
1 ½-2 pounds skinless boneless chicken breasts cut into strips to make tenders (or of course you could buy pre-cut chicken tenders)
Kosher salt
Black pepper
Garlic powder
Generous 12 ounces potato chips (that’s about 1 1/2 bags and I always use the cape cod kettle version but feel free to use any brand or flavor you like—just make sure you have enough cause you don’t want to be short on the coating
All-purpose, unbleached flour
2 large eggs
For the special sauce
Generous ½ cup of mayonnaise
3 teaspoons ketchup (you can use more if you like a sweeter sauce)
1 ½-2 tablespoons prepared horseradish (the kind you find in the refrigerated section of the supermarket)
⅛ teaspoon garlic powder
A generous pinch of paprika, kosher salt and black pepper
The Recipe
To make the chicken: Preheat your oven to 425 F with the oven rack in the center. Place a large wire rack inside of a large rimmed baking sheet and spray the rack generously with the nonstick cooking spray. Don’t skip this step or all the lovely coating on the bottom of the tenders will stick to the rack😂😂
Place the chips in the food processor and grind till they become like crumbs with some bigger pieces still visible (I usually do this in batches) and transfer to a plate or shallow bowl and set aside.
Place about ½ cup of flour on a plate or shallow bowl and set aside.
Beat the eggs in a shallow bowl and set aside.
Season the chicken with a little salt, pepper and garlic powder. Now, one at a time, dredge the chicken pieces into the flour, shaking off any excess, then into the beaten eggs making sure the chicken is well coated and finally into the crushed potato chips, pressing down so that both sides are well coated.
Place each piece on the prepared baking sheet. When all the pieces have been transferred, spray the tops with a little more of the nonstick cooking spray. This helps to make the chicken even more golden brown and crunchy.
Bake the chicken for 20-25 minutes until the pieces are entirely cooked through and golden brown on the outside. Immediately transfer them to a plate using tongs, otherwise they may stick to the rack. You can now serve these right away or make several hours ahead and reheat in a 350 F oven for 10 minutes to crisp up.
To make the sauce: while the chicken is cooking or even days before, place the mayo, ketchup, horseradish and spices in a medium bowl and mix together well. Taste, adjust any seasonings if necessary and store in an airtight container in the fridge for up to one week.
Enjoy!
5 notes
·
View notes
My "Buddy" Santa (Short Story)
Rated: T
Fandom: Original/Christmas Lore
Relationship Type: M/M
Description: In the months following Mrs Claus's death, Santa has relied on an elf from his factory for comfort. To show his affection, he gives him various gifts and the two cuddle together. But the two of them have gotten too close, and the elf wants more out of the relationship than presents.
Content Warning: Mourning the pre-story death of a character
The sound of Michael Bublé on repeat almost hid the low electronic buzz. Almost.
Santa Clause was in a three-month long Bublé mood for reasons unbeknownst to anyone but a singular elf.
Those weren’t the only sounds, though. Eccentric whizzes of spinning machine arms, the cranks of levers, cogs turning. Most importantly, quiet chatter and occasional grumbles.
Rows upon rows of green and red-clad elves sat and packed toys into boxes. They did their ribbon-adorned origami quickly enough to catch up to the toy-making machines. At one end of the aquatic centre-sized room was a row of desks with elves dressed in gold and silver filling in paperwork. The workload had doubled in the past month due to a certain upcoming holiday.
A bright-faced, chubby, tall elf with curly hair as rosy as her cheeks walked down an aisle. Her gold and silver dress swayed back and forth as she moved, shimmying when she tapped a short elf on the shoulder.
‘Passing on a message from Mr Claus. Your new present is in your room, Bellomir.’
Laughter flanked the Bellomir on both sides. He groaned and sank into his seat, his scowl visible from the South Pole. He instinctively twirled the black curl sticking out of his pointy hat.
A stocky elf with a buzz cut nudged him in his ribs. “What do ya bet you got this time? A Rolex? A convertible?’
A waifish elf with long, flowing locks in a low ponytail grabbed Bellomir’s hat and rubbed it over his head until it mussed his hair, musical giggles playing from her mouth.
‘Maybe he finally went crazy and gave you the deed to a platinum mine!’ she added.
The red on Bellomir’s shirt was a dead ringer for the colour in his cheeks. He gave both his coworkers a death glare before looking up at the speakers on the roof. Throughout all of this, the three elves were still packing just as efficiently as before.
‘You guys have been listening to this song too much.’
‘Well, I guess Mr Claus plays what he wants,’ Mistlebo the stocky elf said with a shrug.
‘I think I’ve heard this song at least five times today. Did any of the other Bublé songs repeat this much?’
Snowren the waifish elf stroked her chin. ‘I think I heard ‘It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas’ a few times.’
‘But not five,’ Bellomir retorted with a sigh.
The messenger elf returned. ‘Passing on a message from Mr Claus. Meet Mr Claus at 7:16 tonight. Bring the hot chocolate and the present to open upon arrival.’
The laughter returned as well. ‘Looks like Mr Claus thinks you’re his best buddy,’ Mistlebo remarked.
Bellomir’s mouth contorted into half a smile and half a frown. ‘Yeah, Santa’s my buddy, alright.’
Two hours and one more ‘Santa Baby’ later, Bellomir hung up his hat and clocked out of work. He rushed to his room and picked up the present and hot chocolate. It was a modest one-bedroom apartment sandwiched between a hundred or so identical ones. The only difference in his room was the mountain of various gifts in the corner, torn wrapping paper sticking out at every angle like branches on a Christmas tree.
After eating a microwave dinner, he looked at his watch. ‘Jingleberries,’ he muttered under his breath. He put on his black coat and ran out of his room. He went up the stairs to the top floor, passing by the public dining hall and the toy research facility.
A red door with an emerald green wreath stood on the top floor. Bellomir knocked it six times, playing ‘Jingle Bells’ in his head.
A friendly old voice rumbled through the door. ‘Come in, come in!’
Bellomir closed his eyes, took a deep breath and opened the door. The dark air cracked with frequent little bursts of orange as the fireplace blazed. Some instrumental jazz music played from a forties-style radio. Above the gold-trimmed marble mantle hung a framed photograph of Mr and Mrs Claus.
A tall crimson velvet chair stood beside a little wooden table by the fire. The fireplace hid the man sitting there in silhouette, though the light captured the curves of his protruding cheeks. A glimmering teardrop ran down his face as he hummed the melody on the radio.
Santa Claus still maintained his round shape but had lost a noticeable amount of weight over the past few months. His coat hung from his body like it was on a coat rack, and his eyes were sunken in to an almost skeletal degree. His kitchen was untouched and had been that way since the incident, at least as far as Bellomir could tell. He had only started visiting after that event transpired. A couple of takeout boxes littered the floor, though not enough to match Santa’s pre-incident eating habits.
The jolly old man turned his head and showed Bellomir a smile one could roast chestnuts on. ‘Come closer, my dear boy.’
Bellomir frowned at that. Did he look young enough to earn that title? He was an elf. Still, he obliged, placing the can of hot chocolate atop the kitchen bench as he waddled over to the man.
He sat on Santa’s lap and looked up at his face, now illuminated by the flames before them. Santa’s eyes egged him on. Bellomir sighed and tore open the package.
Inside was a sweater the shade of pine leaves, a deer and the words ‘Merry Christmas’ stitched in with white wool. Bellomir couldn’t help but match Santa’s grin.
The man wrapped his arms around Bellomir’s waist and held him to his solid chest. Despite his sturdy hold, he dropped his chin onto the elf’s shoulder with the insecurity of a child looking for their parents’ approval.
‘Did you like the gift?’
‘If it’s from you, why wouldn’t I-’
‘Don’t beat around the bush, Bello. The truth, boy. Out with it.’
‘I like it.’
‘Good, good.’ Santa kept his arms around Bellomir but lifted his head from his shoulder. He looked up at the photograph. ‘She always loved sweaters. She used to knit me one almost every week. I wish she could have taught me more.’ His words caught in his throat, turning his voice raspy. ‘But I’m still proud of this one. I made a few mistakes but I doubt you’ll be able to spot them.’ His belly laugh resounded through Bellomir’s chest.
Santa gently rubbed his thumbs against Bellomir’s arms, and the elf relaxed into his embrace. For the next five minutes, the only sounds were the intermittent crackle of the fireplace and the slow breaths that, after some time, perfectly synchronised.
Eventually, Bellomir offered an alternative to the silence. ‘Feeling better?’ He asked with the corners of his lips reaching his pink cheeks. Santa nodded, his head stroking Bellomir’s back.
‘You’re always so comforting.’
Bellomir gazed at the photograph, focusing on Mrs Claus’ beaming face. He looked away and clenched his hands into fists, inadvertently scratching his thighs in the process.
‘Do… you have any other elves that do this?’ He asked as he twirled a strand of his hair.
‘Of course not.’
Bellomir cranked his head to an angle and bit his lip before speaking. ‘Why me? I don’t exactly look like her.’ His voice carried more venom than anticipated, but he wasn’t taking it back.
Santa let go and curled his fists. ‘You think I’d just use you as a replacement?’ His voice carried concern, but his words were just a little louder than what he said before.
To match his energy, Bellomir glared up at the once-jolly man. ‘Isn’t that what you’re doing? Isn’t that the whole point of this?’
Santa spluttered nonsense, his brain containing no words to the contrary. Bellomir hopped off his lap, causing the wrapping paper to fall onto the wine-coloured carpet. He looked down at the sweater in his hands and pushed it back onto Santa’s lap.
‘I don’t need this,’ he said before turning his back and walking out the door.
The next day at work contained the same old drudgery of the previous. Mistlebo’s elbow attacks gave Bellomir a crushing sense of deja vu.
‘How were things last night with your new buddy Santa?’
Bellomir sank into his seat again, his growl almost louder than the machines.
‘Didn’t like the gift?’ Snowren asked without looking away from the present before her.
Bellomir hesitated, then gave a small smile as he carefully wrapped his present. ‘The gift was nice. It was heartfelt and sweet. He made it himself and everything.’ Another sigh left his lips. ‘But that’s just it. At the end of the day, it’s another gift.’
Mistlebo scoffed at that. ‘If someone handmade me a gift, I’d be pretty grateful.’ Bellomir bit the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with a retort but finding none.
The messenger elf walked up to him. ‘Passing on a message from Mr Claus-’
‘Tell him I don’t want to see him,’ Bellomir said flatly.
She blinked. ‘Excuse me?’ Several elves in the factory turned their heads.
‘I don’t want to see him…’ He suddenly remembered the warmth of the fireplace threading through the warmth of Santa’s arms like a hand-knit Christmas sweater. ‘…today. Tell him to invite me tomorrow.’
‘V… very well, then. Do you still want me to relay the message?’
Bellomir waved his hand dismissively and went back to work. The elves who had a quick entertainment break rushed to catch up with the machines. Toys began to pile up on the conveyor belts, pushing up against each other and falling off the belts.
While still working on their presents, Mistlebo and Snowren looked at Bellomir out the corner of their concerned eyes. Then they looked back at their gifts as if nothing had happened.
Despite the chill of the night, Bellomir lay atop his quilt on his bed, the crack in his ceiling the only object in his view. He played with a curl in his hair as images flashed through his mind like reels in stereo slide viewer glasses.
Santa standing in the factory beside the desks like he used to, staring at Bellomir for some reason. The red outlines of his eyes from rubbing them too much. The mugs of hot chocolate on the little table by the fire as Bellomir reached out to hug Santa for the first time. Santa’s first gift, a bottle of cologne with a leathery scent. A messenger elf walking up to Bellomir and making the short elf realise that Santa was no longer in the factory.
Mrs Claus smiling as she handed the elves cookies. Santa giving her a peck on the lips with his arm around her waist. Mrs Claus coughing over and over again. Elves wearing black during the ceremony. A tear sliding down a silhouetted Santa’s face as he looked up at the framed photo.
Bellomir blinked, his nose itching as he finally noticed his own tears. When he started to shiver, he considered pulling the covers over him, but he figured they couldn’t compete with the cosiness of Santa’s arms.
He turned his head to the gold alarm clock beside his bed, another gift from Old Saint Nick. It was 3 in the morning. Should he? Was he crazy?
The next thing he knew, he was knocking on the big red door in two bursts of three. He heard the gasp of someone just waking up.
‘Uh, come in, my dear boy, come in.’ Santa was still sitting in his chair, a carton of eggnog and a small bottle of brandy beside a shot glass on the table. There were dark bags under his eyes but his smile was bright. The fireplace was still ablaze. No music was playing this time. ‘What brings you here?’
‘I guess… I wanted to talk.’ Bellomir looked at the eggnog on the table, his heart twisting. ‘But first, have you had much to drink?’
Santa shook his head. ‘I didn’t have much, and I’m pretty sure I slept off what I did have. He lifted his bottom off the chair and used his big, beefy arms to pull it around to face Bellomir. Despite now being away from the fireplace, his cheeks were rosier than usual. ‘So what’s, uh, going on, Bello?’
Bellomir finally noticed that the Christmas sweater was on the floor next to the table, yet it was folded perfectly. Santa grabbed it, unravelled it and held it up in front of his face. ‘Did you change your mind about the gift? You said earlier that you liked it. Was that a lie?’
The elf took slow steps towards Santa, and when he finally got up to him, he pulled the sweater down so they were staring face to face. He raised his leg until his knee was on Santa’s lap. Santa blinked, his cheeks getting redder and redder. Their hands met as they held onto the sweater, sending a little spark synced with a crackling sound from the fireplace.
‘I like your gifts, but there’s one little thing I really need.’
‘Oh, a fur coat?’
Bellomir wrapped his hands around Santa’s cheeks, brushing his thumb against the man’s lips.
‘All I want for Christmas is you.’ Just as Bellomir started to lean in closer, Santa turned his head away.
‘I-I’m flattered, but you’re my employee. I mustn’t-’
‘Oh, so you can’t kiss me but you can treat me like your sugar baby?’
Santa turned his head back around to face him. ‘I’m Santa Claus! What else can I do to show my affection besides giving you gifts?’
‘Oh, so you do like me,’ Bellomir whispered into his ear, running his hand down his cheek. ‘If you want to show affection, just be honest with me.’ He snatched the sweater. ‘You put a lot of effort into making this, but why? Why did you choose me, Nicholas?’
Santa gulped as his eyes darted around the room, always avoiding Bellomir’s gaze. ‘Well, I, uh, I don’t know. I was just drawn to you for some reason. I thought you seemed lonely like me. You were the only one in the factory not doing small talk.’
Memories of chatting with Snowren and Mistlebo played in Bellomir’s mind. What was Santa talking about? He always conversed with people… He suddenly remembered the truth. Those memories were from after starting this situationship with Santa. Love filled Bellomir’s heart, almost overflowing into tears.
‘I wanted a friend, honest!’ Santa added. ‘But then you hugged me that night, and everything changed.’ He scratched his own cheek. ‘I kind of like it when you take charge.’ He sighed. ‘But, to go any further when you work for me…’
‘Alright, then. I’ll get another job. I hear the reindeer barn is looking for work.’
‘But I still work with them-’
‘At least I won’t be working under you.’
‘Are you really willing to go this far? You’d have to move out of your apartment-’
‘Can I move into yours, then?’ Bellomir asked with his pointer finger against Santa’s chest. He leaned in closer and whispered in his ear again. ‘Please, Nicholas?’ When he leant back, he spotted the golden frame of the photo of Mr and Mrs Claus. He closed his eyes and spoke at the speed of the machine in the factory. ‘If you think Mrs Claus would be okay with it. You’re still grieving, after all. It’s only been a few months and I’d hate to interrupt that process-’
A belly laugh from Santa roared through the room. ‘You’re really worried about that? She would be happy to see me happy.’ He smirked and whispered in Bellomir’s ear. ‘In fact, we occasionally brought in a third person.’
Now Bellomir’s cheeks were reddening. ‘I… I see.’
Santa reached behind Bellomir’s head and threaded his fingers through his curls. ‘May I, my dear Bello?’ he asked as he took a candy cane from the pocket, unwrapped it with one hand and bit a big piece off. He speedily chewed it into smaller pieces and swallowed it all.
The answer was given not by words but by a peck on the lips, which quickly became another one, then a series of deeper kisses that went on for several blissful minutes. The scent of eggnog and brandy was still on Santa’s breath, but the minty taste of the candy cane mostly covered it. Bellomir thanked Santa’s courteousness with more kissing. Despite the icy coolness of the peppermint, everything else about Santa was warm and comforting, from his arm wrapped around Bellomir’s waist, pulling him closer, to his soft lips. The couple’s movements were slow and delicate but passionate.
When they finally pulled themselves away, Bellomir sat on his lap and cuddled him. They silently stayed in the chair, Santa resting his chin on Bellomir’s head as he ran his fingers through his hair. Eventually, Bellomir buried the fireplace in cool ashes until the flames went out, hopped back on his lap, and rested in his big, cosy arms.
‘Good night, Baby,’ Bellomir whispered as he drifted into a pleasant sleep. Snow began to fall outside, but neither man could feel the cold.
1 note
·
View note
7/20/23: It was 50 years ago today, July 20th, 1973, Mott the Hoople would release their sixth record, simply titled Mott (their next album would be titled The Hoople... clever lads). This record is probably the pinnacle of the band's creativity... they definitely soaked in the Glam Rock from the previous breakthrough album All the Young Dudes, but this album steps slightly away from it and definitely sounds somehow... I dunno, wiser? Like they had some commercial success with that record's title track, but this record seems to reject the stardom approach and really doesn't have any big hit singles. The lead-off track certainly could have been a hit, and actually it was a Top Ten hit in the U.K... weird that it wasn't anything here, I mean it just screams Rock from the era, but alas no. It's a hell of a banger, and it has this great extended, almost atonal, guitar versus saxophone jam at the end... got this wonderful, infectious piano opening... just rollicking, very enjoyable... especially if played loud, because you're head-bangin' along at the end of every verse. If you watch the early Scorsese film Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore, this is the opening song that the kid is listening too (also very loudly). I like track two 'Whizz Kid' almost better... not sure if it is autobiographical from one of the members, but it's about living with an NYC woman, and it has some kind of cutting lyrics about just about everyone involved... it's a great guitar riff, and the bridge is super-cool. Now the two songs on the record I don't care for are somewhat similar: 'Hymn For the Dudes' and 'Ballad of Mott the Hoople'... both are slow and epic and talk about the band's experiences thus far. I just can't get into them... readers know how patient I am with slow songs... they'd better be really good! I think 'Honaloochie Boogie' has got a real pretty melody that springs out of the speakers at the start... Mick Ralphs being awesome on guitar, as usual. Before I speak further, I think this is Ian Hunter at his best, with his overly snotty voice it works with the material, especially on 'Boogie' and the proto-punk 'Violence'. But I want to say that Ralphs tears it up on a two-part song (much like on the previous record) with 'I’m a Cadillac / El Camino Dolo Roso'... I think I mentioned on the last two album reviews how much of an underrated voice he has... not as good as 'Ready For Love / After Lights' but still great. Ralphs would leave after this record and form Bad Company, which we will not get to (for better or for worse). 'Drivin' Sister' is exactly what it sounds like, a driving Rock & Roll tune. I used to not care for the album closer 'I Wish I Was Your Mother' but listening to it as a much older person than when I heard it last, there is something sweet and gentle about the kind of wistful melody. The more I write this blog the worse my creative mind rotates, so I'm glad I'm less than six months away from its completion--but there are still SO many records between now and then that are great, including this one. I really don't think this record would offend anyone... if you don't know it, give it Spotify spin. Also, they had two different album covers (I have the first one with the band as it was the U.S. cover... second one released in the U.K. is unique tho).
0 notes
Reasons You Might Actually Need a House Cleaner
You might be just one of the lots of individuals who take pride in maintaining their own houses. Oftentimes people who get housekeeping service are taken a look at as spenders or even outright careless. There are many reasons you may note warranting not having a caretaker but have you considered why you might need one? Below are some factors that might convince you.
You have senior parents
Right here is a factor that will certainly not assist you straight. If you have moms and dad( s) that are rather aged and also are living alone, the lure exists to decrease in and also help them out as long as possible. It is a worthy thing no doubt regarding it however what you may not have thought about is you have various other points to do. Possibilities are you care for your house as well as go to function also. You may have children also as well as these will definitely take your time. A lot of your time. You can really feel guilty about missing out on cleansing days at your moms and dads' home or you can hire a housekeeper for them. It will certainly provide you peace of mind and an opportunity to really enjoy with them rather than doing tasks the whole time you are there.
There is a new baby
After having your kid, it is normal to have thoughts of being the ideal partner. Thoughts of you whizzing around caring for your child as well as your house are enticing right? I mean, just how hard can it be? Individuals are unquestionably different and also your neighbor with three children makes it look easy. The reality is a brand-new youngster will take a great deal of your time. They will certainly require your attention extra times than your bills. Eventually you will need to yield on this concept, връзка към уебсайта and also accept help. You may in fact be glad you will certainly be when you get it.
Your timetable is complete
It does not matter that you live alone. When your day starts at six as well as ends at 9, you will certainly be too tired to do any type of cleaning not to mention a fifty percent decent work. Who wants to return from a long strenuous day at work to begin another? It is the factor get are so popular. You do not need to get an everyday housekeeper however a normal one once a month will certainly be most welcome. Thoughts of complimentary weekends sound like a plausible suggestion to take on the household chores. The only caveat is you might not get to have weekend breaks without strategies.
The response to finding out if the information on the application is true is by running a public documents check. Public documents provide information such as previous addresses, marital relationships, divorces, as well as also criminal court records. This way you will certainly have the ability to see the documents on the caretaker and discover if the previous addresses are proper in addition to learn if the person has a criminal record.
Lots of private detectives are utilizing on the internet background check companies, such as Public Records Pro. The main factor this holds true is that this firm has done all the legwork and also put together the history of over 400 million people in their easy to search data source.
A live-in maid is very important for a lot of households especially amongst family members who have a busy way of life, demanding work routine and taxing work as well as careers. Having someone to do the work at home such as the cleaning, food preparation as well as laundry ends up being a need in such scenarios. Still, it is essential to make the effort to speak with an applicant for the security of your house.
The following are relevant questions that you need to ask a potential live-in caretaker throughout a meeting. Take your time throughout the meeting in order to get to know the candidate better as well as locate the best one that fulfills your preferences.
0 notes
for the past six months, maddy had been remembering the train that transported her to the place of her dreams. whereas before, her memories would begin at the destination -- a space station, a winter wonderland, a dance session with madonna -- now they started with her waking up on the train. she wondered if the passenger carriage was tailored to her own imagination, or if everyone saw the same futuristic splendor: the glass ceilings and walls and hovering touch screens, complete with a secret tea station and magic oven.
in the beginning, maddy had merely been ecstatic just to remember the train, that souvenir a blessing and triumph in and of itself. yet as time passed, she grew more curious. though she was an expert with lucid dreaming, this little locomotive proved more difficult to control. once at her destination, maddy could conjure anything she wished: flying puppies, the sts-7 challenger, a palace made of candy kisses. but it was different on the train, as if there were some invisible barrier her imagination would continuously collide with. after struggling for two months, however, she was finally able to exit her cabin into the halls, envisioning a series of buttons and levers that would open the door.
unfortunately, it was much less exciting than maddy had anticipated, containing other special carriages she could not enter. there were rows of seats with passengers in the open space too, yet . . . they all seemed to be in a dreamy haze, incapable of carrying a conversation. they’d walk to the doors when they arrived at their proper station, but until then, they were more or less sleeping. with that disappointing discovery, maddy turned her interest back to her own passenger carriage, toying with the design until she reached her destination. it was weeks later when she was babysitting a neighbor and watching the polar express when her curiosity was piqued again. the conductor in that film was one of the chief characters, and it had maddy wondering . . . was there a conductor in the dream train too?
she had to find out.
it takes some practice at first. with there being so many different passenger cars, the trek to the front of the train is lengthy. during multiple attempts, maddy spends her whole sleeping hours just traveling through the train, waking up in mental exhaustion. but then she realizes she doesn’t have to walk. in the safety of her carriage, maddy manages to whip up a bicycle. with several gears. and then it’s fast sailing to the front of the train, the girl whizzing down the aisle in order to meet the conductor. when she first arrives at the end of the train, she only finds a wall, not a door, but -- maddy had been in this world long enough to know that wasn’t necessarily a fact. with a bit of work, she uncovers a handle, and she takes it with her heart pounding all the while. but before opening the door, maddy knocks with her free hand; best give them a polite warning before entering without technical permission.
inside, maddy’s surprised to discover a pretty girl about her age with bleached blonde hair and dark eyeliner, kicked back with her headphones. she doesn’t look like any conductor maddy’s ever seen or imagined -- more like the type to sit at the back of stat class while tuning out the teacher and drawing.
. . . then again, maybe this job is perfect for that sort of person.
❝ . . . hi, ❞ maddy starts, after forgetting to speak for a second. ❝ sorry, i hope i’m not disturbing you, ❞ she chuckles, inviting herself inside and closing the door decisively behind her. ❝ but as a frequent passenger, i just wanted to thank you for all your hard work, ❞ she beams at the young conductor. ❝ i’m a big fan. ❞ she does always bring maddy to the place she wants to visit the most. ( @feveredblurs )
1 note
·
View note