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berrys-hide-out · 4 months ago

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Mischief in the early morning

Summary; Reader has been dating Loki for a little while now, in the morning your horrible joke made his mischief flare up and he won’t let you go back to sleep because you had training in a little while. Well he might. But only because you can make him practically melt.

Warnings; Kisses, tickling

lee!Reader Ler!Loki

It had happened awfully slow, but painfully obvious for those around.

You were always amazed by the gods wit and mischievous nature, being quite playful yourself you often found yourself pranking along with him and sometimes even being at the other end of the pranks too yet it was always in good fun, nobody got hurt, maybe a small scare but it always ended in hearty laughter and cursing.

The god himself was in denial at first, but you were the first mortal to ever enjoy his company so incredibly obviously, waiting for him on game or movie nights to sit down only for you to sit next to him so you could joke about the movie or just tease him without a second thought.

It was refreshing for him to be by your side, your brazen actions intrigued him, sometimes even confused him, you were mortal yet you were always challenging yourself and enjoying yourself to the fullest. And before any of the two of you could really say it aloud, worrying or loving glances were sent the others way and cheeky smirks took over when the flirting achieved rosy cheeks or ears, you understood enough without exchanging a word.

And so here you were.

Warm and comfortable in his embrace, eyes closed, enjoying the comfort of your fluffy PJ’s, one of his hands over you, going over your upper waist and slid in to hold your wrist.

His other was tucked in somewhere between your head, pillow and mattress.

A soft sigh left your lips, man, this moment could just go on and on, and never stop. Loki was breathing deeply behind you, signalling that he was still very much asleep.

You slowly opened your eyes and smiled at the sight that greeted you. The morning sunbeams that filtered through the cracks of the curtains painted the wooden furniture in a wonderful soft orange light.

Carefully you lifted Lokis hand and placed a soft kiss on the top of his hand before letting your fingers slide over it tenderly.

As your eyes grew heavier again you let them flutter shut, Just then Loki shuffled and pulled you closer with a soft huff as his nose buried itself into your hair. His hand cupped one of your own and your lips lifted contently “good morning” you whispered, your voice a lot smaller then you had anticipated.

“Good morning darlin’” he muttered and nuzzled your neck. The surprisingly ticklish sensation made you scrunch up and grin involuntarily which earned you an amused, rough from sleep, chuckle from the god. “Ticklish?” He asked and his hand slipped from your hands to your waist.

You turned just enough to look at Loki and scold him for daring to imply such nonsense but once His eyes locked on yours, you felt a blush spread over your cheeks and all witty comments shortly dissolved on your tongue.

The sunbeams marked him out beautifully and the reflection from the wall gave his eyes a beautiful afterglow, and the still slightly sleepy smirk. Gods.

“Like what you see?” He grinned and your eyes widened slightly before your eyebrows narrowed and a small smirk fell onto your face. “Yeah. I Loki what I see.” You said with a slightly cheeky grin on your features.

Loki looked baffled at your horrid wordplay before growling and burying his face in your neck with munching noises and nose nuzzles.

“Pf-ahAHaha! LohoHOki nooo!” You whined and pressed against him to make the touch less featherlight all while you turned back to your original position with scrunched up shoulders. Your knees came up and your hands held another by your chest as gleeful mixed with sleepy giggles filled the room like a melody. Instead of answering your protest he growled again awfully close to your ear, the sound made your hair stand up and a high pitched squeak fell from your lips “HEhehey! That— Thehehe, Lohoki ihihit tihIhickles!” You protested half heartedly.

Loki sniggered and pulled you close again as you’d moved away ever so slightly. “That’s what it’s supposed to do dove” He hummed and moved to loom over you. A warm feeling pooled in your chest and you turned your head to look at him with a warm but shy smile “you’re such a gremlin.” You teased and reached for him with your free hand that you weren’t resting on, thinking he was done with his mischief.

The only warning that this wasn’t the case before his hand wriggled in your armpit was a grin and a playful shimmer in his eyes. “Says you.”

“LOHOKI NAHAO!” You screeched and clamped your arm back down in an instant. The maddening sensation this early in the morning surprised you and made you kick out and buck underneath him like a fish on a hook. His fingers were quick to find that dreaded spot right in the middle and he started lightly pressing in and turning his fingers slightly over and over again.

“WOAHAHA! LOHOHOKI I CAHAHANT!” You cried out through the tickles, the sensation was driving you crazy- how does he know these kinds of tricks?! Damn it!

His hands mercifully moved down your sides and your squealing and screeching turned to bubbly-airy laughter. Your hands raced to fight him off but he was faster and quite a bit more skilled then you and he moved to your stomach.

The sensation made you cackle and throw your head back, instantly trying to roll over to your side to hide your stomach from him.

The god clicked his tongue and chuckled, quickly squeezing your hip “LOHOKI!” You exclaimed and turned back onto your back which he used to instantly attack your stomach again.

“AHAhaHa! noHOho moHOhore! BreHEhehak!”

Loki sniggered and let up, holding you by your waist and listening to the last lingering giggles.

You turned to look at him and he cupped your cheek and brushed the hair out of your sweetly crimson face. His eyes lingered on your features for a second longer, savouring the sight of your red cheeks and wide smile.

“Good morning.” He mused

A silly grin fell onto your lips at his lovingly playful gaze and you rolled your eyes “good morning.” “We’re going to have to get up soon.” He said softly which instantly turned your grin into a pout. “You look like someone kicked a puppy dove” Loki sniggered in amusement “I wanna cuddle, I think it’s perfectly fair to look like that!” You argued and latched onto Loki. He lowered himself slightly so you didn’t have to climb up to latch around him completely.

“But we have training in 20 minutes love.”

You studied his features for a moment and thought for a second before coming to the conclusion that he wanted to stay in bed just as much as you and only wanted to get out because he wanted to be the mature one of the two of you. So in one swift motion you made him topple over to his side and move onto him.

“Mno” your protest muffled into his chest as you laid on him, making yourself extra heavy to ensure he stays... well he’s a god if he really wanted to he could easily lift you off but A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest and his hands entwined over your back. “Alright…” he sighed in defeat.

You grinned and looked up in triumph before nuzzling and making it comfortable for yourself on him. That was easy, maybe a bit too easy but who were you to complain?

It didn’t take long until the warmth of the room and his slightly cool ‘body warmth’ let you fall back into a sense of security and comfort, letting rest take over your body.

A soft sensation trailed over your back which made you sigh in content, “that’s nice.” You muttered, only getting a deep chuckle and a kiss on your head in return.

“You comfortable darling?” “Mhmm” Loki sniggered and let his fingers travel up to your shoulder blades and down again, leaving small circles and wavy lines in their wake until they got to your sides.

Your breath hitched and you held your breath until his hand went back to your back. A moment later his fingers began fiddling with your shirt and let his fingers slip under to travel over your bare back.

The feeling made you melt even further into him and goosebumps travelled over your arms in content, but the tingly feeling now shot ticklish shocks up your spine, ultimately also more present and just a few swipes more broke your resolve and soft titters left your lips.

Fighting with yourself for a second you kept your arms up to keep your head elevated and hide yourself from your cheeky partner.

“Are we going to get up love?” You shook your head. “No? Darling we won’t have time for pancakes today morning then.” He huffed “I promised some last night remember? And you said you knew a nice apple recipe we could try out.” He teased lightly. His fingers travelling up and down your sides and it took a surprising amount of effort to not yank your arms down. Being an agent you had a hell lot of stamina and you decided then and there to keep them up- cause you wanted to stay in bed and cuddle for once damn it!

Loki smiled lovingly at you, gods you were precious. The fact you, an always on guard and fierce agent, trusted him enough for these games melted his heart and made him all the more happy to be your partner. Your shoulders and back shook with giggles, but you stubbornly kept your head down.

“Wehehe won’t hahave time for pahancakes anywahahays!” You complained “wehehe’ll hahAHave to do thehem after trai-HehEHeh trahahaihIHiheHE!” You groaned through your giggles when you failed twice at the same word.

Loki meanwhile, clearly amused figuring the rumble in his chest and the small bouts of chuckles coming from his lips, he decided it was a great idea to keep going and instead be a little cheeky about it.

“What did you say darling? What are you trying to tell me?” He asked sickening sweetly. You shook your head and looked up to send him a glare but you were betrayed by your own bright smile and continuous giggles. Loki smirked up at you “decided to let me see your beautiful face dove?”

Your eyes widened before a soft whine fell form your lips and you hid your face again, holding up a middle finger which made Loki bark a laugh. “oHOho, no i don’t think so!” He growled and his arms locked you to his chest before his fingers drilled into the sides of your stomach.

“AHA! LoHOKI-HEE! NAhAhao! THAHaHayas cheHEHEAting!” “Oh is it darling? And your foul expression was fine?” You shook your head “bEHEhettehr thEHen THiHIhis!”

Loki tutted and upped his game by going just above your hips and softly scratching there

Your laughter perked up an octave and got louder as your whole body shook with it. “NAHahAha! OHOKAHAY! OHOKAY! IHihI’m SaHAha- SoHOHorry!” You cried and your arms went to hug him as you let your head fall onto him. Loki sniggered at the adorable reaction of yours and started prepping your neck with tickly kisses.

You squeaked in surprise and Loki let up on your sides, changing to just holding you hostage, prepping you with tickly kisses all over your neck and once you turned, your yaw and face weren’t safe either.

You couldn’t help the silly giggles that escaped you as you enjoyed his affection and Loki sniggered through some of them himself at the silly and playful air that filled the room.

He let up after a little while and you two simply laid there. “You’re still a gremlin” you teased. “You’re asking for it now” he warned with a low growl “My gremlin?” You offered sweetly and Lokis eyes softened before he rolled them and gave you a small peck on the nose “fine”

You grinned in delight and Loki huffed, turning both of you to your sides, he grabbed the blanket again and pulled it over the two of you.

Your eyes lit up in delight and you snuggled against him instantly. The god kissed your forehead and held you close before He felt your hand on his as you guided his hand to your back. “Could you… continue?” You asked hesitantly and the sentence was almost drowned out by the very little voice you used.

Loki felt himself smile at you and instead of answering directly he started tracing your back again. “Like this?” He muttered but got his answer by the way you melted. “Yeah, thanks” you muttered and closed your eyes to focus on his touch.

“Y’know ‘m gonna fall asleep like this again” you sniggered sleepily. Loki hummed “I’m sure the captain’ll understand if we miss the first hour for once.” “Hmm~, love you” „love you too“

You melted farther and farther until your breathing calmed down and you were yet again fast asleep, Loki following you into dreamland shortly after.

And if you slept through the whole training session? Nobody had to know ;)

#berry's works #lee!reader #ler!loki #ticklish!reader #marvel tickles

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dragoncookies · 2 years ago

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(PT 1) REREADING STELLARLUNE!

I am on a mission this summer to reread the entirety of Stellarlune, every last word, because I’m really just delusional and don’t want to believe my favorite childhood series is spiraling downward (even though it truly is). There’s still some gold in Stellarlune, quite a lot actually.

SO, if you don’t want to reread stellarlune but still stay up to date you can follow me as I analyze this convoluted book. If you want, of course.

(TW: all caps).

(Sorry for grammar or spelling mistakes).

CHAPTERS 1-2:

Quick summary: Sophie finds the note, gets pissed at Grady for letting Keefe go and leaves her room to go to Elwin’s place with Sandor. Elwin and Ro are having a weird stuffed animal/exlir showdown, they have a long discussion about Keefe (go figure), then they call up Dex to figure out why Keefe freaked out and left. Dex clearly doesn’t want to tell them but they find out that Lex is talentless (it’s so sad).

First of all can I just say OH MY GOSH the whole thing is about Keefe. Literally that is all anyone obsesses over for the first two chapters so far. Literally his health and safety is ALL SOPHIE OBSESSES WITH in her internal monologues. Is that even healthy...?

CHAPTER ONE:

Funny thing, CHAPTER ONE HAS MAD PARRELELS TO THE SOPHITZ FIGHT SCENE IN LEGACY. Like, I’m not even lying when I say that I got intense flashbacks to that scene because Grady was literally acting like Fitz in his mannerisms and the syntax was so similar and the dialogue rang so many bells. It was uncanny.

Fitz tends to drag his toe on the ground and run a hand down his face when he’s stressed, and in this chapter Grady would be doing things like “dragging the toe of his boot through he flowers woven into her carpet”

and “Grady dragged a hand down his face”

I’m not even joking when I say that Grady said, “You trust me, don’t you?”.

There’s also a part in chapter one where it goes:

“’But I’ve never seen him so detirmined. Best I could do was...’

‘Was?’ Sophie prompted when he didn’t finish.”

In the Legacy fight scene there were multiple moments when Sophie didn’t finish her sentence and Fitz finished it. Except now it’s Sophie finishing the sentence. She was the one who was frustrated and she was lowkey acting like Fitz did in the Legacy fight scene. Little reverse reverse moment.

Do with this information what you will.

I never get tired of the Flori descriptions. In the first part of chapter one Shannon described her swaying to be like an autumn breeze, but at the end of chapter one she was described as swaying in a storm. Felt fitting.

Also,

someone get rid of Shannon’s ability to hit the Enter button,

Please.

;)

CHAPTER TWO:

I forgot how unironically comical Sandor is. It might just be me, but I narrate things when I read occasionally so I would be reading his stuff aloud with the squeaky bunny voice and everything he says is so serious but the voice makes it lowkey funny. The first lines of chapter two were so goofy because Sandor was all “it’s exactly what I feared” and it’s just Elwin’s house. It’s funny for me to imagine okay.

Chapter Two really highlights something in Sophie at this point: She is very unpractical. She’s a little dramatic but she refuses to listen to common sense and logic, and gets annoyed with anyone who tries to reason with her. She only listens to those who agree with her in that Keefe should have stayed. Like with Grady and Elwin she feels horribly betrayed, but connects with Ro because Ro wants to drop every current problem they’re all facing with the state of affairs in the elven world to find Keefe. When Dex (later in this chapter) points out Keefe might be safer in the lost cities Sophie gets mad and thinks “what’s wrong with everybody??” Like, Sophie please you’ve got bigger problems right now. Lowkey relatable ngl.

Okay I might ruffle some feathers with this, but Ro only gets more and more annoying with every new book that comes out. She’s so unbelievably in everyone’s business it’s surprising she has the fanbase she does. I feel as though Shannon is TRYING to make her BLATANTLY disrespectful and everyone just eats it up more and more. First of all, she just exposes Keefe’s personal statement in front of everyone and it clearly makes Sophie uncomfortable, then talks about how she’s been wanting this to happen forever and just assumes Sophie feels the same way about Keefe that Keefe does Sophie. Like, what would Ro have done if Sophie genuinely didn’t like Keefe? She’s shoving her nose in a teenage relationship she has NO BUISNESS being in. Gosh Ro. Sorry that was critical...she’s just so invasive. Also, this is a fantasy series, the romance is becoming excessive.

When Sophie calls up Dex, all I can say is oh my. Oh my.

Dex has clearly been crying and looks real rough and Sophie’s just like “so why are you crying. You’ve been crying tell me why, don’t argue with me” and when I tell you I’ve never wanted to reach through the pages and slap someone more. He’s clearly hurt and all she can think about is how badly she needs to get Keefe back. She makes Dex reorganize his priorities in the middle of a grieving session for his sibling so she can make him try and find Keefe. SOPHIE. HE’S YOUR FRIEND. BE NICE.

This entire conversation is also highlighting how lowkey hypocritical Sophie is (wow I’m absolutely bagging on the poor girl). She asks Dex “you trust me, don’t you?” when Grady literally asked her that a chapter ago and she got mad about it. She also tried to tease Dex a little to lighten the mood like Grady did a chapter ago when Sophie didn’t find it funny before.

Then there’s the part where Dex really really REALLY doesn’t want anyone to know that Lex is talentless and Ro just goes “well i know what happened and I’m going to spill your secrets in ten second unless you tell her yourself” (paraphrasing). That is just. I hate to say it but that is absolutely disgusting. You don’t hold people’s sensitive and personal information over their head’s like that. Dex has been sobbing and there’s crashing coming from his end of the imparter from inside his house. His world has probably been flipped upside down, he’s shouting “STOP” and asking them not to prod anymore, and Ro just FORCES the information to come out of him one way or another. That’s sick. It’s underhandedly sick. Sophie goes along with it too, using some pathos type sappy speech to convince Dex why invading his privacy is important because guess what? Finding Keefe (a relatively useless task) is more important than Dex’s privacy.

Then after Ro forces Dex to tell Sophie keefe’s new ability-detecting ability she makes it seem as though he’s overreacting.

Put simply: poor Dex.

There’s emphasis on the obsession with elven abilities in this chapter. Ro repeatedly highlights how bizarre it is that elves are so infatuated with something that can only be useful half the time, and Dex’s grief over Lex not having an ability shows how HEAVY the elven prejudice runs. Like, it’s literally making him cry. He doesn’t even want to say it. That’s how important it is in elven society. Dex even says, “Abilities define us for the rest of our lives”. Yikes. Maybe this is an important concept to keep in mind...?

I love this part of the chapter, though, when Dex actually does tell Sophie about Lex:

“’Oh,’

The tiny word seemed to pulse, growing louder with every beat until the sound filled the enormous room.

So did the word none of them said.

Talentless.

More tears dripped down Dex’s cheeks, and Sophie felt her own eyes turn watery.”

Sad :(

Well, that’s all for now. If you read all of that, you’re a legend. Stay tuned for more chapters!

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc keefe #Keefe Sencen #kotlc sophie #kotlc ro #sophie foster #kotlc stellarlune #stellarlune #kotlc headcanon #fitz vacker #kotlc fitz #kotlc keefe sencen #kotlc sophie foster #kotlc Fitz vacker

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forgottencassandra · 1 year ago

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Cassandra had been sulking over the fact that she hadn't had more men fawning over her (she didn't need to turn the head of every man -- it was her elder sister's ball, after all!), but she had hoped to gain a bit more attention. But Rose's comments made her smile and blush and it was at that moment when she realized perhaps the true reason she felt rather ignored by the handsome gentlemen in the room, "I think he's managed to frighten most of them off," She concluded, aloud, "And, if my father does not shake their nerves, I'm sure my brothers do."

Cassandra sighed, "I suppose none of them are worth my attentions, if they cannot brave my father's wrath for love of me." And while she finished this declaration with a laugh, as though to say it was all a joke, part of her was so satisfied with this reasoning that she believed it all to be true.

"Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry," Cassandra had become nearly deathly serious when Rose began to speak of her parents. Loosing both parents must be such an unbearable loss: Cassandra herself could hardly fathom it. She supposed, in a way, she'd lost another mother in her father's first wife, but she had no memories of her at all and even she knew that that relationship hardly compared to what the Malconaires had lost! (And to have gained such horrible new relatives in the process!)

For a moment, Cassandra thought that she might cry for her friend who had so lovingly had a gown crafted to showcase both her mother and father's houses. Instead, she wrapped her arm tightly around Rose's shoulders -- hugging her tightly from the side.

"I know I would have loved them! And I'm sure that they would be so wonderfully proud, to see you now. I know I am."

Cassandra's face scrunched up when Rose described her journey here and how they'd had to suffer it with both Valentina and Cassimir. "Oh, how horrible! I wish you did not have to start your evening in their company. I had asked mama if you might have been my guest last night and would then we would have been able to dress together, but mother said that Lady Valentina could not possibly spare you!" Cassandra rolled her eyes. "As though she couldn't even dress herself without you there!"

Cassandra didn't realize just how accurate that was.

"I hope Cassimir left poor Eithne alone?" She asked, "I'd instruct Arthur to run interference for her this evening, but I don't think he needs me to. If you had been just a few moments later, I think he and Sebastian both were ready to saddle their own horses and head a search party to bring you back straightaway!"

Or, at least send out men to look for them, but Cassandra considered this a mere detail and was certain that Arthur and Sebastian, both, would have happily braved the elements to ensure the Malconaires safety.

Cassandra surveyed the room, eyes following Rose's as her friend took everything in, "My own feast day is in the middle of summer, so I would start by throwing open all of those doors out into the gardens below and allow for guests to mingle easily between indoors and out. I'd have soft music being played from the balcony and everything would be lit by a hundred thousand tiny candles so that it looks like everything is covered in stars. I would have it look as though it had stepped directly from the pages of a fairy tale, I suppose. Something terribly romantic."

Glad You Came | Cassandra & Rose

Rose looked absolutely stunning.

Had it been anyone (Guinevere aside), Cassandra would have been seething with jealousy to have someone outshine her so. Rose was perhaps Cassandra's first true friend in the entire world and, with that, she realized that she was just as happy to see Rose shine as she was to shine, herself.

"Thank goodness you have come!" She cried. Formalities forgotten, she threw her arms about her friend until she noticed her mother's disapproving look. Luckily, her father had not and, straightening herself she resolved to be a bit more ladylike the rest of the evening (even if it was so easy to forget herself when she was with Rose).

"You look so beautiful, Rose. Is this gown one of your own designs?" Cassandra wished she had some of Rose's patience to sit down and sketch out any ideas she had for her gowns. Instead, she settled with vaguely describing the general idea and left her father's teams of seamstresses to interpret.

I had begun to worry you might not come, with this terrible weather. Was it terribly exciting braving it to get here?"

#comment #rose malconaire #glad you came #i'm crying bc I feel like she's pitched this idea before and everyone is like .... that's a major fire hazard #and cassandra is like you don't have any imagination!!!!!!!!

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lonefloric · 3 years ago

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Hay there <3

May i get some HCs of reader being the ice hashira? Platonic please

Ice hashira

Gender neutral reader + platonic!

No spoilers besides if you haven't seen the Natagumo arc or met the Hashira.

Note. this is an older fic, 1/2 not deleted.

Kamaboko trio + Nezuko

You met them in recovery after the mountain Natagumo. You had a mission you got an injury from your collarbone to your stomach so you stayed in the recovery room. It was a decently bad scratch (You would have considered it a minor injury but Koucho insisted you stay and let her treat you) You arrived after them, about 2 days later.

You easily recognized Tanjirou from the meeting about him and his demon sister. You understand the bond of the two siblings but didn't agree on him keeping her as a demon. Though, you wouldn't say it aloud.

He also recognized you from the same meeting as well, complimenting your light blue and white themed as you lounges in the room, taking the medicine given to you by Aoi. He's a sweetheart.

You didn't know the other boys, who you learned the names of due to Tanjirou. The boar masked, Inosuke you learned, always demanded a fight after learning your position as hashira after he threatened you and got hit on the head by Tanjirou and reprimanded. You laughed and waved him off, not taking the boar seriously. Tanjirou felt immensely horrible by what Inosuke did, you just had to reassure him there was no I'll feelings after.

But, unfortunately, Inosuke was very serious about dueling you. It was a reoccurring demand every few minutes or so. The easier way to get him from asking was to tell him to regain all his strength and then possibly you could duel. But that just turned into him throwing the door open everyday after practicing telling you that he got stronger and was going to beat you.

The yellow boy, Zenitsu, was probably the worst out of the trio. Crying and screaming most of the day about taking his medicine and how tiny his limbs were. Normally you stuffed your face into your pillow and tried blocking all noise. All above, it only intensified when he heard of your position. All hell breaks loose and he's crying and wailing louder (you didn't think that was possible) to the point Koucho came to the room herself.

She opened the door to see you in your bed, torso and lower neck wrapped I fresh bandages sipping tea, and a full blown wailing Zenitsu across from you in his own bed. You looked heavily annoyed by his continual screams of "I'M GOING TO DIE! THERE'S A HASHIRA IN HERE! I'M DOOMED! DOOMED I SAY!" and blubbering other incoherent words. Koucho would try to calm him (spoiler it didn't work) before having to get Tanjirou to calm the feral boy.

You met Nezuko in rather weird circumstances. It was a total accident. It was nighttime, way late into the evening when everyone was asleep, minus you. Spending most of your day in bed sleeping kept you awake at night most of the time. You decided to go on a walk (don't tell Koucho, she'd kill you if you opened any of the stitched scratches and would be upset you had taken off that itchy dressings). The cool evening air felt nice on the unwrapped injury, much better than sweating under them 24/7. The estate kept few Windows open allowing a nice evening breeze. You heard quiet speaking from down the left hall, making you curious. Slowly making your way down the hall you stopped at an slight ajar door, candle light peaking out just barely.

Pushing the door open you started at the young boy and his sister. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" You asked with a raised brow. Tanjirou jumped, eyes wide and scared. He began to stumble over his words as he rushed out excuses. You dropped the serious facade and gently laughed. "I'm only joking with you, take it easy." Tanjirou exhaled greatly, slumping in relief. You stepped fully in the room, closing the door behind you. "Visiting your sister I see." You motioned to the small child demon, who looked at you with full wonder. "A-ah, yes. It's the only time I get to see her."

You started back at the small child, keeping eye contact with her. Tanjirou sweat dropped nervously, your gaze seemed cold compared to Nezuko's wonder. "Cute." You suddenly said dropping a hand on the top of her head and patting gently. "You seem kind." Tanjirou blurted, slapping a hand over his mouth. You blinked at him in suprise. "Well then, I haven't heart that one ever." It was now Tankirou's turn to blink in suprise. Never heard that you seemed kind? Huh?

You jumped ever so slightly at the sudden feeling of arms aroun you. Looking down the small demon nuzzled herself into your stomach, happily sitting on your lap. "Nezuko! You can't just hug people!" Tanjirou cried out waving his hands wildly. You smiled fondly, wrapping your arms around the small girl in return. "It's alright. It's refreshing to have someone so comfortable around me."

Hashira

Of course you met a few of them when you had taken the position as Ice Hashira. A special breathing passed down in your family. The rest you met when they arrived after you. You felt more inclined to ignore your colleagues than interact, but of course there's the few who forcibly interact with you.

Gyomei was one you definitely had barely even spoken too. There was never a reason you had to spend time around him other than in meeting and the one mission you had gone on together, but nothing had happened. It turned into a simple patrol. The both of you had been entirely silent, except for the few times he mumbled something you couldn't hear. Yet, you still respected him.

Sanemi Shinazugawa. A name that irked you with just the utter of it. The pair of you had never gotten along. You despised his brash harsh nature and he despised your level tempered attitude. Normally you were never one to argue until you had met Sanemi. You could get under his skin with a single look and he's already blown a fuse ready to fight. He's also the tiniest bit jealous that Genya seems to like you.

Rengoku, oh Rengoku. He's one who forcefully made himself comfortable in your presence. Even if you seemed cold he (his words not yours) liked your company. He's boisterous and loud and your quiet and seemingly cold. Most conversations go one sided, him boasting happily about his younger brother whom you learned name was Senjuro, a carbon copy look alike to Rengoku. The very few times you've seen to answer him turns out to be decent conversations. He seems to enjoy being in your presence even if the conversations are one sided. He enjoys knowing that even if you don't seem like it, he knows your listening.

Mitsuri, a sweet girl who seemed to always want to be around you. She likes styling your hair (with permission of course). She likes doing all the intricate styles she's been learning and your (in her opinion) best model. She's one of the 3 who has pulled a smile from you, and she basks in the fact she got one. Most conversations aren't even concerations. She asks if she can style your hair, and with a nod of confirmation, the rest is in pure silence. That is, until she squeals over how cute she thinks you look.

Obanai. His snake definitely terrified you at first, you not having a keen liking to the scaley creature. It always seemed to be glaring at you, along with its owner too. He definitely didn't like you, and liked comparing you to Tomioka. He called the two of you the emotionless duo. You tended to never respond to any of his remarks, always ignoring them as they didn't affect you. That just made him more annoyed with you. You could never pin point what you did to him, so you brushed it off.

Uzui. Ah yes the 'flamboyant' former shinobi. He seemed to like you, typically hanging around you with Rengoku. He likes making jokes to see if you react. To when you don't he stops. You haven't met the wives, but heard them in passing. Rengoku and Uzui tend to sit around with you and converse, they don't mind your short answers or shake of your head when they ask questions. He is a positive beam to be around.

Shinobu was someone you spoke with often. Tending to enjoy her company you visit the butterfly estate on the rare occasion, much preferring to exchange crows for messages instead. She did indeed tease you lightly, but nothing like you had seen her with Tomioka. She liked to, more or less, test you? She'd say something and see how you react. The slightest twitch of irritation in your eye, the smallest tug of your lip in a quick smile. Overall she is more pleasant to be around.

Giyuu and you rarely spoke to one another. Suprising with how you two seemed to often be grouped together when the others spoke about you guys. Now, you had been in each other's presence before yet neither of you said a word. He had a silent respect for you after a mission almost gone wrong. He was a new hashira at the time and was just a slight to reckless and almost gotten himself severely injured if you hadn't been assigned to go with him. It may be a silent respect that he would never mention aloud, but you know it's there.

Muichirou was almost like your shadow. He seemed to have a keen liking to you, typically seen somewhere near you. On a walk, the boy would be next to you. Cloud gazing was an activity he always invited you to do with him. The soft grass like a cushion as you two pointed to the shapes you saw, or just watching the hours pass in the form of moving clouds. He tended to forget what he was doing so you always have to gently remind him. You're like an older sibling to him.

#kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #giyuu x reader #shinobu x reader #sanemi x reader #uzui x reader #muichiro x reader #Mitsuri x reader #Obanai x reader #Gyomei x reader #rengoku x reader #Tanjiro x reader #Zenitsu x reader #Inosuke x reader #Nezuko x reader #Kny x reader #platonic demon slayer

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frogtanii · 4 years ago

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a roar of competitive cheers burst from your hospital room, the boys all piled up on your bed playing in a smash tournament on bokuto’s switch. it was rather endearing to watch the good and grown men argue about which princess was a better competitor (rosalina, obviously, despite not being an actual princess) and, in sakusa’s case, pouting like a sore loser when his favorite — daisy — wasn’t even regarded as a real threat.

he absolutely dominated the next round in retaliation, to the group’s chagrin.

you eventually decided to take a break, the stuffiness and loudness of the room getting to you. the boys, while giving you a variety of concerned looks, respected your decision, leaving you to wander out of your space, clad in the semi revealing hospital gown and fuzzy yellow socks.

it was less than convenient to trudge around with your iv attached to your arm but you didn’t mind. the struggle kept your mind off of what you dubbed as The Incident™, weird as it sounded.

for some reason, the smallest things helped keep you occupied, thanks to your vigilance. your call with doctor yamada definitely helped, his sarcastic, biting nature criticizing some random kdrama had you cackling in your seat until your throat was (even more) sore.

at first, you felt a bit awkward calling him when you physically couldn’t speak but he took it in stride, filling up the silence with his commentary that was much, much appreciated.

actually, all the boys had been surprisingly good about your predicament. it took a moment for bokuto and suga to get used to your lack of responses but they eventually grew accustomed to it and even relished your minuscule reactions to one of their jokes or funny quips.

you were actually, finally, enjoying your time with your housemates and it felt good.

well, not all of your housemates. daichi was a given. you’d seen very little of him after the dinner, only laying eyes on him when he visited your hospital bed when he thought you were sleeping. the look of remorse and shame written all over his face was burned into your memory and you made a mental note to find a way to have a conversation with him in an attempt to clear the air.

while daichi’s situation at least made sense, kenma’s did not. you missed him deeply, and you had no idea what to do or say to fix what had been broken. apparently, both kuroo and sakusa had attempted to reach out, but they were quickly shut down. you could tell kuroo was more hurt than he let on, occasionally catching the tail-end of intense conversation between him and omi, but they were both quick to slap on a smile and change the subject as not to worry you when you made your presence known.

you appreciated their concern, you did, but kenma was your friend too and you desperately wanted to know what you could do to help.

a deep sigh left your lips, the action only causing a slight twinge in your throat as you meandered through the cold halls. your brain started to hurt as you thought more and more about it, stress climbing up your spine and burrowing at the base of your skull.

annoying, you thought, your eye twitching in irritation. headaches sucked mad ass and you were not looking forward to the hell of the one that was building up as you walked.

turning down another hallway, you abruptly stopped, your iv screeching to halt interrupting the hushed conversation that a certain someone was having at the far end of the corridor.

kenma!

kenma twisted towards you, his feline eyes widening in surprise as he whispered a hushed goodbye to whoever he was speaking to before shoving his phone into his pocket and staring at you in shock, pain, and most prominently,

guilt.

pure, unadulterated guilt permeated from all over him, the stench coming off of him in waves. you nearly flinched at the sight of him, the deep circles under his eyes practically broadcasting his struggle to the whole world.

your name dropped from his lips in a low whisper, his immediate reaction afterwards leading you to believe he hadn’t meant to say it aloud at all.

you chanced a step forward at his utterance, and then another and another until you were face to face with each other. you felt his eyes searching yours but you made sure to keep your face neutral if not for the blatant worry written all over it.

his plush bottom lip was pulled in between his teeth as his hands twitched by his sides as if he wasn’t exactly sure where to put them. you let out a soft breath at the sight, kind of hoping he would just give you a hug like it looked like he wanted to.

but, kenma held back, waiting for you to do something, to say something (not that you could) to absolve this horribly tense silence that the pair of you were now enshrouded in.

gently peeling your fingers from your iv stand, you lifted them to sign in the small space between your chests, in clear view of his observant gaze.

you recalled with fondness when a handful of the house members had decided to learn a bit of sign language, just in case someone was in a panic attack and became nonverbal. the impromptu learning session had been so much fun that the group had began regularly meeting to expand their sign language vocabulary and fluency until you all were at least semi fluent (in all the ways that mattered at least).

kenma was a member of that group and you’d throughly enjoyed his witty remarks throughout the lesson and his occasional cute little giggles that were liberally interspersed into conversation. that kenma was in such stark contrast to this kenma that it was almost jarring as he watched your hands with rapt attention, awaiting anything you had to say.

i missed you, you began slowly, not missing the way his eyes immediately became glassy and his hands tightened to fists by his sides.

“you shouldn’t,” he replied, his voice deep and gritty. “not after what i did.”

you cocked your head in confusion at his words. what he did? you had no idea what he was talking about but you were determined to get to the bottom of it if that was what was making him avoid you like this.

what did you do?

kenma’s jaw clenched, the guilt that had faded away for a moment, coming back full force. “i... i did this to you...” he motioned to the healing bruises on your neck and the iv stand still by your side.

now you were even more perplexed. he wasn’t the one who cornered you in the bathroom so what could he possibly be going on about? unprompted, your mind flashed back to that night, the moment where you were heading off to the bathroom, meeting kenma’s eyes for a second when you did.

oh.

was that what he was feeling so horribly about? that he saw you go into the bathroom? that was hardly news and nothing to be up in arms about unless he also saw meiko go in after you and...

double oh.

suddenly, all his behavior started making sense. kenma felt guilty because he believed he was somehow responsible for allowing this horrible thing to happen to you.

oh, honey, you signed quickly, driven to get your point across without him interrupting. you didn’t do this to me. meiko did.

kenma opened his mouth to protest but you didn’t let him, one of your hands coming up to cover his lips. he let out a muffled protest, his breath hot against your palm, eyes wide in bewilderment.

“listen to me kenma. you are not at fault here,” your voice screamed at you to stop speaking but not yet, not until you were done. “i know for a fact that if you knew what meiko was going to do, you wouldn’t have let me go.... you are good kenma, so good.”

his whole body shuddered at your words, all but collapsing into you, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you tightly.

if you faintly felt the shoulder of your hospital getting damp, you didn’t say anything, content to let him hold onto you and cry it out.

after a minute or two, he sniffled and pulled away from you, his face red and puffy but content. “you shouldn’t have talked idiot,” kenma chided gently, a soft smile on his face.

you just gave him an apologetic shrug and a hastily signed “sorry” before waving him off to your hospital room, sending him a smile as he meandered off in that direction. you didn’t follow, figuring he and the boys needed some time alone to reconnect without your presence there.

taking a hold of your iv pole again, you continued on your way while staring out the window, watching the tiny birds fly by. unfortunately, your little birdwatching stint sent you careening into a hard body, your feet losing their grip on the slippery ground as you stumbled to the floor.

a quick glance up at the perpetrator had your apology dying in your throat. it was osamu, looking every bit as bewildered as you expected him to, a small jello cup in one hand and a spork in the other.

you couldn’t keep your scowl from off your face as you waved away his helpful arm, completely missing the flash of hurt that appeared across his smooth skin. “please, let me help ya,” he tried again, this time earning a physical slap on the arm, visibly recoiling at the contact.

“leave me the fuck alone osamu,” you growled before picking yourself back up and starting to stroll away but you quickly stopped in your tracks, turning your head to give him a menacing grin. “if you fuck with atsumu again, i swear on bokuto jr, i will castrate you and feed you your sorry, wrinkly ballsack on a silver platter.”

with that you were gone, head held high and a wide grin on your face as osamu watched, his heart flipping annoyingly in endearment. he breathed a deep sigh and slid to the floor of the hall before popping open his jello and taking a bite.

your reaction was well deserved but he couldn’t help praying and hoping that things would change between the two of you.

change for the better. change for good.

℗ poker face

change for the better

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - GOLLY GEE THIS WAS A LONG ONE BHT KENMA!!!!!! and samu >:( anYWAYS SLEEP IS CALLING MY NAME, LEMME KNOW WHAT U THINK <3333 don’t forget to feed me :3 also pls kenma’s secret not so secret praise thing :00

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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lol-im-done · 4 years ago

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The Avenger & Baron of Sokovia

Thank you so much to @sagyunaro for coming up with this idea! I wrote too much to fit into a one shot so I’m splitting this into two parts!

Part One:

Part Two:

You can find this on my A03 as well: Anti_Social_Teen

Word Count: 2,818

What happened that horrible day in Sokovia affected you more than any other mission you had been on in your time with the Avengers. You had seen death, had seen destruction, narrowly avoided it every second of your life but as you lay on the ground of Novi Grad that day, trying so hard to keep the chunk of Sokovia close to the ground with your telekinetic abilities it became too much. You vividly remembered placing yourself close to the middle of the rising piece of Earth that Ultron was going to use like an atomic bomb to wipe out billions of innocent lives.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, running over to you.

“I’m going to try and put it back down!” you replied, standing your ground. Wanda had come over with her brother Pietro, watching you with interest.

“Isn’t that what FRIDAY explained to us. The higher it goes the bigger the blast radius,” you said. Steve nodded, worry filling his face but you gave him a brave smile. Closing your eyes in concentration, your hands filled with dark green energy, tendrils beginning to snake down into the ground as it continued to rise. “I got this! Go!” you instructed them. It had felt like hours, you had never pushed yourself to these limits before and couldn't stop yourself from falling to your knees before you knew it your body collapsed completely but you persisted, your whole body and the area around you glowing green. Vaguely you could hear the others try to reach you but you shook your head silently, tears streaming down your face in pain and frustration, blood seeping out of your nose as you remained glued to the ground.

The guilt of your weakness spread like a poison in your body, you weren't strong enough and by the end it didn't help when Novi Grad fell. They had told you that you had kept it at half the height it was supposed to be at, that your telekinetic energy had kept most of the big debris from falling but you ignored their voices of reason. It was Thor who had found you floating in the sea, passed out but cocooned by your powers. Numbness engulfed your body the instant you had awakened and you watched silently for the next few days as decisions were made on how the cleanup and relief would proceed. The answer became clear to you for what you needed to do next.

“You don’t have to stay,” Steve murmured, placing his hand on your shoulder in a reassuring manner.

“Who will I be if I don’t,” you replied sadly. Steve could see how much this meant to you, so he gave you a warm strong hug before walking off to the Quinjet to return to the Compound leaving you in Sokovia. The terms of your stay were strictly humanitarian, to help cleanup the destruction, your identity kept a secret. Only around official Stark Relief Foundation workers did you use your telekinetic powers in the worst part of the devastation. With a solemn look in your eyes you waved your hands, slowly lifting chunks of peoples homes, their belongings falling into the ash and rubble. After a few hours of this you would walk around, picking up trinkets, photos, anything you could recover. You’d return to your small apartment Tony had gotten you, and cleaned them as best you could with your kit of brushes before returning them to the main headquarters where refugees and survivors could seek help. It was only supposed to be a week but you stayed longer. It was mainly your guilt that kept you tied to Sokovia but soon you felt yourself growing connected to the suffering country. It was another day at the Stark Relief Foundation building, you were slowly picking up Sokovian, Wanda had even facetimed you for a few hours each night trying to teach you some phrases. It was mostly silent, somber in this wing of the building where survivors would arrive, where recovered bodies were documented. Slowly your eyes caught sight of a distraught man a few feet away.

“He just found his family in the rubble,” Lana murmured to you, eyes glancing at the man who sat a few chairs away. She brought out a clipboard but you took it gently from her hands.

“I got this,” you replied and she gave you a grateful smile before walking off. With a sigh you walked over to the man, who was covered in dust.

“Hi. Ahoj,” your soft voice broke through the wall of silence the man had created around himself. It took him a few seconds to lift his head finally and the look of heartbreak on his face made a lump form in your throat.

“My name is (Y/N). I’m a volunteer and I’m going to help you fill out some forms,” you said, taking a seat next to him. “English or Sokovian?” you asked. “English is fine,” he finally spoke, coughing to clear his throat. Giving him a sympathetic look, you passed him a handkerchief from your pocket which he took gratefully.

“I know this is a difficult time but I’m here to help with whatever you need. We will help you find shelter, get food and financial assistance and help with the death certificates of your family,” you explained. The way you spoke to him was unusual, straightforward but kind. It was the custom to speak formally almost coldly to strangers, but there was a softness in your eyes. “So what is your name?” you asked.

“Zemo. Helmut Zemo,” he replied. Giving him a small smile you brought out your pen and got to work. In the next few days you came to realize that Helmut Zemo was not just any ordinary citizen, he was a Baron. Even as Sokovia continued to crumble at the institutional level, Helmut played an active part in donating funds to the local organizations. He became a familiar face, always an active presence during the day and after a few weeks of working together you could comfortably call him a friend. You still didn’t reveal your true identity, there was a growing sentiment from some in Sokovia against the Avengers but overall most people were grateful you all had saved the world. You still struggled with guilt of course but things were becoming easier. Spending time with Helmut was peaceful, he would often read aloud to you when you spent time at each other's apartments after a long day of work. Even with his wealth he chose a modest apartment a few blocks from yours. Things always remained strictly friendly, both of you keeping conversations light and rarely bringing up your origins or past life. It became a comfort to listen to his Sokovian accent, look into those captivating brown eyes. Helmut often felt the start of a warm feeling in his chest when he heard your airy laugh after his terrible jokes but he forced himself to suppress the feeling. Just when you thought it would be a good idea to open up to him, to begin to reveal your true identity that was all shattered the moment you entered his apartment one evening.

It was dark, only the crackling fire from the fireplace providing a light source. He stood back turned to you, hunched over the fire a glass of whiskey clenched in his hand.

“Helmut?” you whispered, closing the door softly behind you so as to not startle him.

“You’re an Avenger,” Helmut whispered, and when he turned around you saw something in his eyes you had never seen before. Anger and hatred, it was amplified by the reflection of flames in his eyes.

“Who told you?” you asked, trying to stay calm but your heart pounded beneath your shirt.

“I heard the Stark Relief Foundation workers talking about you. How Stark was coming to visit you soon,” he sneered. “Is it true?” Helmut asked. Wordlessly you lifted your hand twisting it summoning your telekinetic energy. That was all he needed, he began shaking his head a dark laugh coming from his mouth. “What is this then? Why are you here?” Zemo snapped, pacing close to the fireplace.

“I stayed to help,” you began but he threw his glass against the wall, shattering the glass cup. It stunned you, making you jump in place.

“Help,” he said coldly.

“Helmut please let me explain-,” you tried to say, your voice wavering with emotion.

“No! You played a part in it! You’re the reason why my family is dead!” Helmut screamed. Those last words hit you like a slap in the face, face falling as your heart seemed to crack right down the middle. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room and before you knew it all the guilt and shame and memories hit you like a ton of bricks. There was no use in trying to say something, when you opened your mouth no words came out. Helmut made no attempt to move towards you, no attempt to take back his words as you turned away and stumbled out of the door. Heavy sobs began to slip out of your mouth, as memories flashed in your head, the screams of the innocent civilians, the bodies of the dead. Through tears you made your way back to your apartment, packed and left Sokovia that same night.

You didn’t return to the Compound after that, choosing to stay in Switzerland in a home that Tony owned and had let you stay in. He felt for you, as did the others on the team as much as they wanted you to return to them. This is where you stayed in solitude and when the Accords were announced you had made no attempt to be a part of the rift between Steve and Tony. You thought it was ridiculous and when you were summoned by Ross you ignored the summons and remained secluded. It wasn’t until it was all over that you were granted a loose term of conditions to keep your freedom even though you hadn’t done anything. It shocked you, when you found out what Helmut had done, the plan he orchestrated. How could the kind man from Sokovia become so full of hatred and vengeance? You knew his wife, son and father had died. You had been the one to fill out their death certificates but never could you imagine it would end like this. He was often on your mind as best as you tried to shake him off but he had made an impact on your life. It wasn’t until one sunny morning that you received an unexpected call.

“Hello?” you answered the phone as you stirred the sugar into your tea.

“Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?,” the German voice asked.

“Yes. Who are you?” you asked a bit suspiciously.

“I’m Warden of the Berlin Detention Center where Helmut Zemo is being kept. He’s asked to meet with you and we would normally deny this request but seeing as you are an Avenger-,” the Warden began but you cut him off.

“I was an Avenger,” you corrected but he continued.

“It is up to you if you would like to see him. If not I can tell him his request was denied,” he finished. A strange feeling filled you, why bother seeing him? He hated you, tore your family apart in revenge. But then you thought about the hurt and pain you both faced in Sokovia.

“I’ll be there in 48 hours,” you finally said into the phone. Even after he had hung up you stayed there by the kitchen counter, tears silently flowing down your cheeks.

Following the armed guards you clutched your purse tightly, the nerves finally hitting you at what you were about to do. It felt like you were in a dream as the door slid open, revealing a dark cell with a glass wall and a chair in front of it. There was no movement from the cell as you sat down on the chair they provided you, you actively avoided Helmut’s gaze, setting your bag down. You kept your eyes trained on the piece of lint on your jeans until he finally spoke up breaking the silence, but there was tension.

“Will you not look at me (Y/N)?” that rich Sokovian voice that haunted your dreams asked.

“I didn’t think you’d want to look into the face of your family’s killer,” you said, the words sounded harsher than you intended. By the time you looked up to meet his eyes, Helmut’s face was a vision of regret.

“I should have never said those things to you,” Helmut said, coming closer to the wall that separated him from you. He looked differently from the last time you had seen him, he looked defeated. His chestnut hair was tousled, stubble beginning to grow on his jawline.

“Yet you did and never gave me a chance to explain,” you snapped crossing your arms.

“My anger was misplaced. I see that now,” Helmut began. “I saw the footage, what they had recovered. The way you tried to save Novi Grad,” Helmut said, emotion filling his voice.

“We tried to save Novi Grad,” you interrupted, even if you could see how the Avengers held responsibility, you weren’t going to allow him to slander your family. Helmut grimaced at your words. “Why did you ask me here?” you snapped, eyes hardening. Helmut inched closer to the glass, nervously running his hands through his hair.

“I’ve been contemplating what I’ve done. I realized that even if you had not been involved I hurt you and you didn’t deserve that especially after what I did to you in Sokovia,” Helmut said. Lifting your brow you allowed him to continue.“If you let me I would like to explain myself, not excuse myself. I want to tell you everything,” Helmut said. It felt like torture for Helmut, every second waiting for your response.

“Alright. I’ll listen,” you finally said, leaning back into your chair. The faintest smile filled Helmut’s face as he began his story. In the weeks and months that passed by, it became a weekly occurrence to meet him. Berlin wasn’t too far from where you resided in Switzerland, the train ride was a part of your weekly routine now. When Tony had called you, expressing his concern at your visitations you explained that this was purely rehabilitation, for both you and Helmut. He wasn’t entirely convinced but he couldn’t stop you, not even Steve when he tracked you down to talk to you.

“(Y/N),” Steve greeted, surprising you in the alleyway by your apartment. “Steve! Christ you scared me,” you snapped, holding a hand to your heart. Giving him a stern look he chuckled.

“Are you going to see Zemo?” Steve asked.

“Yes. Are you here to try and stop me?” you asked, tilting your head.

“I just want to make sure he’s not using you, manipulating you,” Steve sighed. “Don’t you trust me Steve?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“I don’t trust him,” Steve replied.

“He was in the wrong. I know that Steve but everyone deserves a chance to explain themselves, a second chance. You of all people should understand that,” you said. Steve stared down at you with those intense blue eyes but he knew you were right. Giving you a strong hug he retreated back into the shadows.

“What are you thinking of miláčik?” Helmut whispered one day as you listened to him read a book on Russian history. History was something you both enjoyed so you would bring books every week for him. Heat rose in your cheeks at the way he called you darling but you shrugged.

“How much I enjoy spending time with you. Even in this prison,” you murmured. Helmut smiled, feeling a joy he seldom felt since his family had perished.

“I wish there wasn’t this glass between us,” Helmut said, but his tone surprised you. It was almost sad, and when you met his eyes there was something new in them. This was your chance, to admit your growing feelings for Helmut. Helmut watched you lean forward, giving him a closer view of your face. It was constantly in his dreams, your eyes his new favorite color.

“Helmut I-,” you began to say, eyes full of adoration and sincerity but the words became stuck in your throat. Helmut’s confusion at your loss of words turned into horror as you slowly became dust, eyes wide with fear. The last thing he saw was your glowing green hand outstretched trying to reach him as he slammed his body against the glass, voice screaming your name until you were nothing. He was stuck in his cell of helplessness and loss, and that is how he stayed for five more years.

#helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #imagine #fatws #zemo x reader #helmut zemo imagine

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fruitcoops · 3 years ago

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Night Changes

This isn't based on an ask, but I've had some early-Cap ideas brewing and think about the first time the team heard him laugh a lot. His and James' friendship is so sweet in SW--the beginning of it must have been such a shock to them both. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

So maybe James had bitten off more than he could chew. It wasn’t the first time, to be sure, but coaxing (read: drag kicking and screaming) his new teammate out of the carefully-constructed mosaic of scowls that made up his entire personality was proving to be a little more challenging than he previously expected. With most rookies, all it took was some elbow grease and overenthusiastic inclusion in group events to get them to open up—with his brand-new soon-to-be best friend, he had to handle things a little more delicately.

Sirius Black was a puzzle wrapped up in one of those freaky code-breaking machines from World War Two Lily liked to talk about. He was one of the best hockey players James had ever seen, but off the ice he seemed to shut down. The intense focus on his face smoothed out into almost perfect neutrality, and in the four months since he joined the Lions, he had never once smiled for real in front of the team. He sat in his stall and padded up in silence, then went out and kicked ass before following Pascal home like a living shadow.

Naturally, James took it as a personal mission to pry Sirius Black’s closed-off persona open like a stubborn oyster. He tried including Sirius in group events—the rookie went along with a quiet “yeah, sure”, but sat at the table and nursed a single drink for the entire night. He tried getting into friendly banter with him on the ice, but it was like Sirius had never joked with anyone in his life. Hell, he even tried finding him a girlfriend, which tanked harder than the goddamn Titanic.

“Rookie!” James shouted down the hallway.

Sirius jumped and turned around, obviously confused. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” James laughed, jogging over to toss an arm over his shoulders. “What’s up?”

“Not much.”

He waited for Sirius to continue, then rolled his eyes and gave him a friendly shake. “C’mon, man, how was your weekend? Has Dumo coerced you into being a stay-at-home babysitter yet?”

Sirius’ frown deepened. “What? I come with him to practice every day.”

Change tactics, change tactics— “Got any plans for Friday?”

James knew the answer, of course; it was always no or not yet or a simple shake of the head. If he was a less observant man, he would have assumed Sirius didn’t actually want to hang out with the team. But the longing looks toward their easy rhythm and the way he always tilted himself toward locker room conversations told a different story. “None yet,” Sirius said with a shrug.

James gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Good, ‘cause I’m having a party at my place and you’re not allowed to miss it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you to be there, duh.” The bewilderment didn’t fade from Sirius’ face, but beneath it—well, maybe James was just seeing things, but he looked almost hopeful. He ruffled Sirius’ hair and headed for the locker room. “Friday at five, rookie! I’ll be waiting!”

The week passed in a slog of practices and cold weather. Sirius clammed up more and more as the party drew closer, but James didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered between the rest of them like he was analyzing a play. He would make one hell of a captain someday, if he could just relax a little.

“Hey, rookie, want a ride?” he asked when the big day finally arrived.

“Don’t you want to go home and set up first?” Sirius’ brow furrowed. For an eighteen-year-old kid, he was awfully thoughtful. James couldn’t wait to see him let loose a little. “I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

“It’s a yes or no question,” he teased, poking the bit of exposed shoulder through the widening hole in Sirius’ under armor.

“I…” He faltered, then the corner of his mouth twitched up. It was the closest thing James had seen to a smile from him yet. One point for Potter. “Sure, Pots. Thanks.”

“No problem. Meet me at my car in five or so, yeah?”

“D’accord.”

“Oho, fancy French,” James laughed, turning back to unlace his skates.

It wasn’t until thirty seconds after Sirius left the room that he remembered he never told the rookie what his car looked like. Horrible, terrible visions of the poor guy wandering around the parking lot—or, god forbid, thinking James had left without him—flashed through his mind. It would undo everything he had been working so hard to build.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath as he shoved his gear into his duffel with reckless abandon and hurried out of the locker room. His legs would be stiff from trying to run so soon after a grueling drill practice, but it was worth it to save his friend. “Rookie? Hey, Sirius, you still here?”

There was no response. James cursed again and made a beeline for the door to the parking lot. Please, God, don’t let him get lost. I need him to trust me.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he panted as he burst out onto the half-frozen concrete.

Sirius looked up from his phone with a strange expression. “Are you okay?”

“Thought I lost you for a sec.”

“You said to meet at your car, yes?” He glanced between James and the car in sudden worry.

“Yeah, yes, absolutely, I just—” He made an aborted gesture and dug his keys out of his pocket. “I realized I forgot to tell you which one is mine.”

Sirius blinked at him. “I know what your car looks like.”

“How?”

“Because you drive it here every single day and you gave me a ride three weeks ago.”

‘Dumbass’ went unsaid, but James could feel it hanging in the air. He coughed lightly. “Right. Anyway, you can toss your bag wherever and hop in the passenger seat. My place isn’t far from here.”

Sirius took his duffel as he unlocked the car and settled both in the trunk with more care than James’ poor, battered bag had ever seen in its life. That was another thing that confused him about Sirius Black—he was so careful. He walked quietly for someone so tall, and each movement seemed pre-planned.

Each movement, that is, until he tried to get in the car. “Uh, Pots?”

“That’s m—oh.” James covered his mouth to stifle his laughter as Sirius tried to fold himself into the passenger seat and failed miserably. “I’m sorry, my girlfriend was sitting there last. Uh, there’s a lever on your right—yeah, there, just give it a pull and—”

With a harsh ka-chunk, the seat slid all the way back. Both men froze. It took everything in James’ power not to burst out laughing at the deer-in-headlights shock on Sirius’ face.

“Yep, that one,” he managed. “Nice job.”

They drove in relative quiet—James chattered on about weekend plans and hummed to the radio while Sirius watched out the window with the occasional monosyllable response. It took James a bit by surprise how comfortable he was, even without a steady stream of banter. Sirius might have been stubborn and silent and determined to foil all James’ plans at getting him to socialize, but he was calming to be near, like an anchor on unsteady water. Despite his overall quiet air, he was obviously paying attention to every word that left James’ mouth.

“You’re a good guy, y’know that?” he said as they turned onto his street. Sirius glanced over in surprise. “Most people tune me out within, like, five minutes.”

“I’m a good listener.”

James opened his mouth to respond, then paused. “Was that—Sirius Black, was that a joke?”

Something akin to mischief—mischief!—crossed his face. “Maybe.”

“Were you roasting me?” James gaped at him. “Oh my god. The guys are never gonna believe this.”

“Probably not.”

“You sick bastard. They won’t believe me.”

“You can give it a shot,” Sirius said with a shrug as the engine turned off. Pieces began to connect in James’ head as he stared, incredulous, at the rookie he thought would never even crack a smile. Four months of work had not been wasted, as he had feared; every joke, every one-sided conversation, and every attempt to get Sirius involved had been seen and heard and taken to heart. When he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen Sirius actively agree to something unless James asked personally.

“We’re friends,” he said aloud, too surprised and too happy to hold it in. Not friends in the way James was with the rest of their loud, over-the-top teammates, but friends all the same.

“Well, yeah,” Sirius said as if it was obvious.

James unbuckled his seatbelt and socked him lightly on the shoulder, barely suppressing a shriek of excitement. “Love you, man. Grab your shit, we’ve got a party to set up.”

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

As much as it pained James to say it, having someone around who was six-foot-three was a huge help. There was no blow to his pride as he dragged Lily’s stepstool out; no grudging acceptance that he simply couldn’t reach those last two inches on the wall. Instead, he could foist any and all responsibility on his brand-new best friend in the whole wide world and focus on the things that mattered, like putting anything breakable or important far away from the grubby hands of his inebriated teammates.

His success was still ringing in his ears when the guests finally arrived—throughout the evening, James rode the high of accomplishing his mission to pull Sirius Black into his tight-knit circle. Every minute of those four months was worth it.

Midnight came and went, and by one-thirty in the morning James’ cramped living room was packed with tipsy hockey players in a vague imitation of a circle. “Non, non, I’ve gotta good one,” Dumo said, hiccupping. The room fell quiet as he leaned forward. “What do you call a body of water with a chicken in it?”

“What?” Kasey whispered, starry-eyed like a kid at Christmas.

“A swimming pool.”

The room stayed quiet, and then someone started to laugh. Slowly, they all turned to the source of the noise, and James felt a ripple of shock roll through the team as Sirius snorted. “It’s a swimming pool,” he said around a smile, his accent thick from three drinks. He had a nice laugh; James could get used to hearing it. “Like—poule, like chicken?”

His whole face was alight with happiness. James wasn’t sure whether to cry or cheer. That’s what I’ve been waiting for, he thought. That look, right there. Sirius fit in among the group like a missing piece of their puzzle, snickering away as if he hadn’t been stoically silent a day in his life. His laugh was downright bubbly.

“I don’t think they get it,” Dumo said into the rim of his cup.

Sirius shook his head, trying to catch his breath. “D’accord, so—so ‘chicken’ in French is poule, yeah? So a chicken in a body of water is a swimming poule. Do you get it now?”

A few oh’s of understanding washed over them, but several people continued to stare. “Too drink for this,” Sergei grumbled, though James could see the smile pulling at his mouth as Sirius turned to him with bright eyes.

“But it’s funny!” Sirius protested, so earnest it made James’ heart hurt.

“I think it’s funny, rookie,” he assured him with a clumsy pat on the arm. “And it’s my house, so I say Dumo gets a point this round.”

Kasey hiccupped. “Hey, anyone who makes the rookie laugh gets points in my book. No offense, dude.”

“None taken,” Sirius said, though his cheeks were pink.

James nudged him with his shoulder as Talker started a knock-knock joke. “It’s okay,” he said under his breath.

Sirius picked at the label on his cup. “I know I haven’t been very social,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” James insisted. “It always takes rookies a while to warm up, so we’re just glad you’re happy. I’m glad my best friend is having a good time at my party.”

A heavy silence fell between them as Sirius looked over, eyebrows raised. “Best friend?”

“What, like you didn’t see this coming?” James slung an arm over his shoulder. “Yes, you French-Canadian nerd, you’re my best friend. And that means I’m your best friend, and there’s no take-backsies.”

“What the hell is a take-backsie?” Sirius laughed. “Did you make that up?”

James grinned. He had the feeling this was the beginning of an excellent friendship.

#sirius black #james potter #pascal dumais #kasey winter #sergei ivanov #thomas walker #rookie #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #pre-cap #friendship

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nctsworld · 4 years ago

Text

the yuletide boyfriend

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:

“WISHLIST: -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side, ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time.

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping.

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile. “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

2K notes · View notes

wintersoldierwhore · 4 years ago

Text

𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — tom holland

summary: tom figures out his best friend, and the love of his life, is being abused. so he does something about it.

warnings: ABUSE — if this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read this, swearing, crying, arguments, fluff, angst, comfort.

notes: this was requested, the person didn’t want to be tagged. my requests are still open, if you scroll down my blog you will find a link to a request form. ask away ! <3

“Tom,” you quietly cooed, happy to hear his voice over the phone. You barely saw him these days as he was a busy man, but you couldn’t blame him. “How’s your movie coming along?” You just needed to hear him, you didn’t care what the conversation was about. Anything to distract you.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s good to hear from you.” Tom replied happily, sitting in the wooden chair of his trailer. Filming had wrapped for the day and all he wanted was a shower and some sleep. But he was never mad at you calling, he loved hearing from his childhood friend. You’d drifted apart for a few years, when he first got into playing big parts, but it wasn’t due to hard feelings. “The movie is going great, just finished filming for the day. How are things?”

You hadn’t seen Tom since he left for filming, you rarely met up in person. And if you did, your boyfriend was present. It was almost as if he were there to supervise. “Yeah, it’s all good.” Tom never saw through those lies, you’d gotten so good at masking your feelings that it was natural. You believed you were fine, you’d gotten used to telling yourself that you were okay.

He hid it from everyone, but Tom missed you. He hadn’t seen you in months, what with being so busy working. Sure, the only times you’d see each other was when your asshole boyfriend was present. But it was seeing you, at least. From the beginning of your friendship, he’d watched you meet boys and fall for them, only to come crying to Tom when your heart is broken for the nth time. But something about your current boyfriend was different — worse. Everytime he meets you, and him, you just laugh nervously. You never talk about yourself, you never make jokes anymore. It’s just fake smiles. And as much as he wanted to bring it up with you, about how wary of your boyfriend he was, he didn’t want to hurt you.

“I’m home this Thursday, maybe you can come to my parent’s house for a barbecue.” Tom suggested, wanting needing you to say yes. He needed to know you were okay.

“Maybe.” That was your response every time. You couldn’t make plans without letting your boyfriend know, it was an unspoken rule. Tom just sighed, feeling hopeless. Sometimes it hurt to think you were being controlled, parts of your life weren’t your own, they belonged to your boyfriend.

“Hey, I’m driving back to the hotel now. Can we talk tomorrow?” Tom questioned. He didn’t want to hang up, he wanted to stay on the phone all night. But duty calls early tomorrow morning. If it were up to him, you’d be out of your horrible relationship and enjoying the US with him. Maybe even have something between you, it was all just a dream for Tom.

“Sure, spidey. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You replied, your voice silent as another tear fell down your cheek. You were currently sitting in your bathroom, your weight blocking the door shut. Your boyfriend had started yet another argument, this time about the house.

“Why is this house such a mess?” He yelled, sliding his shoes off and kicking them to the side of the door. That was part of the problem, but you’d never say it to his face. You’d not long just got in from your own job, so you hadn’t had time to start cleaning.

“I’ve just been so busy with work, I haven’t had chance to clean it.” You replied, sorting the clean dishes away. All you wanted was a moment’s peace, and you couldn’t even have that.

“Just get it done,” he grumbled, walking into the living room, “I work all day, I’m exhausted. I shouldn’t have to come home to a mess.” Um, sir, this is your home too. Unfortunately, you’d spoken that one aloud. And he’d heard you.

Steam was coming from his ears, he couldn’t believe your audacity. “It’s my home too? What exactly do you contribute to this house? You work as a receptionist, wow, money moves.” His sarcastic tone deserved a slap on its own. “I’m the one that pays the bills and the groceries, and whatever else you decide to buy.”

He didn’t, but you had no energy to argue. You contributed to the house, too. He just enjoyed belittling you, your job, your worth. He made you feel like an ant, and enjoyed it. Grumbling some other nonsense, and mentioning the pub, he left the house. At least you were alone for the next few hours. He usually came home a drunken mess and slept on the couch, so it worked out okay for you.

After cleaning the majority of your home and beginning dinner, that’s when you’d made the phone call to Tom. But he was busy, and didn’t seem like he wanted to talk. You hoped he would somehow see through your lies, and see that you weren’t okay. That you needed rescuing from this horrible man.

Almost a week later, Tom was home and called you to remind you about the family barbecue. It had been one of your better weeks with your boyfriend, but you weren’t ready to invite him out. You’d gone through different excuses as to why you’d be gone for hours today. But there was nothing you couldn’t do with him tagging along.

“Where are you off to?” He questioned, lounging on the couch. Your couch. You’d had it long before you met him, it was the comfiest thing known to man.

You had a tote bag stuffed with presentable clothes, there’s no way he’d let you go to work in a nice summer dress. “Boring work dinner, there hosting it at work. I should be back this evening.” You turned, expecting some sort of snarky comment and him eventually saying no. But nothing.

You’d driven to Tom’s family home, parking in their driveway and the door had opened before you even got there. It was Tom. He looked overjoyed to see you, to be around you again. Little did he know, you needed this. You needed him.

Tom squeezed you, hand through your hair gently as you hugged him back. “God, I missed you.” He whispered, pulling away and observing your outfit. An eyebrow raised, and rightly so, it was a questionable outfit.

“Oh, I have clothes in my bag.” You mentioned, slipping past him and into the downstairs bathroom to get dressed. You felt more like yourself now, around people that loved you, in clothes you enjoyed wearing. You could finally relax, if only most weekends were like this.

You joined Tom’s family, making conversation with his mum as you both made drinks. Tom watched you from the grill, only half listening to what his dad was saying. Sure, he missed his family but he wanted to get to the bottom of this. Why had you been so closed off recently? He admired your summer dress, how great you looked in it. How happy you looked talking to his family. Your skin looked soft, warm, and darker in random spots. Like bruises.

Tom would shrug it off, if he wasn’t so suspicious. Random bruises come up all the time, but he’d been wary of your situation for a while and finally had something to question. Striding towards you and his mum, he smiled sweetly. “Could I borrow Y/N for just a moment? I wanted to show her something I brought back for her.”

The pair of you walked inside and upstairs, standing around in his old bedroom. You were waiting for him to grab his bag and get the souvenir out, but he stood there, mind occupied.

If you don’t bring it up, it’ll never get sorted, Tom thought to himself. “What are these bruises on your arm and back?” He didn’t want to grab and touch you, only God knows what you’ve been through already.

“Oh,” you sounded shocked, “probably from work.” Shit. That was an obvious lie, Tom knows you work in admin.

“As a receptionist?” Tom wondered sarcastically, knowing you caught yourself out. He folded his arms and stared at you, waiting for the truth. But it doesn’t come as easy, you were so hesitant as something bad might happen. “Just tell me the truth — you can trust me.”

Oh, boy, have you heard that one before. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Really.” You were protecting this abuser. He ruined your life; your body, your mind, your self confidence.

Tom felt ready to just sit on the floor and cry. Past boyfriends had been douches, but this one is far different. But he needed to help you out, this was serious. “You don’t have to lie to me, love. We’ve been friends for longer than I can count, whatever is troubling you, I can help.”

Could he? Was there really a way out of this? Could you get home from work one day and be able to relax? Your mind went to a place where you could do whatever you wanted; you could have a late-night bath, you could enjoy as much food as you wanted, you could see your friends without having a chaperone. It seemed like an unobtainable, blissful life. But you were taking the jump, it was the only way to get it fixed. To talk to someone.

You tried to talk, but words couldn’t come out. Instead, you cried. Pulling you closer, he tried to calm you down but you seemed far too gone. He brought you to his old bed, sitting you down and letting you cry on him. Maybe you’d talk after. For almost 10 minutes he was sat, silent, waiting for you to finish crying.

When you sat up, he wiped your eyes with his sweater and looked at you. “Whatever you’re going through, I can help. I’ve had feelings for a while that something was going on, but you don’t need to lie to me, love.”

It felt good to cry. To let it all out and face no repercussions. It made you believe you could get through this. “He’s so controlling. He oversees every part of my life, he monitors me. What I do, who I’m with, where I go,” you cried, Tom’s hand tightly holding yours, “I told him I had a work dinner, Tom. Last week, before I called you, he told me I contribute nothing to the house and that my job is incomparable to his.”

“Hey, look at me,” Tom spoke quietly, his free hand holding your face. Staring into his eyes made you feel better, there was a glint of hope for you in them, “you’re staying at mine tonight. You aren’t going back there unless you’re accompanied by police. I’m never leaving you alone with him again, you’re safe now.” Safe. A word you’d wanted to feel for years, but never have.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, pressing kisses to the side of your face, “I promise you will never feel the way you did with him again.” You believed Tom and his promises, there was hope for you, after all. You never believed it to be true until now.

#marvel #mcu #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland headcanon #tom holland x reader #tom holland #spider man fic #peter parker x reader #tw abuse

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goblinshork · 4 years ago

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Ok so what abaut Bodyguard and Agony whith a a naga prince that just hates the royal life and dreams of just having a simple life living in a cottage and selling homemade jewelry, so Reader his childhood best friend, personal bodyguard and person who he feel in love whith decides to make his dream come true (bonus if the prince has a sister so the kingdown whont stay whiout a ruler and she helps Reader whith the plan, bonus+ if the prince is kinda huge and scary to other people but he is just a chill dude that likes to make rings and necklaces)

Short scenario please! (Also sorry if its too long, feel free to just ignore this if you whant)

Not too long at all and I think it's an extremely charming idea! Thank you for sharing; big gruff, undercover sweeties are one of the most Choice(tm) archetypes.

This also got super long, but the vibes were singing to me.

Features: Slight angst, happy ending, kissing

Bodyguard + Agony (Monster Ask Meme)

Hands, Touching Hands (m!Naga x gn!Reader) [3.7k]

“Don’t lie, how many names do you remember?”

Alok yawned, curved fangs peaking out from almost-lips.

“None, thankfully,” he said, scratching at his curls, cut short enough that they barely formed.

“Impressive.”

“Oh—no, you won’t distract me. You agree with me don’t you?”

The book Alok had toyed the entire briefing slammed shut, the many bracelets at his wrist clinking for emphasis when you did not answer.

Watching him unfurl his tense length of tail, broad shoulders rising far above you as he 'stood', there was little to say but, "It’s not my place."

"Then it’s not mine, either."

He slunk toward the door and you picked up the book--the monstrous thing--with your arms rather than your hands before following him.

"Just give it time," you said in a reassurance that was too shallow to drown his mood.

Every move forward looked painful as he slithered forward like a child first learning to move against stone rather than soft grass. Unlike when he was a child, he was stilted by frustration rather than inexperience.

The conversation was left dropped, burning like the weight of the tome in your arms. If you were alone, you'd tell him to carry it. But servants, nobles, and royals passed frequently, all low bows and murmurs, moving on a touch quicker than polite.

When you first arrived to the kingdom, a slave dressed sweetly and presented as a gift, you'd marveled at how anyone could find the royal family intimidating when removed from their wealth and status.

Baby yellow skin and soft pink dapples painted everyone of them. Alok, himself, was more pink than yellow, and it reminded you of those delicate, painted dolls you'd press your face against glass to get a closer look at before being shooed away by the shop-keep.

You supposed little had changed since then, except now you were simply stared at, expected to keep your fingers off the pretty pink glass always, always in front of you.

The hallway Alok stopped moving forward in was empty, private; his. Without a word, you tossed the horrible book toward his crossed arms and swept the windows, floors, and ceiling for anything strange. His fumbling for the book, fingers audibly skimming against pages, made you smile.

"It's clear," you nodded. "Workshop, right?"

Alok deflated a bit, too caught between the mention of his workshop and pretending to have perfectly caught the book to keep his anger stoked.

"You're asking now," he said flat, looking from the book to you.

Putting up your hands in mock defeat, you turned, alert enough.

"I'm not angry at you.” The slits that served for his pupils, deep red and small in their focus on the gem he was cutting, turned to you when you said nothing in response.

“Sorry, I--” was dazzled by your eyes? Was enamored by how passionate you are for perfecting that sparkling little gem? “I know.”

“I just wanted to say it.”

You stretched from your place beside the door, perched on one of the few chairs at your disposal in the entire castle, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be patronizing,” Alok grumbled, pausing in his work. “I know...I know very well you must be tired of this, even if you won’t say it.”

The window was suddenly so interesting, your throat burning as you swallowed down the feeling kindling there.

“This is my home,” you said after hearing the scales of his tail shift closer. “There’s nothing to be tired of.”

Slowly, his hand rose to hover over yours, where it lay on your lap, “But you should be. I’d give you anything you needed. They couldn’t stop me.”

Everything you wanted to say was tucked in the patch of air that separated his touch from yours.

Any person, bought and raised to be singularly loyal would hesitate at the offer of freedom, wouldn’t they?

They’d want to grab his hand, wouldn’t they?

You could only guess as a love for a prince was not something to be said aloud unless you were allowed.

And you, a slave turned body guard, were not.

Standing, you scattered the almost-moment with a shake of your head, “I don’t care about freedom half as much as you think I do.”

His hand fell limp to his side, the slits that served as his nose flaring wide, as you continued.

“I’m your bodyguard and I’ll be your children’s bodyguard and I’ll be the same to whoever you choose from that book,” you finished, thoroughly shooing yourself away, wanting so much to run out the door.

Alok said your name quietly, but you remained silent.

And everything was still until it wasn’t.

In one smooth motion propelled by his sheer size, Alok stretched to the book and hurled it out the open window.

“No, you won’t. I’ll be their prince,” he said low, body suddenly too large for the room. “But I won’t be their king.”

You did run, then.

Perhaps the only place off-limits for a would-be king allergic to potential suitors was his sister’s drawing room.

Adur payed you no attention as she demanded entertainment from the brightly colored darlings and dark patterned beauties of the upper echelon.

“Did you know, I simply adore the pattern of your bangles lately,” she cooed, pointing to a decorated tail. “So perfectly in style.”

She continued on, picking this and that to sigh over, as you stood against the corner that provided the best view of the room, next to the door.

You recognized each piece she fawned over as being similar to something Alok had on display or nearly-done in his workshop. Ah, to know a magician’s tricks.

Melting into a squat, you let their voices wash over you. No heart could hurt for long listening to women enjoy court gossip as much as this bunch did...from a distance.

When you, Alok, and Adur were younger, the rules seemed less stone and more like blades of grass, flexible and beneath you. Adur set you in front of her always revolving group of friends and tried to fit tail bangles around your thighs and waist. Alok insisted you sit side-by-side while studying geography, arithmetic, and etiquette. You lay between them on sunny afternoons, napping, legs touching tails.

But everything golden goes grey eventually.

“Well, do tell me. Did he throw it in the fire?”

You turned from the window, swapping red, setting sun for sharp, red eyes, “Out of the window.”

The room was empty but for you and her now. Adur pacing around, tail making quick work of circling the room as she read from her collection of letters.

“Still the amount of melodrama I expected so,” she shrugged, raising shoulders toward her pleased mouth as a silent finish to her sentence. “I, on the other hand, did pick.”

You rose, legs tingling from the sudden change. “Who?”

“Prince Talsa,” she said after cutting open a letter with her claw, “I’ve already decided on a short engagement and a respectable wedding down south. Perhaps closer to his kingdom than ours.”

“Talsa? Not rare one who everyone’s after?”

Adur looked at you as though you should know better before deigning to explain, “Prince Talsa is rather plain looking for a naga, yes, but that’s just the point.”

“Go on,” you said, wanting so much to be distracted.

“Think about it,” Adur scoffed. “Rare, beautiful babies create wonder amongst people, but children who look as though they could be born anywhere....don’t you see the appeal?”

She leaned against the window, long black hair obscuring her pink and yellow face, “They would be royalty that even the most common of folk could feel familiar to--feel endeared to. Even someone as devoid of charm or pretense as Alok could gain some favor. From their birth, I’ll have them attend every little festival and celebration. Their bond with the people will be unshakable.”

“You’ll make the best queen,” you said, unthinking to the implication.

“Has something happened to Alok?”

“No, you ju--”

Adur turned to you, delicate face empty, “It doesn’t matter what we know. He’s the eldest and alive and destroying a book won’t change that.”

Your hands shook as you laced them together, risking at least your life, by asking:

“What if we could change it?”

Everything in the little room lacked splendor, save the jewelry that her brother displayed to no one but himself, built only to separate Alok from his mentor. A failed attempt to elevate a man too gargantuan to grow further.

Even the flooring was rough on the tail, not smooth stone but brick for retaining heat. Only care for function within these four walls.

Adur noted her brother’s tail was bare as she swept over the lacking room, only his leather work belt draped over the apex where tail met torso. Every bit of jewelry he wore crowded his wrists and fingers, noisy as he worked on some large bangle unfamiliar to her.

He looked haggard, frown too ugly and deep to be a mere product of concentration. Grey tickled the roots of his bangs, pronounced enough to shine in the lamplight. Alok was getting too old to be a prince with only time for his hobby.

“Sometimes I think it would be kinder to simply put you out of your misery,” Adur said, closing the door behind her.

Alok’s back tensed, but he did not pause his work, “I’m surprised you said it out loud, but don’t say it like a joke.”

“Don’t be so serious,” Adur sighed, “of course it was a joke.”

“Where is--”

“Your human delight? Running errands for me.”

Alok did turn then, face flickering through emotions too fast to name, “They’re just as much your dear friend as mine, you little viper.”

“Forgive my callousness, but I find you respond to little else,” Adur said, picking at the sheer fabric of her top so it draped correctly against her arm again. “And perhaps they are my friend. But they are not just yours.”

“I won’t be king...even if they weren’t here.”

Adur laughed in a sizzling tone, forked tongue dancing with humor, “Oh? And I suppose your little fantasies of running away involve you doing so alone?”

Only the flames licking back and forth in the small forge answered her.

“You’re too old to be deluding yourself like this,” she went on, dropping a bottle and a sheer robe on Alok’s work desk. “It’s time to make choices once and for all, brother.”

“I’m not--”

“I’m not asking you to rule. You’d be pathetic at it, yes, I know. If not for our dear human friend, you’d have flunked every tutor save for your precious jewelry maker.”

Alok curled back over his tail, fingers picking at the fabric of the robe his sister had dropped. “Then what are you asking?”

Hand on the doorknob, Adur smiled, “if you had your way and left to live like a common man with your human, would you really never come back?”

“Never.”

Adur opened the door. “Good.”

The drider--Woodnet? Woodne? Wodner?--stayed near the the door as you did, but unlike you his sleek, black legs rested on a few thin lines of webbing where wall met ceiling.

Slowly, Alok raised his face to address the bodyguard, entirely unused to being the short one. Worse still was the struggle to match sights with the correct pair of the drider’s many blinking eyes. If you were here, you’d have nudged him to follow your lead already.

If you were here...this wouldn’t be happening in the first place. Just another wishful thought to swallow down as Alok struggled to stay polite in the face of his father’s prime bodyguard.

“Outside the room is fine,” Alok said in a clipped tone, turning as he did to avoid dealing with anymore niceties.

“Forgive me for questioning, Prince Alok,” the drider said, voice drifting down like floating silk. “But bathing is when you are most vulnerable. I can not help but object to the risk.”

The drider polished each word, in no hurry to finish his sentence and Alok’s eyes rolled once--twice--thrice by the time there was silence. If only this were any guard other than his father’s favorite.

“I understand,” Alok said. “But, the windows are trapped and you will be guarding the only entrance.”

The sound of burdened legs skittering down stone, followed by the opening and closing of the lone, stone door was his answer.

Driders were generally no longer friends of Alok’s kingdom. Wodnel....no, Wodni perhaps, was a relic of a time long gone, when his father was just proving himself a leader of a nation. That Wodnir--that was it, Wodnir--was so protective of Alok, having sparsely been involved with him and having been enslaved through ruthless, warmongering means made Alok’s shoulders bunch, the muscles between protruding over scales.

Is that how it was between you and he? Did you feign fondness and care or was it true? Was it true but maligned of him to hope for it due to how you came to be near him? Because of he was?

Alok disrobed and slunk into the hot water, hoping to drown his pithy doubts that crowded so large in his mind.

Flakes of shed rose to the top the longer he soaked, proof of a difficult shed. There was sure to be more bits to come as he scrubbed himself with the, apparently, ‘to die for’ body scrub his sister had left last week.

You were usually the one to soothe his bubbling stress in a life of constant politics and decorum, but the bits of dead skin were proof enough that Alok truly was getting too old for delusions. You’d only been away for a week and a spare number of days and here he was, so tense that not even a hot bath could unfurl him.

Ugh.

Politics and decorum. How would he survive tonight without you? Adur was announcing her engagement tonight, in tandem with the nobles emerging from their collective sheds at the tail end of the Harvest Festival.

Alok scrubbed himself raw, hoping to emerge a new man who could weather life half as well as everyone around him. But the harder he lathed himself in soap, the clearer the truth rang.

If only he could have you.

You had relieved Wodnier of his duties, thanking him with a bow, and standing stiff beside the door for precious minutes, waiting for his delicate range of hearing to wane.

As an apprentice, you had met Wodnier often enough to know he wished you well as much as any spider did a fly.

Hammering against your chest, you feared the vibration of your heart was loud enough for him to hear. And there was always a chance the door shutting at the end of the curved hallway was a trap; that Wodnier still stood in Alok’s quarters and was not making his way back to the King.

But you didn’t have time to be safe, only quick.

Jittered by adrenaline, you sprinted to Alok’s room---toe first, heel last--and back, holding your breath once you made it back to the door of the bath.

Sweat pooled against your forehead, but nothing sprang toward you sans the faint sounds of Alok bathing.

You slipped past the door, the pack in your hands bulky enough that the door opened wider than you’d wanted, the hinge creaking.

“Alok?”

The figure behind the curtain froze before calling back your name.

“We don’t have much time, Alok,” you pressed in a sure voice, but your legs wobbled as you neared the curtain. “I’m....I’m running away and I’m taking you with me.”

“What?”

Coming past the curtain, your chest could barely contain your quick breathing. His hair was devoid of any gray, blacker than pitch as it fell just above his ear holes and forehead. Muddy brown and maroon scales were sleek and wet, droplets rolling down his body, even near his---

You looked back up quickly, away from where his belt always covered. “I mean, I want us to run away and we need to go now.”

Having followed your wandering gaze toward the apex of his stomach and tail, Alok frantically looked toward his arms, the muddy water, “What in the fuck is this?”

“Adur is helping us,” is all you said and it was all Alok seemed to need as he picked up the bottle the dye had been in, nodding. “She said it’ll only last until your next shed but, by then, hopefully....”

“She wants to be queen very much,” he murmured.

You tore open the pack, reminding yourself that time was short, and held them out. “Yes. So, we need to go.”

“You have no idea--,” Alok started, before interrupting himself. “I need something from the workshop.”

“We don’t have time.”

He shook his head as he took what you offered, dressing himself in plain leather and thick, scratchy wool. “It will be quick.”

You opened your mouth--- “Please.” --but couldn’t keep firm in the face of his pleading.

“Okay.”

Alok threw a few rings, bangles, and tools into the bag.

“Only enough to sell and get started again,” he assured.

But as you turned to leave the room, his hand was on your arm, pulling you back.

“We--”

“I love you,” he breathed, holding two thick, ornate bangles in his free hand. Both were decorated, from the side you could see, with marigolds, jewels gleaming in the center of their petals. You recognized each one.

One was the size to fit a large tail while the other...

“Alok.”

“I want us to leave belonging to one another.”

Your shaking hands dropped the large bag and his slid to hold both yours in his large one. “If we leave together, we’ll live together too won’t we?”

Even your head shook now, from side to side, hoping to discern the moment as waking or dreaming. “Alok. Of course, because...Of course we will.”

“Oh, please say it,” he said, tugging you nearer still.

He repeated your name and like a spell, you found your words, “We’ll live together because I love you, too.”

His thin mouth, soft and bloodless, fell to yours from his full height, his body curling over you as he pressed against your lips again.

“Let me put it on you,” he whispered, mouth moving against yours as you clung to him.

“Hurry and then we can....Just the bangles and then we must go before it’s too late.”

Careful of his claws, he lifted you to sit on his work table before slipping his own bangle over the small tip of his tail and up further, until it stuck in place under his belt.

There was no time to remove your pants, to mold the bangle against your bare thigh as was intended, but Alok’s thick hands skimming around the metal the entire way up burned as though he were doing just that.

You slid off the table, when the bangle was snug, to melt against him for one brief moment of loving calm, your face rubbing against his neck.

You didn’t have time for more.

After disentangling from his tight hold, you threw the bag at him, near tears as he scrambled to catch it. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m so glad you’re going to be mine instead of a king.”

And then you ran, hand in hand.

“Hey! Heeeeey,” one of the children yelled as the whole group of five ran toward you, kicking up dust on the dirt-packed road. “My momma said that snake man eats kids who don’t do chores!”

“My papa said he can’t help with the festival because he’s growing more arms!”

“That’s dumb, Brittany. My papa is smarter and he said the same thing as Corey’s momma. He’s a kid eater!”

The group shrieked in delighted horror as they squabbled on the specifics of what was really, truly going on in their village.

You hiked the basket in your arms higher after several attempts to respond, loudly telling them to pay attention or you’d leave.

As though pulled forward by strings, they straightened as still as a child could, a few even holding their hands over their mouths to keep silent.

“All of your parents are right,” you nodded, “Every two months he must curb his huge appetite and force back his new, child-grabbing arms so he doesn’t hurt the very naughty children of this village.”

They all clamored to stress their innocence in a cacophony of babbling that soon grew into questions.

“Is that why you live with him? ‘Cause you protect the village?”

“And him,” you said.

“At the same time?!”

“Of course, it’s my job. Now go back toward the smithy before you find out just how many arms he has.”

Lunging forward in jest was enough to urge the children away, all of them teasing the other that they would be last to get there and a snake man’s lunch.

“You’re horrible,” Alok groaned, scales pale pink and yellow from a successful shed. “Soon, they’ll be grown-ups, running us off.”

Hefting the basket onto the dining table, you laughed, “they adore you in secret.”

The cottages here were baked of mud, hay, and a few supportive beams of wood and yours was no different. There was no splendor in the room-less house, but it was truly yours and his. And that was luxury enough.

“They had enough this time?”

You shook the canteen of dye, moving to stand next to him on the low hammock that served as bed, “And the next shipment of birch will contain enough to last us three months or more.”

Alok smoothed his claw down your face, his own expression wistful, “I feel too content to explain.”

You pressed your nose against the pink of his jaw, letting him raise you to straddle him.

“Then show me.”

#monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucking #monster romance #exophillia #terato #monster boyfriend #naga x reader #naga boyfriend #naga x human #fluffy.foam #new.shork #goblin.writes #conch.answered #alienfromagalaxy #I love adur and it is a shame how much of her had to be cut to make this not a mess #exophilia

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iluvchanniesposts · 3 years ago

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Honourifics!

lee!felix and seungmin. ler!chan.

—————————————————-

Bang Chan has never been the leader or hyung to ever care about honourifics. Regardless, he will still punish the boys if they joke about it and take advantage. Felix and Seungmin were doing a Vlive together with thousands of people watching. What they didn’t know was that Chan was also watching but from the room next door.

The boys were messing around and reading funny comments aloud. “Bang Chan is so old!” Seungmin joked, causing Felix to snort and almost fall off his chair. “Yeah, Chan is almost thirty!” Felix joined in, putting emphasis on Chan’s name to joke about not using honourifics. All the comments were from Stay saying that they will be punished if Chan found out, that he will. “What’s Chan going to do? He needs a ladder to reach me.” Seungmin laughed once again as they both fell into hysterics. Their laughter was soon cut off by the door opening, turning round to see a very devilish Chan standing there. He looked playful but was being fake annoyed at them not using honourifics.

“Chan this, Chan that, huh?” He edged towards the boys who now looked very flustered. “We were only joking!” Felix threw his hands up in innocence but Chan only cocked an eyebrow. “You sure made a laugh out of it!” Chan stated, the boys trying to stifle their laughs. “Do you know what else is really funny?” Chan asked in suspense. Seungmin and Felix exchanged confused looks, not knowing where it was headed. “Tickling Seungmin.” Chan stated before pulling him off his chair backwards and onto the floor. He had pinned his arms under his knees and started wiggling his fingers into Seungmin’s armpits. “Channie Hyung nohoho!” He wriggled under Chan’s grasp. “Oh so now you want to use honourifics?” He teased as he leaned down a blew a raspberry onto Seungmin’s neck. Felix was utterly amused, pointing the camera down to show Stay. “I’m sohohorry! PLEASE!” He begged and begged but needed his punishment. Chan’s hands moved from his armpits to his stomach, poking and squeezing it all around. “CHANNIE HYUHUHUNG PLEASEEEE!” He dragged the last of his sentence out in despair as he gasped for his breath. He looked at Felix, feeling betrayed for not helping him. Unfortunately, his attention was quickly drawn back to Chan as he dug his thumbs into Seungmin’s hip bones, causing him to thrash around violently. “NOHOHO MORE!” He threw his head side to side, trying to wiggle out from under Chan’s grasp. The Vlive was still ongoing, but Felix was nowhere to be found. Chan stood up and left the room, shortly returning with Felix over his shoulder.

“I DONT WANT IT!” He was punching Chan’s back the best he could in attempts to let him down and run away, but Felix also had to pay the price. “Seungmin, help me.” Chan asked as he laid Felix in front of the camera. Seungmin helped Chan by sitting on Felix’s torso and pinning him down whilst Chan sat on his legs. “Nohoho Channie Hyung, I’m sorry!” Felix begged desperately. “Sorry won’t cut it, Lix.” Chan shrugged before pulling his toes back and scratching his nails under them. Felix tried kicking his legs and curling his toes back over but the boys were way too strong. “NAHAHAHA PLEASEEEEEE!” His screeches could have been heard throughout the whole building. Chan’s fingernails were scratching from the bottom to the top of his foot, making it jolt with every stroke. Seungmin also joined in by prodding at Felix’s collarbone, making his shoulders go up to his ears.

“I CANT DO THIHIHIS!” He yelped at the four hands torturing him. They both decided he had enough, helping him up off the floor. “And that kids, is why you respect your elders.” Chan smiled at the camera before leaving back to his room. “Oh my god, that was horrible.” Felix said, slightly out of breath. They laughed for the rest of the evening at Stay’s comments and tweets of their screen recordings.

#stray kids #tickle #bang chan #skz x reader #lee minho #skz #tickle fic #ler #stray kids minho #skz smut #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #tickle art #bts v #btsgif #skz soft hours #skz soft thoughts

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

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Stream Stresses-SBI Au

This is a Brother!Technoblade, Brother!Wilbur, Brother!Tommyinnit, and Father!Philza x gn!reader in the SBI inc Au. I hope that this is written how the anon that requested it wants it, but I’m not sure. So basically, the SBI is a real family dynamic, the thing is that all of Philza’s children, Y/N, Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur are all well known streamers and everybody’s fans know this and love the family dynamic that you four have, because you’re literally family. So yeah. Here you go, I hope you enjoy.

Check out my masterlist here!

When Y/N makes fun of their brother, chat jumps to his defense by saying some not so nice things about Y/N. The mean things cause Y/N to shut down their stream with tears in their eyes, worrying their father, Philza.

Y/N’s POV

“Hello chat!” I exclaimed, adjusting my headphones as people slowly began to flood the chat, “How are we today?” A variety of responses flew through my chat before my question was returned to me. “How am I today? I’m doing good! Thank you for asking!” My eyes scanned my notification and I couldn’t help but smile at the subs and donos rolling through. I quickly thank everyone by name before clapping, “Okay chat, today we are going to be playing Minecraft. But we’re not going to play on the SBI server, no we’re going to attempt speedrunning!” I explained. I eagerly watched my chat explode in support, a lot of ‘POGS’ flying by my eyes. “Well let’s get started, shall we?”

I quickly opened my Minecraft and adjusted my stream so that my viewers could see what I was doing. “What should we name the first world? Yes we’re naming them, what monster does not name their speedrun worlds?” Random names flew through the chat, until one caught my eyes. “Tommy! We’ll name this one Tommy so when it let’s me down it won’t be anything new!” I cheered, typing the name into the world box, giggling to myself. For the most part the chat found it funny, but I did see some people say some mean stuff for making fun of my brother.

I quickly cleared my throat and shook it off, “Here we go chat!” I exclaimed before loading in the world. I spawn in an acacia biome next to a desert, “So far Tommy’s treating us pretty good huh?” I joked, rushing over to a tree and punching it. I gained a bunch of wood and then began running through the desert in search of a village. I found one rather quickly and began my raid. I got everything from the chests and then found the iron golem and hit it to get it to chase me so I could build up and kill it… Only problem is I wasn’t quick enough.

I let out screech as the iron golem flung me up in the air, dealing a crazy amount of damage to the point where when I landed, I died. I gave a quick huff and pout as I exited out of the world. “Okay… What did I say, should have been expected to be let down by Tommy!” I exclaimed, my eyes scanning the chat. A few people laughed, but a lot of them were calling me horrible. They were saying that I shouldn’t blame my inability to play the game on my brother. It caused a pain to strike in my heart, because that’s not what I was doing at all. Really mean names began flying through my chat causing me to clear my throat and look away. “Um… Let’s try again,” I mumbled, creating a new world.

“We’re just going to keep going down the list” I announced, trying to bring my energy back up as I typed the name “Wilbur” into the world box before hitting ‘create world’ and loading in. I let my eyes dance back to chat that seemed to go back to normal, but there were still some really mean people in chat. This time I spawned in a plains biome next to a village. I got pretty far this time. I made it all the way to the nether, even found a fortress, but my excitement about it died pretty quickly… because I did too.

“NOOO!” I shouted at the ‘You Died’ screen. “I didn’t even see that blaze there! Damn it Wilbur!” I exclaimed, exciting out of the world once more. My eyes looked over to chat again, praying that the haters had gotten bored and left… My prayers were not answered. Instead, there were probably the most amount of haters I’d ever seen in my chat before. Every message was filled with hate. Telling me that I wasn’t good enough, that I should just quit, that my brothers were so much better than I was and there was no reason for me to even continue. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help the tears that formed in my eyes and began streaming down my cheeks.

“Ummm… Thanks for coming. I’m going to end stream now,” I sniffed, closing Minecraft and going to my streaming settings. “Bye,” I whimpered out before ending the stream. I sat there frozen for a minute before breaking down into sob. Why do they hate me?

*POV Switch*

Philza’s POV

A grin crossed my face as my phone lit up with a twitch notification. I quickly shifted my attention to my phone screen to figure out which child it was that was going live. It was Y/N! I quickly set up my phone in such a way that I could ‘watch’ their stream while I made dinner for everyone. “Hello chat!” I heard them exclaim, “How are we today!”

It really warmed my heart to watch my children stream. All four of them had worked extremely hard to get where they are today. I did everything I could to understand the Twitch community so I could support my children as they achieved their dreams. Sure it was hard at times, me trying to keep up with everything in all their streams but also when they’re all streaming at the same time and just screaming at each other, but we make it work.

My focus turned to the food that I was making. Footsteps entered the kitchen pulling my attention away from the stream, “Hey Dadza,” Techno’s monotone voice greeted me from behind. “Hello Techno,” I greeted back, throwing him a smile over my shoulder. “Is Y/N streaming?” Techno asked, walking to the refrigerator, pulling it open and grabbing a water bottle. I nodded my head at the question. “Yeah, they’re speed running,” I responded, turning my head back to the veggies I was cutting for dinner. Techno let out a hum before turning his attention to my phone.

As I cooked, I could hear Techno let out small laughs at what they’re sibling was saying on their stream. Twentyish minutes had gone by before Techno spoke actual words, “What the fuck,” He muttered, getting closer to my phone. “Language… What’s going on?” I asked, still focused on making dinner. “Y/N is crying,” He explained. My head snapped to my phone and sure enough, tears were streaming down their face. “Bye” they croaked out before the stream just ended. Not wasting any more time, I grabbed my phone and I ran out of the kitchen and toward Y/N’s room.

As I grew closer, I could hear sobs coming from their room causing my heart to sink in my chest. I gave a quick knock on the door before barreling in. Y/N was still sitting in their gaming chair, hunched over into themselves, their hands muffiling the sobs falling from their lips. “Oh honey,” I whispered, closing the door behind me. Y/N’s head shot up and their red rimmed eyes met mine. Another loud sob broke from their mouth causing my heart to hurt even more. I took a few quick steps forward to get to them and offer them comfort. Y/N rose from their gaming chair and fell into my open arms. I quickly wrapped my arms around them in a tight hug. “I’ve got you honey,” I murmured, “I’ve got you.”

At some point, I slowly made my way to their bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard, pulling them to sit across my lap, burying their face in my chest like all those years ago when they were a lot younger. I couldn’t help but be reminded of the afternoons that they and their brothers would go outside to play and ride bikes and they would come back in with scraped and bloodied knees and palms. I would pull them into my lap, dry their tears, and help them calm down. It’s a bittersweet memory. It feels nice to think back, but under these circumstances? Not so much.

Slowly but surely, Y/N’s sobs died down into simple sniffles before stopping all together. “You okay?” I questioned softly, leaning back ever so slightly so I could meet my child’s eyes. Their puffy ears peered up as they slowly nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be okay,” they muttered out resting their head back on my shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked carefully, not wanting to upset them again. A soft sigh left Y/N’s mouth, “I suppose I should. It’s best not to bottle it up,” they thought aloud causing me to smile just a little bit. A small bit of pride welled up inside me of how grown up they sounded.

The smile quickly faded from my lips as my child explained what had happened on their stream. How chat had turned on them and the mean things that they said. I could feel my blood begin to boil. I was extremely pissed at not only chat, but at the mods for not stopping it. But I had to remain calm on the outside, for Y/N’s sake.

“I’m so sorry that happened honey. You don’t deserve that. Nothing they said is true okay? You work so hard and it shows because you’re so good at what you do. Your brothers are good at what they do too. You guys are on equal playing feels and are all exceptional streamers. You deserve all good things honey. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to mod. You’re never streaming without me modding again. Do you understand me?” I rambled, staring at my child curled in my lap. A small giggle sounded in the air causing me to relax ever so slightly. “Yeah. I understand you dad… Thank you.”

Before I could respond, there was a small knock on the door. “Come in,” Y/N called, staring curiously at the door. It swung open and there stood my three other children peering nervously into the room. After standing in the doorway in an awkward silence for a moment, Tommy lets out a loud scoff before pushing his way into the room and crawls up on the best next to us. Tommy then surprises me by wrapping his arms around his sibling and gives them a tight squeeze, “You’re a good streamer Y/N,” I heard him mumble in his sibling's ear. “Chat can be just a little stupid sometimes.” Another giggle passes through their lips as Y/N slides off of my lap and sits in between Tommy and I. “Thanks Tommy,” they whisper back, turning their body to properly hug their brother back.

The closing of the door pulled my attention away from my youngest two. Wilbur and Techno were now also completely in the room and were heading toward the bed as well. I moved over so that one of them could sit in between Y/N and I and the other could go sit next to Tommy. Wilbur took the place beside me, sending Techno over by Tommy. Not saying anything, Wilbur turned his body and reached over and wrapped his long arms around Y/N and Tommy, trapping them in their own hug. For the first time ever, neither of them complained. Neither told him to get off, simply just accepted the affection from their brother.

And to my surprise and delight, Techno leaned onto Tommy and wrapped his arms around the two as well, his arms only able to wrap around Y/N. The four didn’t say anything as they laid in the cuddle pile. I couldn’t stop the tears that formed in my eyes. They hadn’t done this in years. Before Wilbur and Techno hit their teen years, the four of them would cuddle in piles like this all the time. When I couldn’t find any of them, I would only have to find one to find all of them. But once the teen years began, the two eldest felt that they were too cool to cuddle with their siblings and the piles came to a stop. It warms my heart to see them do this, even if it’s under really shitty circumstances.

One by one, their breathing evened out. One by one, they fell asleep. Once I was sure all were asleep, I slowly and carefully got off of the bed and managed to do so without waking any of them. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, made sure the ringer and flash were off, before snapping many photos. I didn’t plan on sharing them with everyone, they were just for me to have and to hold. Maybe I’ll print one and put it in my office.

I carefully slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me before heading back to the kitchen. The kitchen was exactly how I left it when I fled to Y/N’s room after seeing them cry. As quietly as I could, I put everything away. I decided I was no longer in a mood to cook. Besides, on days like today, I think Y/N deserves to have their favorite carry out… Don’t you?

I don’t know if I liked how this one turned out, so let me know what you think! Leave a like if you did enjoy it and maybe even reply or reblog or even send me an ask telling me what you thought!!

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kingandfireheart · 4 years ago

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Lucien Vanserra Sass Appreciation Post

For more serious Lucien content see my other posts:

What the fuck is happening in the Autumn Court series Part 1 (Eris) and Part 2 (Lady of the Autumn Court)

What stories are left: Lucien

When Lucien introduces himself:

"Lucien," my captor said quietly, the name echoing with a hint of a snarl. "Behave."

Lucien went rigid, but he hopped off the edge of the table and bowed deeply to me. "My apologies, lady." Another joke at my expense. "I'm Lucien. Courtier and emissary." He gestured to me with a flourish. "Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold."

When Lucien is intrigued by Feyre:

"Well," Lucien said, his remaining russet eye fixed on me, "you don't look half as bad now. A relief, I suppose, since you're to live with us. Though the tunic isn't as pretty as a dress."

When Lucien wants to know if Feyre thinks he's hot:

"Thank you for the meal," I said. It was all I could think of. "Won't you stay for wine?" Lucien said with sweet venom from where he lounged in his seat. I braced my hands on my chair to rise. "I'm tired. I'd like to sleep." "It's been a few decades since I last saw one of you," Lucien drawled, "but you humans never change, so I don't think I'm wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant, when surely the men back home aren't much to look at." At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it. "You're High Fae," I said tightly. "I'd ask why you'd even bother inviting me here at all-or dining with me." Fool-I really should have been killed ten times over already. Lucien said, "True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this"-he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face-"surely we're not so miserable to look at."

When Feyre leaves their first dinner together:

He gave a distant nod and motioned for me to leave. Dismissed. Like the lowly human I was. Lucien propped his chin on a fist and gave me a lazy half smile. Enough. I got to my feet and backed toward the door. Putting my back to them would have been like walking away from a wolf, sparing my life or no. They said nothing when I slipped out the door. A moment later, Lucien's barking laugh echoed into the halls, followed by a sharp, vicious growl that shut him up.

When Lucien notices Feyre checking him out:

Lucien paused, and I found him smirking at me, making the scar even more brutal. "Were you admiring my sword, or just contemplating killing me, Feyre?"

When Lucien is a sarcastic motherfucker:

“So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?” I gave a pointed glance toward Tamlin’s baldric, the warrior’s clothes, Lucien’s sword. Lucien smirked. “We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelings–”

When Lucien describes Amaratha perfectly:

"What happened to the magic to make it act that way?" Lucien let out a harsh laugh. "Something was sent from the shit-holes of Hell," he said, then glanced around and swore. "I shouldn't have said that. If word got back to her-"

When they run into the Boggee:

"I heard its voice in my head. It told me to look." Lucien rolled his shoulders. "Well, thank the Cauldron that you didn't. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day." He gave me a wan smile. I didn't return it.

When he gives Feyre a title:

"Are you a warrior, though?" Would you be able to kill me if it ever came to that? Lucien huffed a laugh. "Not as good as Tam, but I know how to handle my weapons." He patted the hilt of his sword. "Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress?

When Lucien just needs someone to spar with:

“Do you ever stop being so serious and dull?" "Do you ever stop being such a prick?" I snapped back. Dead—really, truly, I should have been dead for that. But Lucien grinned at me. "Much better.

When Lucien and Feyre spend quality time together:

Over the next three days, I found myself joining Lucien on Andras's old patrol while Tamlin hunted the grounds for the Bogge, unseen by us. Despite being an occasional bastard, Lucien didn't seem to mind my company, and he did most of the talking, which was fine; it left me to brood over the consequences of firing a single arrow. An arrow. I never fired a single one during those three days we rode along the border. That very morning I'd spied a red doe in a glen and aimed out of instinct, my arrow poised to fly right into her eye as Lucien sneered that she was not a faerie, at least. But I'd stared at her-fat and healthy and content-and then slackened the bow, replaced the arrow in my quiver, and let the doe wander on.

When Lucien diagnoses Faerie problems perfectly:

A brush of ice slithered across my nape. "He would be that brutal?" Lucien studied the wine in his goblet. "You don't hold on to power by being everyone's friend. And among the faeries, lesser and High Fae alike, a firm hand is needed. We're too powerful, and too bored with immortality, to be checked by anything else."

When Lucien is told to Back Off, so he exacts his revenge:

Lucien's russet eye was bright, though the smile he gave me didn't meet it. The face of Tamlin's emissary-more court-trained and calculating than I'd seen him yet. "I'm unavailable today," he said. He jerked his chin to Tamlin. "He'll go with you." Tamlin shot his friend a look of disdain that he took few pains to hide. His usual baldric was armed with more knives than I'd seen before, and their ornate metal handles glinted as he turned to me, his shoulders tight. "Whenever you want to go, just say so." The claws of his free hand slipped back under his skin. No. I almost said it aloud as I turned pleading eyes to Lucien. Lucien merely patted my shoulder as he passed by. "Perhaps tomorrow, human."

When Lucien hides:

"I had to go sort out some hotheads on the northern border-official emissary business," he said, setting down the hunting knife he'd been cleaning, a long, vicious blade. "I got back in time to hear your little spat with Tam, and decided I was safer up here. I'm glad to hear your human heart has warmed to me, though. At least I'm not on the top of your killing list."

When Lucien and Feyre become friends after he tells her how to trap a Suriel:

Another riddle-and another bit of information. I said, "It's a good thing that while you have superior hearing, I possess superior abilities to keep my mouth shut." He snorted as I took the knife from the table and turned to procure the bow from my room. "I think I'm starting to like you-for a murdering human."

When Lucien is day drinking and living his best life:

“Would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here, High Lord?" "Ah. The Suriel told you nothing important, did it?" That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest. "He also said that you liked being brushed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats." Tamlin tipped his head to the sky and roared with laughter. Despite myself, I let out a quiet laugh. "I might die of surprise," Lucien said behind me. "You made a joke, Feyre." I turned to look at him with a cool smile. "You don't want to know what the Suriel said about you." I flicked my brows up, and Lucien lifted his hands in defeat. "I'd pay good money to hear what the Suriel thinks of Lucien," Tamlin said. A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle's contents and chuckling with a muttered, "Brushed.”

When Lucien is incredibly casual for a guy going to an orgy:

What?”

Lucien laughed. “Yes—all those female faeries around you were females for Tamlin to pick. It’s an honor to be chosen, but it’s his instincts that select her.”

“But you were there—and other male faeries.” My face burned so hot that I began sweating. That was why those three horrible faeries had been there—and they’d thought that just by my presence, I was happy to comply with their plans.

“Ah.” Lucien chuckled. “Well, Tam’s not the only one who gets to perform the rite tonight. Once he makes his choice, we’re free to mingle. Though it’s not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too.

When Lucien is the mom friend:

"You look . . . refreshed," Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. "Sleep well?" "Like a babe." I smiled as him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. "What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded. I pointed my fork to Tamlin. "Ask him, he did it." Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement.

When Lucien loves drama:

"Accountable?" I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. "You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!" Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. "While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room," Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. "Faerie pig!" I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left.

When Lucien bolts:

“I had to keep my hands clenched at my sides to avoid wiping my sweaty palms on the skirts of my gown as I reached the dining room, and immediately contemplated bolting upstairs and changing into a tunic and pants. But I knew they’d already heard me, or smelled me, or used whatever heightened senses they had to detect my presence, and since fleeing would only make it worse, I found it in myself to push open the double doors.

Whatever discussion Tamlin and Lucien had been having stopped, and I tried not to look at their wide eyes as I strode to my usual place at the end of the table.

“Well, I’m late for something incredibly important,” Lucien said, and before I could call him on his outright lie or beg him to stay, the fox-masked faerie vanished.

When Feyre goes to a party:

"Cauldron boil me," Lucien whistled as I came down the stairs. "She looks positively Fae." ...

I squared my shoulders, disinclined to let him see how much his words or voice or sheer well-being impacted me. Not yet. "I'm surprised I'm even allowed to participate tonight." "Unfortunately for you and your neck," Lucien countered, "tonight's just a party." "Do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?" Lucien winked at me, and Tamlin laughed and offered me his arm. "He's right,"....

"So there's singing and dancing and excessive drinking," Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. "And dallying," he added with a wicked grin.

When Lucien plays a prank:

"I also remember you telling me how witchberries were harmless, and the next thing I knew, I was half-delirious and falling all over myself," I said, recalling the afternoon from a few weeks ago. I'd had hallucinations for hours afterward, and Lucien had laughed himself sick-enough so that Tamlin had chucked him into the reflection pool...."

When Feyre gets drunk of Faerie Wine:

“Tam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.”

“Always looking after your best interests,” I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass. It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned.

“Human fool,” he hissed.

But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next.

“I’m going to paint you,” I said, and giggled—actually giggled—as the words popped out.

"Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered, and I laughed again.”

When Lucien is hungover and third-wheeling:

Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, “And where were you last night?” Lucien’s metal eye narrowed on me. “I’ll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol.” Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, “With some company.” He gave me a sly grin. “Rumor has it you two didn’t come back until after dawn.” I glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I’d practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin’s gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous. “You bit my neck on Fire Night,” I said under my breath. “If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.” He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. “Nothing?” His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him. “Nothing,” I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin’s mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure?” he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. “I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said.”

When Lucien drops one of the best lines in the book:

"I see," I lied, not quite seeing at all. Lucien chuckled, sensing it, and I glared sidelong at him. "You've been noticeably absent again." He used the dagger to clean his nails. "I've been busy. So have you, I take it." "What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"

When Lucien doesn't know what is coming in the future:

Downstairs, Lucien snorted at the sight of me. "Those clothes are enough to convince me I never want to enter the human realm." "I'm not sure the human realm would know what to do with you," I said. Lucien's smile was edged, his shoulders tight as he gave a sharp look behind me to where Tam was waiting in front of a gilded carriage. When he turned back, that metal eye narrowed. "I thought you were smarter than this."

When Lucien admires Feyre's attitude:

“Don’t you understand what Rhys is?” “I do!” I barked, then sighed. “I do,” I repeated, and glared at the eye in my palm. “It’s done with. So you needn’t hold to whatever oath you swore to Tamlin to protect me—or feel like you owe me anything for saving you from Amarantha. I would have done it just to wipe the smirk off your brothers’ faces.” Lucien clicked his tongue, but his remaining russet eye shone. “I’m glad to see you didn’t sell your lively human spirit or stubbornness to Rhys.”

When Lucien is a fashionista:

Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.

When game recognize game

“Cursebreaker,” some murmured. “Blessed,” others whispered.

I made a show of looking surprised—surprised and yet accepting of the Cauldron’s choice. Tamlin’s face was taut with shock, the Hybern royals’ nothing short of baffled.

But I turned to Lucien, my light radiating so brightly that it bounced off his metal eye. A friend beseeching another for help. I reached a hand toward him.

Beyond us, I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it.

Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow.

When Lucien is scared of Amren:

“I think Amren would probably deny that she feels any affection for us—”

“Amren is a bedtime story they told us as younglings to make us behave. Amren was who would drink my blood and carry me to hell if I acted out of line. And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

“We don’t—we don’t enforce protocol and rank here.”

“Obviously. Rhys lives in a town house, by the Cauldron.” He waved an arm to encompass the city.

When Lucien is a little murderous:

“You’re working with that prick,” Cassian cut in, whatever catching-up now over, apparently. He moved to Mor’s side, a hand on her back. He shook his head at Azriel and Rhys, disgust curling his lip. “You should have spiked Eris’s fucking head to the front gates.”

Azriel only watched them with that icy indifference. But Lucien crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the couch. “I have to agree with Cassian. Eris is a snake.”

When Lucien volunteers to go on a quest:

“You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—”

“I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.” His chin lifted. “I will find her. And if there’s an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces … I’ll find a way to do that, too.”

My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.”

A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.

When Lucien makes a friend

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.”

“You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.”

#lucien vanserra #sass appreciation #this is 90% acotar #I didn't include ACOFAS or ACOSF because his sass is not as strong #other than calling Rhys and Feyre assholes #kp analysis #acotar series #mtp

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blackgirlfandomwriter · 4 years ago

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Pregnant (Bayverse Optimus x Oc Reader)

Ok, so this is an old one-shot that I wrote starring my friends and me. This was back when I first starting writing on Wattpad and I thought it would be funny to share it with yall so enjoy!!

Lori's POV:

"People are so dumb in horror movies," Savannah said tossing popcorn in her mouth. "I know right," I said laughing as we continued to watch the film in front of us. Tonight me and the girls decided to have a movie night until the guys got back from their mission in Tokyo. "I just got a text from Ratchet, they should be here tomorrow morning," Nina said smiling at us as we all grinned. The movie had gone off so we just started talking about randomness. Kaitlyn started to crack jokes making me laugh uncontrollably. "How about a game of truth or dare," Savannah said with a huge grin that said she was up to no good.

"Uh-uh Savannah's up to something," Nina said shaking her head. "What? No, I'm not I just have a question" Savannah said still smirking evilly. "And what may that be," I asked raising my eyebrow questioningly. "Have any of yall....... you know.......... done it yet?" Savannah said as we all looked around at each other waiting for answers. "Duhhhh," Kaitlyn said sticking her tongue in a playful way. "I know that's right," Savannah said as she and Nina high-fived while laughing. I on the other hand sat there in silence

"I know Lori be getting it in with Optimus all the time," Nina said looking at me giggling. I slapped her on the arm and laughed. "No, we haven't done it," I said trying to hide my embarrassment. "Not yet at least," Savannah raised her eyebrows at me in a joking way. "Bruhh shut up," I said hitting her with a pillow. She looked stunned for a moment before she hit me back. "PILLOW FIGHT" Kaitlyn yelled as we all started to hit each other with pillows.

~Time Skip To Morning~

"Ow stop kicking me" I muttered moving around to get comfortable on whatever I was laying on. I opened my eyes to see me and the girls all spread across the living room floor. I laughed as I stood up from my position on the floor and stretched. I yawned as I headed upstairs to get cleaned up and changed. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and threw on leggings and a crop top as I picked up my phone to text Optimus.

~~Messages~~

Lori: Hey, I thought you would be home by now 😥

Optimus: Sadly we are at the military base with Lennox discussing going back to Cybertron...... the government is starting to get a bit angsty

Lori: Oh is everything ok

Optimus: Nothing that needs to concern you. Everything will be fine

Lori: Um ok. I love you 💙

Optimus: Love you too. I'll be home soon❤

~~End~~

I looked down at my phone with a smile as I sighed. "I wonder how going back to Cybertron is going to work," I said to myself before shrugging my shoulders. I slipped my phone into my pocket and headed back downstairs. "Breakfast sounds good," I said while pulling out eggs, bacon, and pancake mix as I got to work. Once I was done with breakfast the girls were already awake and sleepily walking to the table. "Thanks for breakfast Lori," Nina said as Savannah and Kaitlyn grumbled through stuffed mouths of food. I laughed hearing a knock at the front door. "Who could that be," I said aloud as I jogged to the door. I slowly opened the door to find a few of the Autobots standing there in their bipedal forms.

"Oh my god! You're back" I yelled hugging them as they all chuckled. "What are you yelling about," Savannah said walking up behind me and freezing. "BEE" she yelled tackling him to the ground. We all laughed as Kaitlyn and Nina came to see all the commotion. They were so happy to see Ratchet and Crosshairs it was unbelievable. "Aww yall are so cute," I said taking out my phone and snapping many pictures. "Whatever girl your just jealous," Nina said sticking out her tongue playfully. "Girl you wish," I said with a playful eye roll. Before I could close the door I saw some more cars pull up. They all looked pretty familiar. They soon transformed revealing Jazz and the Lambo Twins (Sideswipe and Sunstreaker). "It's been a while, Lori," Jazz said walking up to me with a smile. "Nice to see you too," I said punching Jazz in the arm.

Before I could say anything to the twins I was engulfed in a tight hug. "We've missed you," they both said as I sighed. "I missed you guys too," I said as I kissed both of their foreheads as they went inside. Finally, the last three Autobots showed up, Drift, Hound, and Optimus. As soon as they transformed I ran over to Optimus and jumped into his arms. He caught me and spun me around causing me to squeal. When he set me back on the ground I smashed my lips into his as to which he returned the favor. "Eww guys get a room," Hound said in fake disgust. I only laughed as Optimus threw me over his shoulder and carried me into the house. "Optimus what are you doing" I yelled as he started to carry me upstairs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Savannah making these symbols with her hands towards me.

I gave Savannah a death glare as I mouthed the words Fuck you. Savannah looked at me in disbelief and burst into laughter as me and Optimus made it upstairs. When we made it to my bedroom Optimus lightly threw me on the bed causing me to giggle as he crawled on top of me. "Optimus what are you doing" I wined playfully trying to push him off of me. He didn't say anything as he let his metal lips find mine in a passionate kiss. I kissed back as he let his hands wander down to my hips. He pulled away and nibbled on my neck leaving little love bites as I moaned lightly. After a few minutes, he pulled away and kissed my forehead. "You sure you wanna do this" He whispered as I smirked kissing him roughly. "Does that answer your question?" I said with a smirk as he proceeded with a low growl.

~Time Skip To The Morning After (Cuz I've never written a lemon sooooo..... Yea)~

I woke up to the sun beaming through my curtains as I groaned snuggling into the warm figure next to me. 'Wait' I thought as my eyes popped open. 'Did me and Optimus ..... noooo did we?' I thought while slowly looking under the covers and quickly putting them back down. 'Oh, shit' I thought looking up at the ceiling. I let out a deep sigh as I turned to face a still sleeping Optimus. 'He's so handsome when he sleeps. Ugh, but why do I feel sick all of the sudden'. For some reason, something didn't feel right as I rushed to the bathroom. I shut the door and hunched over the toilet immediately spilling my guts. "What the hell" I groaned as I grabbed my phone off the counter and texted Savannah

~Messages~

Lori: Savannahhhhh😫😥

Savannah: Yes big head

Lori: I need help 😥 Somethings wrong like fr fr

Savannah: Where are you???

Lori: The bathroom in my room 😭

Savannah: Ight hold on

~End~

I took a deep breath as I waited on Savannah's arrival. Soon I heard the doorknob jiggle and in came Savanah shutting the door behind her. "Did you wake Optimus?" I asked nervously. "No, but what's your problem? You look uglier than usual" Savannah stated smiling as I weekly kicked her. "Looookkkk," I said pointing at the toilet. Savannah looked in and quickly backed away in disgust. "What the hell! Are you sick?" she yelled as I shushed her sternly. "I don't know I woke up feeling weird then I threw up," I said laying my head on the bathtub.

"Wait did you and Optimus......" Savannah asked not finishing her sentence. "Not important right now," I said pointing a finger at her as her eyes went wide. "I'll be right back," Savannah said as she ran out of the bathroom leaving me confused. As I waited for her to come back I slowly got up from my position on the floor trying to steady myself. I wobbly walked over to the counter and looked at myself in the mirror. 'Ugh I look horrible' I thought as I rinsed my mouth to get rid of the smell of puke.

"I'm back," Savannah said while holding something behind her back. "What's that," I asked pointing behind her with a raised eyebrow. Without saying a word she pulled out a pregnancy test and my jaw dropped in shock. "Take it," Savannah said sternly. "Are you serious?" I said crossing my arms in disbelief. "Yes, now take it," Savannah said shoving it into my hands and walking out of the bathroom. I sighed as went through the process of taking the pregnancy test. I set it on the counter and waited. 'There's no way I'm pregnant...... am I? I mean it was only once and it was my first time! Oh god, why am I so anxious'. I started to get more nervous as I paced around the bathroom. 'What will Optimus think? Does he even want kids? Do I want kids? WHY DIDN'T WE USE A-'. My thoughts were soon interrupted by my phone ringing signaling that the five-minute wait was over.

I slowly picked up the test with shaky hands. I looked down at the test and immediately lost my breath. "I'm pregnant" I whispered while covering my mouth with my hand. Tears started to fall but I couldn't tell if I was happy or scared. I sobbed quietly as I slid onto the floor. 'What am I gonna do?' I thought to myself as I cried a bit harder. There was a knock at the door causing me to jump but I didn't say a word. "Lori are you ok," A rough voice said from the other side of the door. 'Shit' I scurried to my feet while wiping my eyes clean. "Yea I'm fine," I said fixing myself up. "You don't sound fine. Can you please open the door" Optimus said as my heart stopped. 'Here comes the moment of truth I guess'

I opened the door letting him in as he kissed my forehead. "I have something to tell you" I spoke as my voice quivered. "Are you ok, you look sick?" Optimus said looking at me with concern. "Yea I'm fine just a little morning sickness," I said putting on a fake smile. As soon as I said those words Optimus's eyes went wide. "Are you?" Optimus asked questioningly as he stared at my stomach. "Yea...... I'm sorry" I said bursting into tears as I felt a strange pain in my chest. "Sorry? For what" Optimus said trying to calm me down. "I didn't even ask if you wanted kids, it just happened! And I-" Before I could continue my ranting his lips gently smashed onto mine.

I calmed down as he wiped away my stray tears. "Hey, look at me," Optimus said while raising my head my his index finger, "I've always thought about starting a family with you. It just happened faster than I expected, but I still love you and our unborn child," Optimus said causing my eyes to water up again. "I love you so much," I said kissing him passionately. I felt him smirk in the kiss causing me to giggle. "You kiss me like that again and we might be making twins," Optimus said kissing my neck. "You horny hunk of metal," I said shoving him playfully and trying to walk away. But I couldn't get far enough before he scooped me up into his arms bridal style and carried me downstairs.

When we walked into the living room everyone was sitting there as if they were awaiting our arrival. "Soooooo," Savannah said with a huge grin. "You told them," I said looking at her with a shocked expression. "That's not important right now. What does the test say" Nina said jumping up and down eagerly. Optimus and I exchanged a look as we both smiled. "WE'RE HAVING A BABY!!" I yelled in excitement as everyone laughed and clapped. "It's about damn time," Crosshairs said with a smirk while I playfully glared at him. "Aww I'm going to be an auntie," Savannah said wiping away a fake tear. I laughed while hugging her tightly as everyone else started talking about baby showers and planning causing me to roll my eyes. "Wow can't believe I'm gonna be a mom," I said rubbing my still flat stomach. "I can't believe I'm gonna be a father," Optimus said kissing my forehead as everyone 'Awwed'. I took a good look around at the people around me, the Autobots, my friends, my best friend, the love of my life, and soon to be born child.

This is my family now and I love them

#transformers #transformers x reader #optimus #optimus x oc #optimus x reader #optimus prime #tfp optimus #transformers optimus #bayverse optimus #transformers bayverse #pregnant #humanformers #bipedal #bumblebee #transformers idw

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