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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Note

hi! if requests are open for bucky, i like the concept of him being unsure of himself with reader (not a superhero/avenger, maybe just a mutual friend) and pining after them compared to how easy it was to get dates in the 40s. thank you!

tfatws revived my love for bucky im not ashamed

A/N: tfatws has definitely done the same for me! no shame whatsoever!

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You tore your gaze off of the television before you turned to look at Bucky. His blue eyed stare was trained on you, intense and unwavering. Sometimes it had managed to unnerve you, but you’d gotten used to it over the year you’d known him. He was more than just silent...he was calculating, but it never felt wrong. Waving your hand in front of his face you made a small sound to get his attention.

“Bucky?” you whispered his name softly and that seemed to snap him back into attention as he opened and closed his mouth a few times. Even in the dim lighting of the room you could see that a warm flush of red had crept up in his cheeks, “everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” he shook his head, more at himself than anything else, a self-annoyed look crossing his features, “spaced out for a minute. What were you saying?”

“I wasn’t saying anything,” you couldn’t help but laugh at him, watching his features soften when he realized you weren’t going to chastise him for zoning out, “I for one was watching the movie, which is more than I can say for you - you should love the Hobbit if you actually read the book when it first came out. And these movies are actually good. Pay attention, Bucky!”

You grabbed one of the pillows off of your couch and lobbed it at his head; but he was quicker, reflexes still sharp and honed after all this time. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smirk as he held the pillow before determining whether or not to throw it back at you. Immediately sensing what he was doing, you shook your head and jumped up, ducking behind the couch.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart, why are you hiding?” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as you peeked up at him. The nickname rolled easily off his tongue as it caused a shudder to run down your spine. You knew it meant nothing, that it was just something he tended to call people; it was definitely just a thing. It was nothing particularly about you or targeted at you but you couldn’t help but pause. You knew that you wouldn’t have minded if he called you that intentionally. But that could never, ever happen. This was Bucky after all and you were just...you.

“I know your game, Barnes,” you grinned at him, deciding to let the nickname slide, “I’ll call it a truce and we can go to your favorite place to get some dinner. I’ll pay! I’m waving my proverbial white flag.”

“Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse,” he set the pillow back down on the couch as he stood up and raised his hands in surrender. Slowly you raised to your full height, but kept a wary eye on your best friend, “I keep my promises, you know that.”

“Fine,” you agreed as you grinned at him. Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat as he looked you over and he felt his knees go weak momentarily. He could stare at your smile for hours, “get your jacket and let’s go old man.”

He scoffed in jest as you grabbed your shoulders and jacket off the coat rock and motioned for him to follow, “I’m not that old-”

“106? Isn’t that old?” you raised an eyebrow, barely able to contain your giggles as he rolled his eyes dramatically, “just kidding, Bucky. You know I just love teasing you.”

“I am in my 30s,..technically, thank you very much,” he insisted as he slipped on his shoes and you handed him the leather jacket, “don’t push your luck, kid.”

“See,” you grabbed the keys and he opened the door, ushering you out with a hand on the small of your back, “I swear Bucky Barnes, you’ve been an old man since you were a kid. Now let’s go! There’s pancakes with my name on them waiting.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Dinner with Bucky was easy...then again, everything with Bucky was easy. Every time you were with him, things just felt natural and normal, conversation and everything flowed freely. You’d met Bucky completely by chance, running into him, quite literally, on the street as you walked out of your favorite coffee shop and proceeded to spill coffee over both of you. He’d been apologetic, claiming it was his fault, but you’d been insistent that it was yours. One thing had led to another and soon enough you became inseparable friends.

Much to his surprise, and delight, you’d never treated Bucky as anything but...Bucky. That’s how you’d met him and that’s all he was to you. Bucky. Of course, he was much more than a friend, at least in your mind, but you weren’t about to divulge that little piece of information. At least not yet. Maybe one day...or not. Probably not. No. You weren’t about to make a fool out of yourself and confess your feelings for a man that saw you as nothing but a friend.

Bucky, always alert and cunning, had noticed you’d become quiet throughout dinner as you both ate in silence. Normally he wouldn’t question it, but he knew your tells and could easily read you by this point and knew that something was up.

“What?” he gently nudged your foot with his and you snapped back into attention as you looked at him, “you’re awfully deep in thought for someone that just wanted some pancakes.”

“It’s nothing,” you insisted nervously, swallowing your bite down and clearing your throat, “just...tired?”

“Mhmm,” he wasn’t going to push you, know you’d come around eventually, “whatever you say, sweetheart.”

There it was again, and you felt a warmth flush over your face as you focused your attention on the syrupy mess on your plate. It was silent for a few more minutes before you noticed a few women sitting at the diner’s counter, giggling among themselves as they cast longing glances at Bucky. Something in your stomach twisted and your heart constricted. Of course they were looking at him, women often did. And you couldn’t blame them; Bucky was handsome in almost every way, and you yearned after him as well. But unlike most other people, you weren’t about to be so obvious about it.

“Looks like you have a little fanclub,” you murmured softly under your breath as you lightly motioned towards them women. Bucky slyly followed your gaze and studied the newcomers and huffed in annoyance. He abhorred any sort of extra attention, especially when it came from people that only liked him because of his looks. Besides that, it often didn’t last terribly long; usually people realized who he was - used to be - and that scared them right off.

“They’ll leave soon enough,” he shrugged them off before turning his attention back to you, “besides, I-I’m not interested. It’s not like it used to be…”

“Back when?” you quickly snorted in amusement as he jokingly glared at you, “back in your day? I bet you had them all over you then too.”

“Well, it certainly was easier,” he admitted as he played with the straw in his almost empty milkshake, “nowadays people are harder to read. They all either want one thing, or they just stick around until they find someone else. It’s not worth it...and honestly, now one has caught my eye.”

“No one?” you asked as you pushed your last bite around the plate, letting the fluffy pancake soak up the syrup, “I find that hard to believe, even for you, Buck. Everyone has someone they’re interested in.”

“Huh,” he mused as drained the last of the milkshake, “well then, is there someone that has captured your interest?”

“I...no, not really,” you lied, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the lie. Instead he immediately made a sound of small disbelief; you should haven’t even bothered to try and lie to him. He could see right through you, “there’s nobody.”

“I thought you said everyone has someone that they’re interested in?” oh yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to let this go at all.

“Except me.”

“I find that doubtful.”

“What about you then, Bucky Barnes?” you decided to deflect by throwing the question right back at him, “has anyone captured your interest?”

Bucky paused for a moment, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he mulled over his next words carefully, “yes. There is someone.”

“O-oh,” you stammered as his gaze shifted back to you, blue eyes keenly studied your features, “you gonna tell me who it is?”

“Well,” he started slowly, tapping his fingers on the table as he leaned towards, "there is someone, but I don't know if she knows or thinks of me as more than a friend, but god, I hope she does. She's been my friend for a while now and I kind of want to ask her on a date, a proper date, but don't quite know how."

"Do you...do you think she could feel the same about you?" butterflies erupted in your stomach as you tried to calm the rapid beating of your heart. Surely he couldn't mean you. But then...why was a light flush of pink in his cheeks? Why was he watching you so intently?

"I don't know," he confessed with a light shrug as he sat back in the booth, an arm extended over the back, the picture of ease, "sometimes I think she might, but I don't want to think she does and mess anything up. I'd rather keep her as a friend than lose her."

"I guess you won't know unless you ask her…" you were positive that he could hear your heart beating rapidly, "you never know until you try. I have a feeling she won't turn you down if you ask...just a hunch…"

"Hmm…" a smile, dazzling and brilliant, grazed his features, "well then sweet-"

"Excuse me," one of the girls from the counter had approached your table and was leaning into Bucky, with her back to you. She was twirling her hair around her finger as she offered him her most dazzling smile. She was definitely beautiful and you really had nothing to base your annoyance off of, but she rubbed you the wrong way, "I was just wondering if you'd-"

"Hi, excuse me?" you couldn't help yourself as you gently tapped her arm. Bucky raised an eyebrow as she gave her a surprised look on her face, "I don't want to interrupt but he's mine. And if you don't mind...we're on a date."

"O-oh," her eyes widened as she looked between you and Bucky, who was currently sporting the most shit eating grin, "I didn't know. Sorry…"

She scurried back to her friends as you looked back down at your plate. Bucky cleared his throat as he leaned in, hardly believing what had happened. You could feel his curious blue eyes on you, searing and questioning.

"So she feels the same way or she's a good liar," he said softly as you chanced a glance, biting on your lip, "I'm yours, huh?"

"Shut up," you groaned, "it was to get her away from you, so you're welcome."

"Mhmm…" god that smile made you want to melt.

"Bucky!"

"Thank you," he bowed his head slightly, "what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Nothing...why?"

"Can I take you on a date?" he asked as you looked at him in surprise, wide doe eyes meeting his, "a proper date?"

"I...yeah, Bucky. I'd like that a lot," you agreed softly, "see...I told you she won't turn you down."

"Guess you were right," he was causal, but inside his heart was fit to burst as he reached across the table and gently put his hand on top of yours, "I'm already hers, but she's my girl too."

Yeah. You could definitely get used to that.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #tfatws #bb imagine

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titan-fodder · 4 years ago

Text

Prima Vista Part VI

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader, Zeke Yeager x fem!reader wc: ~ 11.2k

Warnings: explicit sexual content, ass play, jealousy, possessive behavior, humiliation, manipulation, OC introduced (read A/N), non-con coming inside, fighting, miscommunication A/N: As I was writing this, I decided to bring original female characters in to play the “bad guys” because I didn’t wanna demonize the canon AoT girls. Just didn’t feel right. So, everyone, meet Rhi. Enjoy~

Mike is extremely fucking aware of you sitting a foot away from him on his couch. You're hunched over and whining about him beating you in Mario Kart again, and honestly, he doesn't know how he's doing it because he is so not focused on the game.

You came to the party in tight jeans and a sparkling top, and all Mike can think about is getting you out of them, spreading you out underneath him just like he used to.

But, he's not gonna say anything about it, not even gonna allude to it because he feels awful about pushing so hard at the Pike house. He never thought he'd be that type of guy, but he's been known to go a little off the rails when it comes to you.

"Have you ever played this with all banana peels?" Mike asks, trying to get his mind off of the heat he thinks he's radiating.

"What?"

"Like, you set it so all the items are bananas."

Your eyebrows raise. "That sounds nightmarish."

"Oh, it is," he agrees. "But you should experience the chaos at least once."

"Alright, fine. Nanner me up, then." Mike snorts as you sit back against the cushions, examining the Switch controller in your hand and mumbling, "Could they have made these any smaller? My hands are too big. How are you even playing?"

"Practice. We played a lot of Don't Drink and Drive my sophomore year."

He toggles to change the settings, and you both pick characters again. Mike selects Baby Park and grins too widely when you squeak.

"This is the worst possible—"

"It's the best possible track," he corrects you.

The next minute or so is spent with Mike swearing and you screeching, but a melody of giggles can be heard in between.

He stands up like it'll help him focus, and you follow suit, bouncing and leaning forward until Mike thinks you might lose your balance. It's the only match you actually beat him at, and you raise your arms in victory, acting like the terrible winner you are. You dance and poke him in the chest so that Mike rolls his eyes and shoves you with just enough force (so, not a lot) to make you fall back onto the couch.

"Wow, rude!" You exclaim with a little pout.

Mike stands next to you, a little too close as a retort forms on the tip of his tongue, but the angle is awkward, and he watches your eyes flit from his face to his waist (or what's a little below it) for just a split second, just long enough for him to notice, and he has to fight a smirk as you meet his eyes again.

He can imagine your cheeks are feeling pretty warm right now, but Mike doesn't say anything about it, just takes his place beside you. If he's sitting a little closer than before, neither of you mention it.

It's nearing one in the morning, and both of you are starting to feel it, eyes and hands too slow to keep playing the video game, so you switch to a movie. Mike doesn't think much of it when he lays down, legs hanging over the armrest, head in your lap. You tense for about two seconds before relaxing into the position you both know so well.

The first Jurassic Park plays from the TV, but Mike isn't paying any attention, too busy watching the way you're nibbling on your bottom lip. It's your thinking face, means you're lost in your own brain, just as far away from the film as he is.

It's stupid that you're both fighting this. Mike doesn't understand. If he wants it, and you want it, what the fuck is standing in the way? Zeke? That pretentious, clay-stained fuck? You don't even fit well together. In any way. He's too arrogant and philosophical (or so Erwin says). He probably doesn't appreciate your sense of humor (or so Mike says). And, he won't fuck you (so you say). How are you happy with him?

"Miche," your voice is quiet, but still loud enough to send a shiver down Mike's spine.

"Hm?"

"Stop staring at my mouth."

"You looked at my dick earlier."

"Shut up, no I didn't."

Mike laughs, turns his head to bury it in your stomach, and you start carding fingers through his hair. It's natural with the two of you. Nothing is forced. It took a while to get back into the groove of your friendship, but now you're here, and Mike is breathing in the smell of your perfume and fabric softener and you, and he wants so badly to just raise your shirt and plant kisses all over your soft skin.

Your body rises and falls with a deep breath. Your hand stops at the crown of his head. Then, you whisper the words he wants to hear most: "Just one more night?"

Mike sits up so fast, he nearly smacks into your chin with his forehead. He turns to face you again, eyes too round, voice too hopeful as he assures, "Just one more night."

He knows the only reason you're considering this is because Zeke has you all wound up, but that's okay. Mike will take care of you. He'll scratch that itch and then some—remind you of what you're missing.

"Alright, yeah, I—"

Mike is suddenly standing and taking your hand, leading you to his bedroom as the Jurassic Park theme plays you both out.

He knows you'll want to snoop—it's sort of your thing—but he doesn't give you time as he bends and catches you in a kiss, hands holding your face, tilting your head. He feels you curl your fingers into his shirt, using him for leverage as you balance on your tiptoes, and he lets you dance like that for a little while, desperate little ballerina as you open your mouth for him, but as soon as he feels your tongue against his, Mike lifts you clean off the ground. You wrap your legs around his waist, no need for straining muscles now as you both lick and suck and hold on to each other too tightly.

Mike paces over to the bed, nearly tripping over the shoes he left in the middle of his room earlier that day, but he’s able to drop you onto the mattress and catch himself above you before any real damage can be done.

You laugh out a, “Real smooth, Zacharias,” that he ignores in favor of taking his shirt off.

He can’t see well in the darkness which just will not do as you begin stripping, but then he remembers, “Oh,” and leans over you to plug in the string of lights he somehow managed to hang around the flag pinned above his headboard. “Ambience.”

You crane to look at them, suck your teeth, and say, “Let me guess. Erwin told you to do it.”

“How’d you know?”

Another little giggle as you tuck a few strands of hair behind his ear—“Because Erwin is the fairy lights type of motherfucker, but you…” You don’t finish that thought, just shake your head and tell him, “They’re cute. I like ‘em.”

Mike hums, “Good,” then leans down for another kiss. Several more, actually.

He’s missed this so fucking much, the way you taste on his tongue, the way you sigh into him, the way your body moves beneath his. It hurts to think this will be the last time he gets to experience it with you, but he plans to savor every second, never let himself forget and, hopefully, make sure you never forget either.

Cheesy or not, the lights cast incredible shadows on your body once it's bared to him. Your silhouette is something he could stare at for hours, days, a lifetime. If he were even slightly artistically inclined, he’d probably try to paint it, but as that’s not the case…

Starting at your jawline, Mike leaves a trail of little bites, pinching just hard enough to make you gasp. When he reaches your neck, though, he begins sucking, dragging his teeth over new-forming bruises so that you whimper and arch to press your chest to his. He moves slowly, barely even registering your breathy pleas as he holds a patch of skin captive between his incisors and laves over it.

A mark on your neck. One on the swell of your breast then on the side of the other. The space between two ribs. Just above your naval. The hollow of your hip bone. And, finally, the insides of both thighs.

Last time he did this, on the bed in your old room doused in moonlight, he wasn't trying to be possessive.

Tonight he is.

“M-Miche, please.” Your voice is catching as if you’re crying—as if Mike is torturing you. He supposes he is. You’re ready for relief, and all he’s doing is winding you tighter and tighter. It’s okay, baby, he thinks to himself, I’ll make it worth it.

Swiping his tongue between your folds, Mike groans at how wet you are. He almost feels sorry for you. Now, he’s gonna have to spend even more time drinking you in.

You throw your legs over his shoulders with no prompting, letting him sink further into you. Mike licks in long, deep strokes that make your thighs tremble and jump around his head. He sucks your clit into his mouth, slick and swollen against his tongue, and makes sure to move his face just enough to make a mess of the hair on his chin.

You’re begging again. For something. For nothing. He isn’t quite sure. But, when Mike moves to lick around your dripping hole and uses a finger to flick over your sensitive little bud, you sing for him, and he realizes just how pent up you are.

Oh, he can have fun with this.

Pausing to suck more bruises onto your thighs, Mike tries to calm himself down, find a way to ignore the throb between his legs, but that doesn’t seem likely judging by the way you just keep trying to spread yourself further and further, like it’ll get him to move faster.

He crawls back up your body, face level with yours as he teases your entrance with a finger. You let out the cutest sounds, brow furrowing like you’re focused as you shift your hips in a silent demand that Mike does not follow.

His face is slick with you, and he knows you can taste yourself as he forces you into another long kiss. You let out an honest-to-god sob when he pushes his finger inside of you, throwing your head back and clenching around him while praising, “Yes, yes, yes, fuck, tha—thank you.”

Mike pumps in and out a few times, finds your spot with ease and massages over it until he sees true tears leaking from your eyes.

Then, he pulls out, slaps a hand over your cunt, and warns, “Don’t thank me just yet.”

Your chest heaves as you stare at the ceiling seemingly in shock. Mike raises to his knees and wipes his chin on his shoulder, glances back just in time to see you sit up and attempt to tackle him back on the bed.

Mike snorts, catching you by the wrists and leaning in close. “What do you think you’re gonna do?”

Your eyes are a little wild, lips kiss-swollen, body marked to hell and back from Mike’s mouth. You just can’t get enough, shamelessly cock hungry, and god, he is so glad he's here to witness it. To be a part of it. Maybe he should send Zeke a gift basket, an edible arrangement or something. Thanks for letting me satisfy your girl since you can’t.

It takes no effort to lay you back down, just like it takes no effort to flip you over. Mike raises your hips, enjoys the view of you whining into his pillow for a second, then turns his sights to your ass. He gives it a couple spanks, biting his lip at the way it makes you clench your muscles, then spreads your cheeks and spits.

“M-Mi—”

“‘S’okay,” he tells you before letting more of his saliva drip from his mouth and land on your asshole. “Gonna feel good, I promise.”

He’s never done this with you before, not that he hasn’t wanted to, but he figures if there’s any night to go all out, it’s this one.

The first press of his tongue against your hole has you inhaling sharply, and the first press of his fingers into your pussy has you moaning low in your throat. Just like that, you relax for him. Mike works himself inside of you, opening you up until you’re nothing more than a drooling mess on his bed. You allow him to lick inside of you, to take in every exposed part of you as he rubs your g-spot over and over.

“Mm, gonna… gonna…” Your words are thick and wet. Mike isn’t even sure you realize that you’re speaking. He knows what you’re trying to say, though, so with a mischievous smile, he removes his face and hand, admiring his handiwork as you drop back to the bed and whine for him.

There’s a bottle of listerine in his nightstand, one he only planned on using when he would wake up in the early morning hours with that dead animal taste in his mouth. Turns out, it has more than one use. Mike takes a swig so that you won’t freak out if he tries to kiss you after eating your ass, swishes it around, then swallows.

“Not supposed to drink that,” you slur, already looking much too fucked-out for someone who hasn’t even taken his dick yet.

“Harmless in small doses, babe,” he tells you, recapping the bottle and tossing it back into the open drawer. “If I just chugged all of it, it’d be a different story.”

You let out a little scoff, mumble something he can’t hear, then ask a little louder, “You ready to fuck me yet?”

Mike smirks, pushes you to roll over again, then strokes a thumb over your face. “I am literally always ready to fuck you. Just trying to draw it out tonight.”

It makes you pout, but he thinks your eyes clear a little. Like you understand what he’s feeling. When you pull him down for another kiss, much softer than all of the previous, Mike smiles—another little snapshot he’d like to tuck away.

Without any warning, he pulls the pillows your head is resting on out from under you, snickering at the grunt that leaves you. He taps a hip, “Lift,” and shoves them underneath when you do. He should probably ask if you want him to wear a condom, but that’s nothing more than an afterthought as Mike begins to push into you.

“Ohh, thank god, thank god, thank god,” you pant, and Mike chuckles, dipping a hand down to gently stroke over the tissue stretching around his cock.

Every shallows thrust pushes more slick from you, and he can’t help but gather some on his finger and hold it to your mouth. You’re quick to lick it off, but instead of dropping his hand, Mike moves to press a thumb to your chin and hold your mouth open. You stick your tongue out, and he mumbles a low, “Such a slut,” before spitting on it.

As soon as you swallow Mike snaps his hips forward and starts a hard, fast rhythm. The way your face splits into a crooked grin almost has him coming on the spot, so fucking pleased with yourself, but he wants to make sure you’re seeing stars by the time he’s finished with you—wants to make sure you can’t even get out of his bed.

You're sucking in air through your teeth, little hisses that could be from either pain or pleasure, but the way you keep raising yourself off the pillows to meet Mike halfway is a pretty good indicator of which one it is.

While your voice seems muted at the time being, your sloppy little cunt is not—lewd, wet noises echoing through Mike's room as well as his head. That fucking squelch he hears every time he pushes in, the mirroring suck whenever he pulls out… You always get messy with him, or maybe he always makes a mess out of you—either way, it's one of the many things Mike adores about you. You were shy about it maybe the first two fucks but not anymore. Now, you wrap your legs around Mike and pull him closer, claw down his back and try your hardest to fuck yourself on his cock until he's laughing in your ear.

"Here, hold on."

You whimper when he pulls out, but it's only to flop down in his back and let you climb on top. He expects some kind of break, a single second to breathe, but you just sink down on his length and let your head hang back.

"Mmygod," you moan, taking him in as far as you can then rocking back and forth.

Mike can feel your thighs break out in goosebumps, traces a finger over your arm to find the same effect and hums. Bracing yourself on his chest, you plant your feet on the mattress and bounce like your life depends on it, that drunken smile back in place as Mike coos, "That's it, baby, take what you need."

He reaches up to grope your tits, cupping both of them, brushing calloused palms over each nipple. It makes you arch your back and gasp, but the rhythm of your hips doesn't stop. Mike can feel the way your pussy is drooling on him, slick little rivers that add to that filthy, beautiful symphony. He wants to hear it every night on repeat. Most played song of—

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," you whine, and Mike reaches between your spread legs to press a thumb against your clit, fingertips digging into the meat of your thigh as he rubs in tiny circles.

You sit and take it for several seconds before your eyes find his, widen, then roll as you start to come.

Mike takes over, lifting and lowering you on his cock as you twitch and cry for him. You're so pretty like this, hair out of place, damp with sweat and tears, thighs painted with your own orgasm. He doesn't want this to end. He doesn't want this to be the last time.

With your pussy still spasming around him, Mike switches positions again, lays you down like before and situates his head between your legs to idly lick everything that's dripped out of you. Your legs are shaking, kitten-like mewls meeting his ears. You jump whenever he runs his tongue over your clit, but you never move to stop him or swat him away.

Mike waits for you to go boneless before scooping you up and sitting on the edge of the bed. You're clumsy and slow as you straddle his lap, letting him slip inside you once more, but it's nowhere near as frantic as before.

He guides with gentle hands under your thighs, coaxes you to uncurl them from underneath you and wrap around his waist instead. Chest to chest, you rise and fall together. Mike breathes heavily into your neck as he hits that unforgiving wall inside of you. It makes you wince, but you don't shy away from him.

He's careful after that, makes sure everything he does is slow, tender, and when he sees fresh tears shining in your eyelashes, he knows it isn't from anything he's doing to you.

Mike is able to suck a few more bruises onto your neck and shoulders before he feels you nose at his cheek. Your kiss is dream-like, deep and relaxed but so full, and Mike knows he would be able to just do that all night if his orgasm wasn't about to run into him like a train.

He breaks away, looks to the ceiling only to have little fingers curl around his jaw and bring him back. You watch him with half-lidded eyes, bottom lip sucked between your teeth, and that expression—that need to see—it makes the cord in Mike's gut snap. He sees a vague twinkle in your gaze as his jaw drops then blackness as his eyes are suddenly facing the back of his god damn skull.

Every line of cum he shoots inside you has him groaning, his fingers digging into the swell of your ass as he fills you up. You purposely squeeze him, clenching on his cock to milk him of everything he has until Mike is shuddering and whispering, "Okay, okay, okay."

"Okay?" You question then squeeze him again, giggling when he grunts and twitches.

Lying back on the bed, Mike lets you pull your legs out from under him, but you remain straddling his waist as you lean forward to lay on his chest. It’s quiet for a long time. A different Jurassic Park movie is playing now, the music too intense for the deep, even breaths you’re taking, for the way you’re lightly tapping Mike’s shoulder in time with his heartbeat.

His head is beginning to clear again, the lust and excitement ebbing away into those reflective thoughts that always seem to hit him after a mindblowing orgasm. It’s mostly questions: Why are you doing this? Why is he doing this? Why can’t you keep doing this? Why didn’t you pick him? Why don’t you want—

“Okay, I gotta get up,” you grumble. “I can actually feel your cum dripping out of me.”

Mike snorts, looking over his nose at you. “Never complained about it before.”

You push yourself off of him, both of you hissing at the sensation, then Mike watches you stand and glance around, probably trying to figure out which door is for the closet and which is for the bathroom.

“It’s the one on the left,” he grunts, staring at your ass a little too long and suppressing a groan when he catches sight of white fluid streaming down your thighs. “God dammit.”

The toilet flushes, the shower starts, and Mike is left to wonder if you need the alone time or if he should treat this like any other time and join you. Are you in there trying to wash him off of you or—

“You comin’?” You peak out from the door, wet hair dripping, tired smile in place.

“Just did,” he shoots back while sitting up. Like every other time. Just keep it casual.

The water is hot, but you’re even hotter as you lather your hair in shampoo and soap up your body. Since he’s back to pretending like this is nothing more than your old routine, Mike has no problem pressing himself against you from behind, running his hands up your sides, “helping” in the bathing process by squeezing your tits, feeling the suds get caught in the webs of his fingers.

“You’re playing with fire, Zacharias,” you tell him, and he can see your lips pulling into a smirk. “You need to stop unless you wanna go for round two.”

He nips at your earlobe, uncaring of the soap that gets in his mouth. “Or three, or four.”

You laugh and turn to face him, but your eyes are shut as you rinse your hair. It gives Mike time to admire all the marks he’s left on you—too many, probably—and he doubts you’ll be very happy with him once you notice, but fuck, you’re so pretty covered in him.

The shower ends. Mike expects you to ask for a ride back to the dorms (that he doesn’t understand why you’re still living in), but it turns out you’re not all talk. After sitting on the couch for only a few minutes, trying to make sense of the dinosaur movie you’ve walked in on halfway, you’re crawling into his lap again, teeth dragging over his neck this time as your hand trails down his torso to rub over his rapidly growing cock.

“Oh, shit, I didn’t actually think you were serious,” he chuckles through a kiss.

You grind down on him, bite his lower lip, then remind him, “I told you I was frustrated.”

He smirks, gives your hair a little tug that makes you moan, then makes sure his words just ghost over your mouth when he teases, “Like a bitch in heat.”

This time he takes you over the armrest of the couch, leaves you swollen and dripping his cum again.

Another shower, the steam on top of such vigorous activity has both of you deliriously tired, and Mike is honest when he tells you, “I really shouldn’t drive now. I’m about to pass out.”

“You and me both.”

So, you slip into one of his shirts and crawl into bed with him, but neither of you get more than a couple hours of sleep before the morning sun is shining in through the window. Mike’s grumpy groan very quickly turns to one of interest when he feels you push your ass against his morning wood, and then you’re at it again. He’s never fucked this much in such a short amount of time, and he can’t imagine doing it every day or even every other day. In fact, he thinks he might be a little burnt out for a bit. Unless it’s with you, of course. He’ll always make an exception if it’s you moaning his name and hiking a leg over his hip and milking him dry. He guesses if this is the last time he gets to do this for the foreseeable future, he’s at least made it worth it.

Back in your little party outfit, you step up into Mike’s Jeep and almost doze off in the short time it takes to get to student housing, but you’re roused when he pulls into the parking lot and steps on the breaks just a little too hard.

Mike snickers when you jolt forward and grunt, cutting your eyes at him and muttering, “Fucker,” before undoing your seatbelt and leaning over to pull him into another kiss. He cradles the back of your head, holds you there for too long as he tries to make you feel everything he’s feeling through tangled tongues, little nips, and the string of spit that stretches between two bottom lips.

He thinks he’s been good at hiding it, but now as you’re about to slip out and away, those words are lodged in Mike’s throat again, and no amount of swallowing will get rid of them. He takes a deep breath and forces one of those horribly insincere smiles, and you can tell because the look you give him is thoughtful and sorry, and your voice comes out as a whisper when you say his name, “Miche.”

“Hm?”

“Uh… Thanks.”

He lets out a humorless laugh and asks, “For last night? This morning?”

“For everything. I mean, last night and this morning were incredible, like… Incredible. But, it’s more than that. For helping me with everything you have in the last year or so.”

Mike’s heart drops into his stomach, and he sits back in his seat as his mind starts racing because this doesn’t sound like gratitude; this sounds like goodbye.

But, why? He’ll see you on campus in a day or so, at the PKA parties you end up going to. You probably won’t be able to attend a ton of his games, but that’s fine. He understands. Are you just being dramatic—sad that you won’t be able to fuck him anymore?

He can’t ask any of this, settles with a half-hearted, “Yeah, no problem,” as he fights the confused frown that’s slowly taking over his face.

“I’ll see you around,” you tell him.

Mike nods and watches as you slide out and start walking to the bland building. He doesn’t like how that just ended. It doesn’t sit right in his head or his gut. It could be that you’re already regretting it. It could be that you're fearful of the consequences. It could be that you think this might be the final straw in your friendship. You’d be wrong on that one, though. Mike is willing to let you get away with a lot—too much—before he runs. You can use him in whatever way you need, and he’ll keep coming back. He just can’t help it.

That had been a bad idea. A really, really fucking bad idea. The ache in you has been completely satiated, and you loved being able to hang out (and fuck) Mike—wouldn’t really trade it—but as you walk up the stairs to Zeke’s apartment sore as all get out and see his face when he swings the door open, it really hits you—

That had been a terrible idea.

“Why the fuck did Eren say he saw you leave the party with Zacharias?”

“Alright, I’m just gonna turn around,” you say, pivoting back toward the staircase because you really don’t like the way Zeke’s tone is tying your stomach in knots and making your neck prickle. You haven’t ever been one to be scared of men, but in this moment, you would much prefer to not be anywhere near him.

“No, no, let’s talk about this,” he says with a suck of his teeth.

His grip on your arm is just shy of painful, and you take note of the way he forcefully guides you into the apartment rather than tugs you.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, setting your purse down on the counter as you follow him over to the couch. Zeke sits down at the other end facing you, as always, blue eyes narrow behind his glasses. “So, is it true?”

“Yeah,” you admit before diving headfirst into a lie, “It was just to play videogames, though. Neither of us were diggin’ the party, so—”

“That so?”

You nod. “We used to all the time.”

“And, what else did the two of you used to do?” He mocks, and you keep your mouth shut, bottom jaw sliding as your lower lip starts to quiver. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Thank whatever you want, Zeke. I was just hanging out with my best friend, okay?”

“Your best friend?” He snaps. “Tell me, sweetheart, just why might you be covered up head to fucking toe, hm?”

You cringe inwardly, taken back to the debate you’d had with yourself in front of the mirror. Your normal casual wear would show off some of the bruises Mike had littered you with—cold spoons can only do so much—but getting buttoned up would be suspicious. You had opted for the latter, hoping it would escape Zeke’s notice, but of course it didn’t.

Now, you’re sweating in your jeans and a fucking turtleneck you’ve never even worn before, and Jesus Christ, you just want to leave. Zeke is hot, but not hot enough to put up with this kind of bullshit.

“Don’t have a comeback for that one, do ya’?”

Mental note: kick Eren’s ass next time you see him. You knew that kid rubbed you the wrong way for a reason.

You don’t know who to be more upset with, the little brother or yourself. You could be irritated at Mike if you really wanted to—he hadn’t been subtle about wanting you last night, but then again, you hadn’t really expected him to, and you can’t find it in yourself to fault him for his feelings. There’s no way you could actually be mad at him.

This is your fault. You need to deal with the consequences without bringing anyone else into it.

“What d’you want me to say, Zeke? What’s the right answer here?” You ask exasperatedly.

“The fucking truth!”

“We hooked up, alright? I fucked him! ‘Cause you don’t wanna fuck me, which would be fine if you’d just tell me why, but you won’t!” You’re starting to breathe a little heavy, voice rising as you continue, “I feel like you’re just waiting to see how long it’ll take for me to lose it, and apparently it was last night, and you know what?” You grin at him, nerves on fire the more you let every frustration fly from your mouth. “It was awesome. It was so fucking good, you don’t even understand.”

Zeke’s eyebrows are high as he lets your little rant die off, obviously annoyed when he asks, “You finished?”

“I think I am,” you laugh.

“Fantastic. Take your shirt off.”

You choke on your tongue. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Take. Your shirt. Off.”

“No!"

“You just said you wanted me to fuck you, so—”

“Not right fucking now!” Even if you wanted him to, you wouldn’t be able to take him. You don’t think you’ve ever been so sore after having sex, but that could also have something to do with the multiple rounds of being impaled on Mike’s horse cock. God, you already miss it.

“Swear to god, if you don’t take it off right now—”

“You’ll do what? What’ll you do, Zeke?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat when he lunges at you, one foot planted on the ground as his other knee digs into the couch in a way that cages you in. His nails scratch against your skin as he pulls roughly at the material, and you hear the sound of threads splitting as you grunt and squirm and try to keep the terror rising in your chest at bay because this is not happening. This is not happening.

Zeke manages to rip the turtleneck off of you, and you shiver on the cushions as his eyes trace over every inch of you he can see, icy blue somehow becoming colder and colder.

“One,” he growls, shoving a finger into your neck. It smarts the way every bruise does, and you bat his hand away only for him to move it to the skin just beneath your collarbone. “Two.” He shoves your bra up to find hickeys three and four, making you wince as he digs a fingertip into both. “Five,” your ribs. “Six,” your stomach. “Seven,” your hip.

Your face is incredibly warm, tears stuck at your waterline as humiliation washes over you in waves. And naturally, it just gets worse.

“Are you gonna take your pants off, or will I have to?”

You aren’t breathing deep enough anymore, and you can feel a burning in your lungs as a result. When you don’t answer quick enough, Zeke threatens, “I’ll rip them if I have to.”

“They’re denim,” you snark, but that last piece of attitude is stomped out when he unbuttons and unzips your pants and tugs each corner, effectively tearing past the zipper.

You let out something frighteningly close to a whimper as he pulls them off, then sits between your legs and starts counting the marks dotted along your thighs.

“I’ve gotta hand it to him—Zacharias is a pretty thorough guy.” He pinches you a couple times, chuckling at the way you jump and hiss. “Did you like it when he was treating you like a fucking fire hydrant? Marking his territory like a dog?”

“Shut up,” you grit, sitting up only to get shoved back down by a hand that curls around your throat.

You stare at Zeke with huge eyes, finally letting that fear bloom inside you—what is he about to do? What is he about to do?—and as he leans over you, tears start streaming down the sides of your face.

He lets out a condescending little, "Oh," then lowers his face to run his lips over your temple and whispers, "Don't be scared. It's okay."

A gentle kiss, and then he pushes himself up, stands, then disappears into his room. You stay on the couch, trying to catch the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. Shivering as you sit up, you reach for your close only to find them ruined.

Zeke must have known that the moment he ripped them off of you (honestly, you should have known too) because when he returns, he tosses a ball of material at you—an old t-shirt and pajama pants.

"I'm gonna throw a pizza in the oven. That okay with you?"

You blink at him, unable to respond as he glances over his shoulder and makes a face like he's annoyed.

"What, are you stupid on top of slutty now? I asked if that was okay with you."

"I—Ye—I need to leave," you mumble, quickly slipping the clothes on and standing. "I'm gonna leave."

"How about you just chill and watch a movie instead?"

"Why would I want to—"

The look Zeke gives you is chilling, mouth downturned, one eyebrow raised. It's a challenge, one you don't have the energy or fight to rise to, so you drop back onto the cushions and sigh.

It’s fine. You’re fine. He didn’t go nearly as far as you thought he was about to—just got upset. He had a reason to, right? There were better ways to handle it, a fucking conversation for example, but at least now he’s giving you a little space, cooling down in the kitchen while you gather your thoughts. You could go without the name-calling, though.

He just lost his temper, wanted to remind you that it’s him you’re with. You have been for a few months now. And, until now, Zeke has been a nice albeit slightly arrogant guy. He’s personable, he’s smart, he’s funny. Most importantly, he’s level-headed. You probably just pushed him a little too far. It could have been worse. It could be worse.

You play it over and over in your head as Zeke hands you a plate with a slice of pizza on it. You play it when he sits down and throws an arm around you. Then, you play it when he walks you to your car that evening and kisses you like nothing ever happened.

Could be worse. Could be worse.

Mike curls his tongue over his bottom lip and squints at the array of cups on the table across from him, picking one out before tossing the ping pong ball with a flick of his wrist.

It bounces off one of the cups' rims, and Nile easily snatches it up and smirks at him.

"Dude," Erwin starts, frowning when Mike turns to him. "Why do you suck so much tonight?"

Mike rolls his eyes. "Man, fuck off."

"No, I'm serious. What's up with you?"

"Nothin'. Just having an off night."

"More like off week," Erwin scoffs. "Month."

Gelgar sinks his ball into the middle cup, and Mike quickly reaches forward to grab it, extracting the plastic before downing the beer.

Erwin is right, but Mike refuses to tell him that. He's been off since the last party a couple weeks ago, the last time he saw you—last time he touched you. He's spotted you around campus several times since, but you're always hanging off Zeke's arm, and Mike isn't about to pry you off him (despite how much he wants to).

Honestly, he's a little surprised at how close you still are with him, how unaffected your relationship is by the hookup. Maybe Zeke just never found out. Mike has tried to ask you about it, sent more than one text, but they've gone unanswered which is a concern all on its own. Two weeks without talking at all. Mike feels like he's going insane.

Could it be that you're mad at him, upset that you gave into temptation and you're blaming Mike instead of yourself? He understands the need to scratch that itch, but if you really hadn't wanted to fuck, you could have just said so.

Mid-terms are next week, so Mike figures if you still haven't talked to him by then, it's definitely time to worry about the state of the friendship. He's trying not to get himself worked up, but honestly, just the thought of you being upset with him is enough to make his stomach roll. He just needs one text. One everything's fine. That shouldn't be too hard for you, right?

Mike misses another shot and swears to himself, sticking a middle finger up at Erwin when he throws his arms out.

"It's just beer pong, bro. Calm down."

The party is like every other—loud music, rowdy college kids, too many girls Mike doesn't care about making eyes at him from across the room. He really just wants to go home, but he can't help but stay in hopes that you might show up. It's highly unlikely, but that slim chance keeps him rooted to the spot, missing cups left and right until Nile and Gelgar win.

Erwin is not happy as he drinks his share of the remaining beer. Once he finishes the last, he tells Mike, "You owe me for that pathetic fucking display. Tell me what's going on."

Mike comes close to just turning his back and walking away, but he can see that even through his irritation, Erwin is worried for him.

Running a hand through his hair, Mike just asks if Erwin has heard from you at all recently. "I just can't get ahold of her, and I can't tell if it's 'cause she's busy or ignoring me or what."

Erwin's thick eyebrows knit together as he shakes his head. "No, I haven't talked to her in a while. Did something happen between the two of you?"

"I mean, we hooked up at the last party—"

"Oh, that ended up happening?" Erwin asks, surprised.

Even after making up last semester, Mike has tried to keep the details of his sex life with you to himself and away from Erwin specifically. After the shit he pulled that drove the rift between them in the first place, Mike isn't willing to be quite as open about you as he previously was, but he did have to break that code at the last party when he was convinced you would end up fucking. Buzzed and excited while still at the house, Mike had asked Erwin if he'd be cool with the two of you using his room (with the promise of cleaning up, of course), before you ended up just retreating to the quietness of Mike's apartment instead.

So, Erwin knew the potential that evening had, but Mike never followed up with him until now.

"Yeah, it did."

"Well, what did Zeke think of it?"

Mike shrugs his shoulders. "Dunno. She hasn't talked to me since then."

"Shit." Erwin looks genuinely taken aback. "It's been that long?"

"Yeah. I'm trying not to freak out, but like—"

"No, I get you. If I end up hearing from her before you do, I'll let you know."

Mike nods, "Thanks, bro," and forces a smile when Erwin claps him on the back, then breaks away from his friend to mope around somewhere else.

What if something happened? What if Zeke had found out and lost his temper with you? Mike will murder him if he finds out that four-eyed fuck put his hands on you. Gruesomely murder.

If he could take back what you both shared that night, he would. Things seemed to be getting somewhat back to normal between you—talking and making dumb jokes, like you were actually comfortable around him despite your boyfriend. If Mike had known one last night would fuck that progress up, he wouldn't have ever brought it up.

Then again, you had told him. I don't wanna fuck things up with Zeke. And, he had still pushed, tried to get you to give in, and god, that's embarrassing. Mike is glad you called him out on his shit, but looking back on it still makes his face heat. That was fucked up. He fucked up.

"It's Mike, right?"

Mike's eyes snap downward, caught off guard by the girl suddenly standing in front of him, dainty fingers with painted nails clutched around a beer bottle. It's the same kind you would drink only to end up giving it to Mike.

"Uh, yeah, that's me."

The girl smiles at him. He's seen her around the college, events shared between both frats and sororities, and the more Mike looks at her face, the more he recognizes her as one of the chicks who used to hang around the baseball team a lot. In fact, he's pretty sure she's—

"I'm Rhi. You played really well yesterday. I was watching you."

"Thanks."

She bats her eyelashes at him as she returns, "You're welcome," then clicks her tongue and asks, "So, who ya' lookin' for?" in a sing-song voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you've been scanning this room for the last, like, fifteen minutes. Looking like you're playing Where's Waldo or something."

Mike snorts, flipping hair from his face as he lies, "No one in particular."

He recognizes the look of satisfaction that blooms on Rhi's face, has seen it many times before on many different girls. It makes him sigh inwardly because he really could not be any less interested.

"That's good." Rhi's wide grin shrinks into a smirk before she adds, "I was hoping you'd say that."

Mike feels his mouth tug up on one side in what he's pretty sure comes off as a sad little smile.

Fuck it, though. At least she's pretty.

Things don't change all that much between you and Zeke. After spending a day or two rationalizing, you're able to look at him and smile again, to laugh at his jokes and listen to his tangents. He's back to playing with your fingers on the table while you sit face to face for lunch, back to shoving his hand in your back pocket while you walk around campus. It's like nothing ever happened.

If anything, you start spending even more time with him. He walks with you to and from class whenever he can, tells you to come watch his practices because the teammates he's closest with—his best friends—want to get to know you better. It's all normal, and you get used to the slight change in routine without a problem. You like the Galliard brothers, Marcel who plays shortstop and Porco, the catcher, so it isn't a chore to hang out with them after games and practice.

What is a chore is watching Zeke talk with his bubbly ex as he walks with her to the science building you're waiting at. Leaning against the brick wall under an awning, you squint as they approach. Rhi is looking at him with those huge, entranced eyes you know too well, a little too much pep in her step making her tits bounce in a way that's fucking impossible to ignore.

You shouldn't be territorial. If anything, you should probably still be mad for the stunt he had pulled with you, but… if he gets to be possessive, so do you. It only makes sense.

'Cause that's how healthy relationships work, you think with a snort, pushing yourself off the wall when they both stop in front of you.

"Babe, you remember Rhi," Zeke reintroduces her like you haven't been at least a little wary of her for the last couple months.

"Yeah," you nod, forcing a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm great!" She grins, looking at Zeke for one reason or another, like he needs to approve her answer, which is fucking dumb, but you also kind of understand because that's just the effect he has on people.

"Glad to hear it." You turn your attention to your boyfriend, content to ignore her from here on out, and ask, "Did you wanna grab something to eat before practice?"

“Yeah,” he nods before glancing at Rhi and offering a, “Catch you later,” that sounds too promising for your liking.

You don’t glare at the other girl as the two of you leave, but you definitely do not smile, and as Zeke drives you both to your favorite cafe, you whine to Hitch through texts.

i wouldn’t be too worried about it, she tells you. she’s in my psych class and she’s kinda dumb. i doubt zeke wants to put up with that again. probs why he dumped her in the first place

You try to appear unbothered through lunch, but you’ve had a pretty shitty day so far—woke up late, probably failed a quiz, got no response from Mike despite texting him three times in rapid succession, and then you had to witness that doe-eyed little brat blatantly pine for—

“You know, you don’t have any right to be jealous, right?” Zeke asks after swallowing a bite of salad.

You blink at him, having to process for a second before you understand what he’s saying. And, why he’s saying it. How can he just read your mind like that? You don’t think you’ll ever understand.

“‘M not jealous,” you mumble, stirring soup you really have no intention of eating.

Zeke smirks across from you. “No?”

“I’m just having a bad day. Don’t make assumptions just ‘cause I didn’t smile at your little ex.”

His expression of self-satisfaction falls into a frown, and he asks what’s going on. When you tell him, you purposely leave out the detail about Mike ignoring you because it would only further Zeke’s point about you having no right to get possessive especially considering how fucking upset you are about the matter. Why the fuck isn’t he talking to you?

“Want me to help take the edge off?” Zeke asks when you finish venting.

You look at him with one raised eyebrow, tempted to reply with a smart-aleck ‘only if you plan on seeing it through’, but that sounds like too much of an ultimatum, too manipulative. You’ve made it this long without being a shady bitch, and you have no intention of becoming one.

He can see the gears turning in your head, leans forward and grabs your hand before urging, “Come over. Skip your evening class, and we can just… Relax.”

You snort when he wriggles his eyebrows suggestively, possibly the first time you’ve smiled today. “I really shouldn’t skip. We’re reviewing for our exam next week.”

“All the more reason to. You’re not getting any new information. You can just go back over it on your own.”

He has a point. You have all the notes and PowerPoints, and the idea of just lounging and fucking is very tempting since the last time you had sex was the night with Mike.

And, just like that, your stomach is in knots again. Why won’t he just text back?

Sighing, you come to the conclusion that a distraction is exactly what you need.

“Yeah, okay. That sounds nice.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure it’s more than nice.”

Zeke finishes his meal then asks for a to-go bowl for yours, and after about fifteen minutes, you’re in his apartment.

“Let’s watch something while my food settles, and then we can you know…”

“You know,” you mimic, putting the leftovers up in the fridge then joining him on the couch.

He turns on some underground horror movie that doesn’t exactly set the mood, but you power through about half of it before all but throwing yourself at Zeke as soon as he pats his lap.

Chuckling, he helps take your shirt off, kisses your collarbone and murmurs, “Damn, should we just move straight to the bedroom?”

“I literally could not give less of a fuck. Whatever you wanna do.”

He grips your thighs and stands, making you hold onto his shoulders for dear life as he walks into the back and drops you on his bed. You immediately kick your pants off, a constant stream of ‘yes yes yes’ running through your mind. You need this. God, you need this.

But, when Zeke curls over you, he doesn’t feel broad enough, and when he kisses you, his beard is too thick, and when he trails his hands down your body, they’re barely calloused.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to turn your brain off—please, just turn off—because you should only be thinking of Zeke.

Zeke who circles your nipple with his tongue, who brushes fingers over your bare pussy and groans at how the sensation makes you arch into his mouth.

“Can’t wait to stuff this pretty cunt,” he breathes before grazing his teeth over pebbled flesh.

His voice isn’t deep enough. His blue eyes have a different shine from the green you're so used to.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, just let him—

Shimmying down your body, Zeke spreads you open and pushes spit from his mouth to land on your clit and drip downward. It makes you gasp, and you feel that familiar throb of arousal that grows when he starts rubbing soft circles over the sensitive bundle.

“Oh, shit,” you huff.

Heat pools between your legs as he continues the motion, only stopping to replace his finger with his mouth.

You let out a high-pitched moan, thinking to yourself, what about pillows? You can get a better angle with pillows. It doesn’t matter in the long run as he drags his tongue over your entrance, dipping inside for just a second before going back to swirling the muscle around your clit.

A finger is pushed into you a little too roughly. It’s not quite long enough, not quite thick enough, but it still feels good, especially once Zeke finds your g-spot and massages it until you’re whimpering and begging for more.

“You think you’re ready, sweetheart?” He speaks into your thigh, a thigh that was once littered with dark bruises from another mouth.

“Yes,” you pant. “Yes, please, please, Zeke.” Even his name feels foreign falling from your lips despite having said it hundreds of times.

You don’t understand why your mind is sabotaging you like this. You’ve been desperate for Zeke for months now, so why is it that you’re finally getting what you want but can only think about Mike? What is wrong with you?

He scissors two fingers inside of you, making sure you’re nice and stretched, and you want to tell him to hurry up, that you’ve taken someone substantially longer and thicker, because yeah, Zeke has a nice cock, big enough to be satisfying, flushed pink at the tip and dripping, but it’s doubtful that he’s gonna hurt you.

He has a lovely upward curve that drags over your spot as he slides into you, and it makes you groan, eyebrows knitting together as Zeke swears.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he breathes, giving a few experimental thrusts.

You can take him without issue, wet and stretched, and god yes, finally. Finally. His pace quickens, coarse hairs on his pelvis rubbing against your clit and causing your eyes to roll back. Locking your ankles around his waist, you grin at the new angle, and Zeke huffs out an appreciative, “So fucking sexy when you smile for me, baby.” You stick your tongue between your teeth, something between a moan and a laugh leaving your throat, and he coos another, “Feel good?”

“Ye-es.”

Your mind is finally cleared—for a few minutes, at least—until Zeke pulls out and tells you to turn over. “Hands and knees.”

You comply, and when Zeke spreads your cheeks and shoves his cock back into your wet pussy, the memory of Mike’s tongue on your asshole flashes through your brain.

“Jesus Christ,” you whine.

Zeke’s balls slap your clit with every snap of his hips, the sound of skin on skin ringing through the room. It’s so fucking lewd, the sweat breaking out on both of you only making the noises more obscene. The fingers of one hand are gripping you tightly while Zeke brings his other down on your ass with a little too much force. The burning that follows feels good, makes you hiss and push back against him.

Pulling out so that only his cockhead is inside you, Zeke stills to focus solely on spanking you, alternating between cheeks as heat radiates from them. You cry and keep moving to the best of your ability, fucking yourself on his length as you get lost in sensation.

You lose track of time. Zeke switches between abusing your ass and leaning over you to grope your tits. No matter what he’s doing, you’re moaning, and eventually your own hand travels between your legs to play with your clit, the pressure in your gut becoming too much. You need to come, need that release, and when your back arches and your muscles tense, Zeke growls against your spine, “Fuck yes, come on my cock—just wanna feel you—”

He lets out a little, “Ha,” when you pulse around him, gushing slick and leaving you overstimulated as he continues to fuck into you harshly.

Your arms give out, elbows buckling and sending you falling face first into the pillow. Every noise you make grows in volume but remains muffled. Zeke is relentless in his strokes, but he thankfully doesn’t last much longer, droplets of sweat landing on your back as he curls over you once again, breathing heavily into your ear, “Can I come inside? Lemme come inside you.”

Before you can realize what you’re doing, you shake your head, turning your cheek to the cushion and panting, “No, don’t.”

It shouldn’t matter. You’re protected, and you’ve done it before, but…

You only want to do that for one person. You don’t want to let anyone else.

“Don’t, Zeke, I—”

“Did you let him come in you?” He suddenly asks. “Did you let him fill you with cum?”

He reaches around you to pinch your clit, and you squeal and squirm, trying to get him to drop his hand, but he doesn’t, just holds it with two fingers and taps the swollen bud without mercy.

“Did you?”

“No!” You lie, voice rising. “Fuck, I didn’t let him!”

Zeke scoffs. “I don’t believe you,” pinching hard enough to make tears spring up in your eyes before letting go. He returns to your hips, blunt fingernails digging into your skin as he gives a few more thrusts and groans, spilling into you then moving you back and forth on his cock, watching his own cum get pushed further into your hole and coat the entirety of his length.

“God dammit, what the fuck, Zeke?” You speak through gritted teeth, shoving back against him suddenly and with enough force to make him lose his balance and fall backward. You can feel thick fluid dripping down your thighs and turn to glare at him only to find him smirking at you.

The space behind your eyes grows hot with tears you refuse to shed in front of him. Instead, you get up and walk to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it before sitting down on the toilet with your head in your hands.

You shouldn’t be as upset as you are, generally like the feeling of guys releasing inside of you. It’s just hot. But, you had not wanted it this time. You weren’t ready for it, and now you can’t help but feel… tainted.

You pee then hop into the shower to rinse off, to cleanse yourself and calm down, and once the hot water has drained you of most of your anger, you slip into one of Zeke’s t-shirts and go back outside. He’s in sweatpants, sipping on water as he stares at the TV.

“Feel better?” He questions without actually looking at you.

You’re free to roll your eyes, but you think you sound convincing when you answer, “Yeah, a lot.”

He hums. “Didn’t seem like it.”

“I mean,” you sigh and move to sit down next to him, one leg tucked under you as you think about how you want to word what’s on your mind. “When I ask you not to do something, I, you know, want you to actually listen."

Now, he turns to look at you wearing an expression frighteningly similar to the one he'd worn the day he humiliated you on the very couch you're sitting in.

"Oh, so you want me to respect your wishes." He doesn't sound at all sympathetic. "Kind of like I wanted you to respect mine before you went and fucked Zacharias."

"Alright," you drawl. "We're back to this again. Awesome."

He didn't ever explicitly ask you not to sleep with anyone else. At that point, you don't know if Zeke even saw you as a legitimate girlfriend. And, you understand why he's annoyed by your actions, but you're getting extremely fucking tired of him dangling it over your head.

"Uh, yeah, we are."

Taking a deep breath, you try to keep a level head, to appear collected when you tell him, "Look, I see your frustration. I get it. But, me sleeping with Mike is a little different than—"

"How?" Zeke cuts you off. "How is it different?"

"Because what you did in there was against my fucking will. I told you not to come inside me, and you still did."

Zeke is on his feet in an instant. "Is that a fucking accusation?"

"No, no," you hold your hands up in defense as you peer up at him. "I'm not trying to say that everything that happened in there was non-consensual—"

"Sounds a lot like you are."

You're starting to panic. You don't like how hostile he's getting when he isn't even trying to understand you.

"You're trying to fill in blanks that aren't there, Zeke. I'm not trying to accuse you or get you in trouble or anything. I'm trying to explain how fucked up—how scary—it is for someone to ignore your boundaries in the bedroom."

He makes a little, "Tch," then mutters, "You're blowing it out of proportion."

It's about the worst thing he could say to you. Firstly, he's the one getting offended by the situation, and secondly, it completely invalidates you.

"You're the one who was so desperate for sex you went and fucked someone else," he adds.

You massage your temples, figure you need to remove yourself before saying something you can't take back.

Your phone is still on the armrest where you left it before going to the back, and it lights up with a text—Hitch—and displays the time. It's only five. If you wanted, you could still make it to your six o'clock class.

"You know what, I'm gonna put a pin in this so we can both simmer down. We can revisit it later."

Zeke doesn't seem to like that solution, or lack thereof. You grab your shirt off the floor then pad back to the bedroom to change into the clothes you picked out for the day, texting Hitch back while you're hidden.

She had asked what you were up to, and you reply with, at Zeke's. Could you by any chance pick me up? I didn't drive and we just got into a spat.

on my way 😘

You waste a little time before deciding to brave your boyfriend again, simply telling him that you're just gonna go to class and that Hitch is coming to get you.

"Fine," he dismisses.

You think about giving him a little peck but decide against it, opting to just grab your backpack and slip on your shoes.

"I'll text you," you tell him.

He replies with a short, "Sure," and you take that as your cue to leave.

It doesn't take long for Hitch to get there and takes even less time for her to ask what happened.

At last, you give her the full scoop (barring Zeke's meltdown after originally finding out you slept with Mike). She frowns almost the whole way through, and you expect her to either soothe you or tell you that he's being an asshole, but instead, she clicks her tongue and mutters, "I don't get why you aren't just dating Mike. Like, yeah, Zeke's hot and all, but you and Mike have always had a thing. And, you both obviously like each other so whyyy," she ends in a frustrated whine.

"Because Mike and I…" You trail off. You don't really know, honestly, not for a few seconds at least, and when it hits you, it isn't some big epiphany. It's more like a natural thought. "Because Mike is long-term. If we got together it would be, like, the real deal. And, I don't think either of us are ready for that."

It feels good to admit both to Hitch and to yourself. You never thought about it in depth before, mostly because while you've known about his feelings for you for a good while, you haven't fully accepted your own.

But, if the hurt you're feeling at him not texting you back is anything to go on (not to mention how much you thought of him while fucking Zeke), your fondness for him has probably turned into something more, something deeper.

"I don't understand what's so bad about the real deal, but whatever. You guys will sort it out in your own time."

"I don't know about that," you mumble. "He hasn't talked to me since that morning. Just won't reply to any of my texts or calls."

"That's weird," Hitch thinks out loud as she pulls into the parking lot. "If anything, I thought he'd be fighting even harder now."

"Yeah, well, that is clearly not the case." You grab your bag out of the backseat, guessing, "He must be mad at me or something."

"Maybe. Maybe he's just trying to give you space."

Shrugging, you get out of the car, forcing a smile as you thank your friend for the ride.

"Any time. One more thing, though," Hitch stops you." You tilt your head in curiosity as her face grows uncharacteristically serious. "Next time Zeke uses that against you, tell him to fuck off. And, consider dumping him."

"I mean, I did fuck up by sleeping with Mike."

"Yeah, but you and Zeke aren't gonna work if he keeps holding that over you. Something like that isn't supposed to be leverage. If he can't handle it, he needs to leave."

It's rare that Hitch loses her happy go lucky attitude, so seeing her like this is a little jarring.

"I'll take it into consideration."

As you walk into the dorms, you pout about how your shitty day only got shittier. All you want to do is talk to your best friend, but that's obviously not gonna happen.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #tw noncon #tw manipulation #and just to be safe #tw abuse

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aizawaslovebot · 4 years ago

Text

NOW PLAYING: the ex factor by iwaizumi hajime

—reader pronouns: he/him

—warnings: curse words ; had to be cut into two parts bec i want it that way ><

—summary: desperate times mean desperate measures, and y/n l/n is definitely the embodiment of desperate. eager to make his ex jealous for reasons undisclosed (read as: he's just petty), he asks his long-time best friend, iwaizumi hajime, to pretend as his boyfriend.

—note: the second part will be out in 3 days! VERY SORRY FOR THE VERY LONG WAIT UHU

TAGLIST: OPEN ; send an ask to be added even if you've already sent an ask back then!! because all that i could recall is @ohmygodronnie2020 and @beyond-the-mxxn

<- the sweetheart playlist | part i | part ii ->

Iwaizumi Hajime should’ve trusted his gut when it went crazy at the sight of you, Y/N L/N, whose eyes held a very mischievous glint that Iwa hated. He also should’ve turned you down immediately the moment you opened your mouth. Iwa definitely should’ve reprimanded you for roping him into this stupid plan.

Sadly, all he’s doing is crying over spilt milk.

He could remember it like it was yesterday. Years of dealing with Shittykawa meant that he knew when bullshit was about to happen. He thought going to California meant finally meeting someone who isn't an idiot on the daily. You were his contradiction. You were his idiot— basically like Shittykawa’s younger, much more mischievous brother.

Honestly, did Iwaizumi only attract idiots?

On the days you aren’t going on and on and on about why the government should be overthrown or why the both of you should buy a frog table for your shared dorm, he found you to be a nice guy. The people Iwa has met always had a hidden layer to them and you were one of them. Shittykawa was one too. Though Iwa wishes he didn’t introduce the both of you to each other— you become an unstoppable ball of everything annoying when you talk to each other.

But I digress. Iwa isn’t here to cry over why he only had chaos for best friends. Iwa is here because you, Y/N L/N, while you happened to be Iwa’s contradiction for all things he considered his norm, had asked him a very big favor.

“No,” Iwaizumi grunts, regretting even entertaining the male’s request. He could see your (h/c) hair bob as you groan out of frustration. Unbeknownst to the male, you were mulling over using what has to be Iwa’s biggest weakness: your very adorable puppy eyes.

“Iwa-chaaaan,” You sniff, putting on doe-eyes for Iwa to see, “I really want to make him jealous.”

Iwa sighs, subtly turning away so he didn’t have to see the tear-stained cheeks and the glossy eyes. The poor male was about to speak, pointing out that you had been influenced by Oikawa with the damn nickname, but he was cut off.

“He hurt me a lot, y’know?” You started to well up, for real this time, “I just wanted revenge…”

Iwa sighs again but he noticeably softens, opening his arms to let you cry while he hugs you. As you wept, you accepted his gesture and immediately let yourself be engulfed in your best friend’s arms. “You’ve yet to tell me why you two broke up, dumbass,” Iwa chided, though it was lighthearted.

“Zumi, is this your backhanded way of saying yes?” You asked, but your voice was muffled by his chest.

Iwa sighs for the nth time that day as he finally resigns to his fate, “Yes.”

That encounter was a week ago. You gave Iwaizumi enough time to prepare and regret his life choices. Honestly, he should’ve predicted that his idiot timed things perfectly so that your stupid plan would take place on the university-wide party the following week. Iwa could proudly say that most of his predictions were accurate and on point. Then again, his predictions were futile anyway— the best example could be his judgement on your then-boyfriend, Akuma Azamuku.

The brunette could clearly remember how he was able to discern more than enough red flags from just meeting the god forsaken guy. It was annoying how blind you could be when you’re heads over heels in love with the wrong people. Were you not really able to see how toxic this… Akuma guy is? Terrible name too, might he add. Iwaizumi would rather you date him than this devil spawn.

But he didn’t move a muscle. Iwaizumi didn’t move a muscle especially after that thought emerged from his head. What in Godzilla’s name was he thinking anyway?

Even if he could celebrate his on-point prediction on how much of an ass the spawn of Satan was, he couldn’t exactly bring himself to mock you with an angry ‘’I told you so!” Not when it meant that your damn ex-boyfriend cheated on you, covering it up by saying that he wasn’t actually gay. Not when it meant that you had been used. Not when it meant that you, his idiot, were hurt. His idiot was hurt.

“You’re being a martyr again, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa tutted through the phone, tactlessly commenting once the brunette finished relaying what was going on.

The male snorted, “What are you on, this time, Shittykawa?”

“Don’t turn this on me, you idiot.”

How the hell was Iwaizumi the idiot? No. He’s lived with idiots his entire life but he wasn’t one. If anything, both of his friends were the idiots. Not him.

“Selflessly complying with dear (N/N)’s outrageous request, regardless of how much it hurts you. Tsk, Iwaizumi Hajime. You’re one big idiot,” Oikawa sighed.

Iwaizumi scoffs at his friend’s claim, “Why the hell will helping him out hurt me? Shittykawa, did you leave your single brain cell in Miyagi?” The brunette growls, annoyed at the way Oikawa avoided giving him the straight answer.

“Iwa-chan,” Iwaizumi’s breath hitches as he hears the next words, “you’re in love with (N/N), aren’t you?”

Iwaizumi Hajime was, in fact, an idiot.

He was an idiot for realizing it much later than wanted; for allowing Shittykawa, of all people, to know this one fact before him; and for opening an avenue for bigger wounds because all he wanted was to help his best friend. He probably had to be the biggest idiot among the three— and that’s saying a lot… like more than a lot.

The soon-to-be trainer could hear his pro best friend sigh in response to his stunned silence. Iwa concludes that it was weird to be on the receiving end of a tired sigh but he doesn’t utter a word. Not even after Oikawa begins to speak again. “I can’t even bring myself to tease you tonight… or today… or whatever time it is there, Iwa-chan. What will you do now?”

Iwaizumi wasn’t the type to let himself get involved in petty things like this nor does he let himself go against judgement. That is, if you weren't in the question. The brunette was very sure that you were his contradiction— unknowingly forcing him to go against all the boundaries Iwa had set and done. You, also a trainer in the making, could easily be the death of Iwaizumi Hajime. But if it’s you, then he’d gladly embrace this death.

“I’m going.”

Those two words were a lot harder to say than the tired male liked to admit. So as he ends the dreadful phone call with Oikawa, he secretly hopes that next week will never come.

Even if Iwaizumi tried his hardest to deny, next week actually came. Not that it was a surprise. No one could stop the turning of time, the rotation of the Earth, nor the ticking of the clock. How the hell would he even stop next week from coming? Heck, Iwaizumi couldn’t even stop you from this stupid revenge quest that you had set.

Pretend to be his boyfriend, you said. It would be easy to do anyway, you said. We’ll be in and out in a jiffy, you said.

To hell with all the lies that you had promised. It was beyond Iwaizumi’s skills and strength to pretend to be someone you romantically loved when he actually wanted it to be true. The Aoba Johsai Iwaizumi would’ve dipped; Iwaizumi from last year would’ve never pushed through. But here he is, standing in front of the mirror in your shared dorm, preparing to do what he deemed an impossible feat.

You will always be Iwaizumi Hajime’s contradiction. And at this point, he isn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing. All Iwa knows is that this will soon end and like the way next week came, tomorrow will soon be today.

So all Iwaizumi could do is psych himself up to do impossible— the same way he had convinced himself he was an ace in volleyball or the same way he gave himself assurance with his college application— and push through with the plan.

I can do this. I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, former volleyball ace and soon, an athletic trainer. I’ve dealt with Shittykawa all my life. I was able to get into a college in California by myself. This should be easy. I can do this.

“Should I wear this, ‘zumi?” You call out from the bathroom, holding two slightly different tops for Iwa to see. The way the brunette spluttered at the sight of a half-naked you was embarrassing to say the least, but Iwaizumi was thankful that you had been too engrossed to even notice the reddening of his ears. ‘God damn it, Hajime. Half-naked Y/N isn’t new,’ he chastised himself mentally as he coughs. “Use the darker one,” was Iwaizumi’s curt reply.

I can do this.

You should not have lit up at his answer like that. The sight gave Iwaizumi more joy than he liked to admit. Nothing could ever top what you said next though.

I c-can do this...

“Oh! This one matches yours too! We look good together, huh?”

I cannot do this.

“Idiot,” Iwaizumi sighs to mask his flustered state, “just shut up and wear it already.” You only laugh in response, already used to Iwaizumi’s brash way of dealing with things. “Alright, puddin’. Just wait. You can’t rush art,” You reply sarcastically, using the other nickname that Iwa had begun to dread.

Iwa resorts to the comfort of his phone— or rather, he uses the phone to conceal the undying pink on his cheeks so you wouldn’t see. Maybe if he spared a minute before he did so, he would’ve seen that you were equally flustered; seemingly embarrassed to have said what you had in their conversation. But it is what it is, and Iwaizumi has to continue his emotional constipation without ever knowing that had ever happened.

You take Iwa’s hand in yours before you lead Iwa out of your dorm and to wherever the god forsaken party was. “What’s with the skinship?” Iwa asks, though the way he adjusts the grip so it would be comfortable didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe he had started to like the prospect of this whole fake dating fiasco because it let him taste of what could’ve been instead of just wondering how it felt.

“Nothing you’re not used to, puddin’. And uh… uh… this way we could look like an actual couple,” You stammer and avoid eye contact, your hand still in Iwa’s warmth though.

If Iwaizumi hadn’t been too distracted, too haunted by the reminder that this was just pretend, then he would’ve noticed that you had seemed unsure, seemed too engrossed in the feeling of your hands together that you weren’t able to make a great excuse. He once again resigns to what has been destined. “The Y/N L/N I know doesn’t do things half-assed,” Iwa claims as he drops their hands, “By that logic this should be okay right? So people would really think we’re together.”

‘It isn’t okay,’ You croak internally. Iwa decided to go against all things normal by doing this… this very compromising position that ensured the two of you looked like nothing else but a couple. Iwa decided, despite not knowing how much damage it would bring to your poor heart, to wrap an arm around your waist.

Unknown to the soon-to-be trainer, you were just as, if not more, smitten with him as Iwa was with you. You almost revealed the reason behind your bad break-up and even let Iwa see that he had this much of an effect on you. So this, to see Iwa be so into the role of his pretend boyfriend, both flustered and somehow hurt you.

You didn’t know why it hurt though.

“You okay there, dumbass? ” Iwa asks, getting too close to your face and being far too concerned than your heart could’ve handled.

Everything about this was confusing. Both of your minds were having their own storms as the both of you stumbled upon this new, confusing field in between friendship and romance. Closeness with Iwa wasn’t new to you at all. Him lightly calling you dumb wasn’t new at all. So why, in God’s name, did your ribcage feel like breaking apart from the very loud beating of your heart?

If Iwa had to ask himself the same question he asked you, he would’ve gotten a big ‘NO’ from himself. Initiating skinship to this extent made Iwa’s brain malfunction. Not only that, but the feeling of your waist was very much heavenly and mind-boggling. To put a cherry on top of the sundae called “Iwaizumi Hajime’s gay panicking,” the speechless and cute expression you had was too much for his heart.

Turns out that you would answer the same as Iwa, not that the brunette knew though.

This plan of yours started on the right course. Your dick of an ex did cheat on you and you wanted to make him regret ever even thinking of using you as a scapegoat from his problems. It was common sense to ask for the aid of your best friend, right? He, of all people, would know you and understand you best. So when did your fake dating extravaganza take its turn? At what point did this plan converge into something different?

In other words, did you still want to make your ex jealous? Or did you want to see how it would feel to date your best friend?

Time did not let you answer the many questions that formed in your pretty head. Before either of you knew it, you’ve arrived at the party.

You turn to look at Iwa, who was somehow already gazing at you with that intense fire in his eyes, and nod.

It’s showtime.

—reblogging helps a lot !! thank you for reading !!

#the sweetheart playlist #iwaizumi hajime x male reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwa x you #iwa x reader #fluff #fake dating au #friends to lovers trope #male reader #x male reader

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petersasteria · 4 years ago

Text

The Life of A Mobster's Wife || Arvin Russell

Russell || Main || Taglist

Mob!Arvin x Reader (Modern AU) Requested? Nah 9,818 words (pls send feedback bc this is the longest mob fic i've done and i want to know if it's alright or if i should just leave the mob au alone sksk) W: asshole!arvin, doesn't follow canon, curse words, killing, cheating, so many fucked up shit

* * * *

Being married to a mobster wasn’t easy. Everything has to be kept under wraps whilst having a lavish lifestyle. But when you’re young, you’re naive and you think that everything will work out and you’ll live happily ever after like some Disney fairytale. Everyone seems to forget that Disney princess stories were adapted from the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen. You didn’t know that your life would take such a dark turn the moment you met Arvin. The second he smiled at you, you were a goner. You were hooked on him; addicted. Everything should’ve been a red flag and the people around you told you that something about him seemed off. That should have alarmed you, but you took what they said personally. One by one, they all left you and only Arvin was left by your side. That should have been a sign too.

You told yourself that you’d be happy and you were. You were together for six months and then you got married. Now, six years later, you have a son who just turned six and a husband who doesn’t even sleep in the same bed as you anymore. You didn’t know what went wrong, but everything suddenly changed.

Arvin made sure you and your son were away from him, so he bought a big apartment in the Upper East Side for both of you. Arvin would stay there sometimes, but most of the time, he was working; killing, kidnapping people for ransom, selling weapons, selling drugs, etc. He wanted you away from those especially, Hayden; your son.

You wanted for things to change because Hayden hardly ever sees Arvin and they don’t have a connection. You also wanted another baby and you felt like Arvin was too busy for that. Wanting to focus on your husband, you decided it was best to hire a nanny to attend to your son’s needs. However, it was difficult to look for a nanny when you’re keeping everything a secret. You were lucky enough to hire a personal doctor.

Amelia Avery Hudson is a trauma surgeon, but you hired her as your personal doctor to treat your husband and his men if they have wounds. The other doctors you asked turned down your offer. When you asked Amelia, she immediately agreed. Amelia didn’t really have a choice. She applied because she needed to pay her student loans back. Plus, she needed to keep a roof over her head and rent was expensive in New York. She’s a fresh graduate and she had trouble finding a job that fitted her career path. Your offer was perfect and she saw it just in time. She hoped that no one took the job yet and luck was on her side because she’s been your personal doctor ever since.

Amelia’s only there during the evening from 7PM until 12 midnight. Having signed an NDA, she had no one to tell about the things she’s seen. She knew that if she even tried, Arvin would somehow find out and kill her with no mercy. She didn’t want to risk it.

Amelia’s feisty, but she was nice. The poor girl had a terrible life. She kept moving from one foster home to another when she was younger. Because of that, she grew up strong. She’s a remarkable woman and you were glad that you met her. You weren’t close, but you had a good relationship with her. Sometimes, she’d entertain Hayden which meant a lot to you.

You put up a poster for the nanny position and a few applicants were interested. You looked through their resumes and interviewed them one by one. Out of everyone, only one person stood out. Her name was Celeste.

“Tell me more about yourself, Celeste.” You smiled at her. You didn’t feel comfortable interviewing people in your apartment, so you always made sure the interviewees met you in your favorite restaurant in the upper east side.

“I-I’m Celeste Regina Dela Cruz. Eighteen years old. Um-”

“I know those things.” You laughed. “It’s on your resume. Just loosen up and tell me about yourself. Would it make you more comfortable if I went first?”

Celeste nodded, clearly intimidated. You smiled and said, “I’m Y/N Russell and I never finished college because I got married. I dropped out and left everything behind to be with my husband. I was also pregnant when we got married, so we never really had a decent alone time. I volunteer a lot for my son’s school and I make sure that my son has everything. Right now, he’s on a waiting list for multiple colleges.”

“Wait, how old is he?”

“He’s 6 years old.” You said before taking a sip of water. “It’s nice to be prepared, though. At least we know that he has a slot when the time comes.”

Celeste nodded and you motioned for her to start talking about herself. She widened her eyes and opened her mouth to talk, but the waiter arrived with your food. You both thanked the waiter and began eating.

“Please continue, Celeste.” You said as you took a bite of your food.

“I’m Celeste and I’m from the Philippines.” She said. “No wonder your accent is thick.” You pointed out and nodded for her to continue.

“I was able to come here because my tita- ay sorry- aunt; my aunt brought me here a year ago. I graduated high school, but I can’t go to college yet because my aunt is sick and she’s the one who pays for my schooling. College is very expensive and we can’t afford it anymore because of my aunt’s medicines.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You frowned. You felt bad, truly. Here you were, a college dropout but you’re living a luxurious lifestyle. Of course, that’s all thanks to Arvin. You were just lucky that you married a rich man. But as you sat in front of Celeste, you felt the need to do something nice for her. After all, in your mind, she was hired already.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Celeste smiled. “We’re getting by. My friend told me to apply to you and that’s why I’m here.”

“I understand.” You said as you folded your hands on the table. “When can you start?”

“Ha? What?” Celeste furrowed her eyebrows.

“You’re hired, Celeste.” You chuckled. “When can you start?”

“Um… as soon as possible!” Celeste exclaimed and you nodded.

“Pack your things and I’ll send for Pemberley to pick you up at your home address. I’d just like to confirm that your address on your resume is still your home, yes?” You asked and she nodded quickly.

“Okay. I’ll give it to Pemberley. He’ll pick you up at 9:30AM sharp.” You grinned. You both shook hands and continued eating.

The next day, you welcomed Celeste in your apartment and gave her a tour. She looked amazed at everything and it was entertaining to see. You told her that she wasn’t allowed in the master bedroom unless told and she wasn’t allowed in Arvin’s office.

You looked at your watch and gasped, “Oh, my! I’m late for a meeting. Make yourself at home and don’t forget to pick up Hayden from pre-school at 2:15. I have a note for you in your room. Please read it.” You quickly grabbed your bag and coat and left.

Celeste stood there and made her way to her room. After roaming around for 2 minutes, she finally saw her room and read the note.

Hello, Celeste! These are the rules:

Hayden can’t eat seafood. He is allergic.

No sugar-y or chocolate-y drinks before bed. Only one glass of milk with no sugar.

Sandwiches are not allowed to be eaten in his room because of crumbs.

If Hayden has no classes, you may take him to the park or the museum. As long as there are only a few people.

Stay away from crowded places. I beg.

Give Hayden a bath before bed.

Call me only when severe emergencies happen.

Your laundry schedule is the same as Hayden’s; TTh.

Always bring a small first aid kit in your bag and make sure you have a full container of hand sanitizer AT ALL TIMES.

Keep an eye on Hayden. He is your main priority.

P.S. Have fun! Eat whatever you want and if you need anything, please give Jose your own list before he goes grocery shopping.

Celeste taped the note on the wall next to her bed and started unpacking her things. She looked at her watch and realized that it was time to pick up Hayden from school. She quickly grabbed her small bag and ran to the front door.

Hayden’s school was just around the corner, so it was easy for Celeste to pick him up. There were many nannies waiting for kids to be picked up and Celeste was a bit overwhelmed that her job was actually starting. She never had training or anything.

A few more minutes of waiting, the door opened and out came a plethora of running and screaming children. During the apartment tour you gave her from hours before, she remembered you showing her a family picture that was recently taken. With that in mind, Celeste was able to remember what Hayden looked like.

Celeste looked around and saw a young boy by the steps, looking around. “Hayden!” Celeste shouted, causing the boy to look at her. Celeste walked over and said, “Hayden Russell?”

The boy nodded. She smiled, “I’m your new nanny. My name is Celeste.”

Using his manners, Hayden shook Celeste’s hand. Celeste grinned and took Hayden’s bag from him. She held his hand and they walked home. The walk home was short and quiet, but it was comfortable. When they walked into the fancy apartment building and into the elevator, Hayden spoke up.

“Can I call you ‘Celie’, instead? Like a super agent secret name? It’ll be cool.” Hayden said, causing Celeste to smile at him.

“Sure!” Celeste said.

When they arrived in the apartment unit, you were already home. Hayden ran up to you and you bent down to pick him up and hug him.

“How was school?” You asked as you kissed his forehead.

“It was fun! We learned so many things and we had arts and crafts and we-”

“That’s great, sweetie!” You smiled before putting him down. “You can play sudoku in the living room.”

Hayden made a face, “But I hate sudoku.”

“Yes, but it’ll help you stimulate your brain. Think of it as a mental exercise.” You grinned before softly nudging him to the living room where his sudoku book was waiting for him on the coffee table. Hayden begrudgingly walked to the living room and you turned to Celeste, “We need to talk.”

You turned around and walked to your husband’s office. He wasn’t there anyway and you had the freedom to speak business there. “Follow me.” You said without looking behind you. Celeste was scared shitless. She did the sign of the cross and prayed on her way to Arvin’s office.

“Aba Ginoong Maria, napupuno ka ng grasya, Ang Panginoong Diyos ay sumasaiyo. Bukod kang pinagpala sa babaeng lahat at pinagpala rin naman ang anak mong si Hesus. Santa Maria, Ina ng Diyos, ipanalangin mo kaming makasalanan ngayon at kung kami’y mamamatay. Amen. (Hail Mary, Full of Grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you amongst women and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners. Now and at the hour of our death. Amen.)” Celeste muttered under her breath. You opened the door to Arvin’s office and was immediately met with the darkness due to the closed curtains and lights that were not switched on. The only light present was the sun’s light peeping through the spaces between the curtains. You walked in and Celeste followed suit and closed the door behind her.

You sat on Arvin’s chair and read the papers that you previously laid there on the table. “Please, sit.” You motioned for her to sit in front of you and she did.

“I told you that I had a meeting earlier. I met with important people and we went through your records.” You told Celeste. Celeste knew that she didn’t do anything wrong and that she had a clean record, but that didn’t stop her from worrying.

Was she in trouble for declining her father’s call from the Philippines? Or perhaps she was in trouble for cursing her cousin. She wasn’t sure.

“And I’d like to applaud you for having remarkable and outstanding grades. Straight A’s?! I didn’t know you were smart. You didn’t put in your resume that you were a valedictorian.” You smiled sweetly. You were impressed.

“I didn’t put it because I don’t want to be hired because I’m a valedictorian. I want to be hired because you want me for the job.” Celeste said and you nodded in understanding.

“That’s very humble of you.” You smiled. “Anyway, I submitted your records to multiple colleges and they immediately got back to me.”

You opened the drawer and took out at least ten envelopes from well known universities. You handed the envelopes to her and motioned for her to read each one.

Yale University

Stanford University

Harvard University

New York University

Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Cornell University

Brown University

University of California, Los Angeles

University of Pennsylvania

Columbia University

“I want you to look through those and read each one. You also have the freedom to check each university’s website to see what they look and what they offer and if what they’re offering is what you want, tell me.” You told her.

“That’s very nice of you, ma’am.” Celeste said, clearly overwhelmed with what you just told her. “I can’t afford it. It’s too- mahal. Ang mahal po kasi.(expensive. It’s too expensive.)”

You stared at her as she spoke to you in a foreign language. Not just any foreign language, her native language. She quickly realized what she said and said, “The tuition fee is too expensive.”

“You know, for a valedictorian, you’re kind of slow.” You joked. “Sweetie, you don’t have to worry about it because we’ll pay for your tuition fee.”

She gasped and squealed, “Thank you!”. She jumped out of her chair, did a small dance, and went up to hug you which took you by surprise. You smiled brightly and patted her arm as a sign of affection. It felt nice to do something good for once even though your husband does a lot of bad things. Sometimes you think that all the good things you’ve done are payback for all the bad things Arvin has done.

Celeste quickly let go of you and went back to her seat. She cleared her throat and apologized and you waved your hand and said that it was nothing. You debated with yourself on whether you should tell Celeste about your husband’s mob or not. You decided against it and told yourself that you’ll tell her when she asks.

“I’ll enroll you in any university you pick and I’ll make an arrangement that your tasks during the day until you pick up Hayden, are done face to face. Meaning, you’ll physically attend classes at the university of choice. Of course, that only applies here in New York.” You explained.

“Should you choose a university that isn't in New York, you'll be enrolled in online classes." You told her and she nodded.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you so much!" Celeste said sincerely which made you smile.

"You're welcome. Study well and you can join Hayden in the living room now. I'm sure he's done with his sudoku. He should be reading his French book now." You said as you looked at the time on your phone before standing up. Celeste stood up too and held the letters close to her chest.

"I think my husband is coming home tonight, so we'll eat dinner at his favorite restaurant. Get ready at 6PM. Knowing him, he'll be late." You said and left the office with Celeste following behind. She closed the door and quickly went to the living room to check out the letters.

You went straight to your shared bedroom with Arvin and quickly went to your walk in closet that Arvin built for you. You scanned through the rack for dresses and scanned through multiple shoes to match your dress. You knew it was still 3:30PM, but you liked being prepared.

Your phone rang and you immediately answered it without looking to see who it was. “Hello?” You answered while grabbing a cerulean colored cocktail dress from the rack and holding it against you and checking it in front of a mirror.

“Y/N, honey, it’s me.” Arvin said. His voice was raspy and there’s no doubt that it’s because of his smoking habit. He’s trying to lessen it because according to him, he didn’t want to have cancer and he didn’t want his life cut short. Despite that, he still smoked… less than before. He was really trying. Key word: trying.

“You’re smoking right now, huh?” You asked, already tired of his shit. You loved him so much, but you didn’t have the energy of being his wife anymore. Probably because he doesn’t treat you like one.

“Mind your own business, woman!” Arvin hissed. You knew he didn’t mean it, but it still kind of hurt. “I’m just worried about you and you said that you’ll lessen the smoking.” You said calmly. You didn’t want to fight with him; it’s useless.

“I am. This is my third stick today and it’s late in the afternoon.” Arvin said, pushing his hair back. “Anyway, I called to tell you that I’ll be coming home tonight and I’m sleeping there.”

“Wow, it’s been a while. How long will you stay here?” You asked, hiding your excitement.

“I’m taking 7 days off. Starting tomorrow.” Arvin said. He gathered his things, got up from his seat and walked out of his office. “I’m leaving The Hamptons as we speak.”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting for you.” You said.

“What’re you up to right now, darling?” He asked, exiting the mansion and went straight to the limo. The door was being held open by Jeeves, the chauffeur. Arvin got inside and Jeeves closed the door before quickly getting in and driving.

“I’m picking a dress for tonight. I made reservations because you’re coming home.” You told him and he smiled.

“That’s sweet of you, darling. I’ll text you when I’m almost home, okay?” Arvin said.

“Oh, ok-”

Arvin hung up the phone and you sighed. You put the phone on top of the small chair before picking another dress.

Hours later, you received a text from Arvin saying that he was already around the corner and that he’ll just wait for you in the limo. You quickly finished getting ready and walked out of your room wearing a steel blue dress that you knew Arvin loved. You wore heels that matched it and wore dangling earrings that you wore on your wedding anniversary.

Celeste was wearing a polka-dotted blouse and a skirt that ran until her knees. She was wearing an old pair of Mary Jane’s and her hair was neatly combed. She had a hairpin to clip it back and on her shoulder, was a ‘nanny bag’ that you gave her. Hayden was wearing black pants and a button up that you bought last year. He was wearing black sneakers to match his outfit.

All three of you left the apartment and quickly made your way to the elevator. The elevator ride was short and before you knew it, you were in the lobby. Seeing the limo from afar, Hayden ran towards it causing Celeste to run after him. You walked quickly knowing that Arvin hated waiting.

Hayden opened the limo’s door and went inside to give his father a hug. “I missed you, daddy!” Hayden said with a smile and kissed his cheek. Arvin hugged back tightly and kissed the top of his head.

Arvin loved Hayden. The boy was like a copy of him and Hayden was Arvin’s most prized possession. He was the reason that Arvin worked hard and he was the reason that Arvin is sane. Although he doesn’t mind having more kids, Hayden was more than enough for him and he was content with that.

“I missed you too, buddy!” Arvin smiled widely and sat Hayden on his lap. Hayden started talking about what happened while he was away and Arvin was listening. Celeste went inside the limo and sat across from Arvin causing him to glance at Celeste up and down with furrowed eyebrows. You quickly got in the limo next to Arvin and closed the door. Jeeves asked if everyone was ready and you said yes. Jeeves started driving and he turned the music down a bit.

This caught your attention and you internally groaned. You looked at Arvin and quietly said, “Really? You’re playing this music again?”

Not leaving his gaze on Celeste, he said, “My limo, my music.”

You rolled your eyes and looked out the window. Arvin’s music played through the speakers and you decided to help yourself with a glass of champagne just to get through the night.

“Are you washed? (Are you washed?) In the blood (In the blood) In the soul cleansing blood of the lamb?”

The music filled the quiet limo, Hayden stopped talking a minute ago, finding the scenery more amusing than his own stories. Arvin nudged you and whispered, “Who the hell is the chick?”

“Hayden’s new nanny.” You whispered. “I hired her yesterday. She’s from the Philippines and-”

“You know what? I’ll interview her during dinner.” Arvin cut you off. “I already interviewed her and she’s qualified.” You hissed.

“Really? Doesn’t seem like it.” Arvin said. “I’ll do the talking. You already got to know her and it’s my turn now. I want the best for my son.”

“She’s very intelligent, you know.”

“I don’t give a shit, Y/N.”

“Daddy said a no-no word.” Hayden said, his eyes not leaving the window. “Also, can I get a puppy? Jason’s daddy bought him a new puppy and I want one too.”

“Tomorrow.” Arvin answered. “I’ll pick you up after school and we’ll buy a puppy.”

“Arvin, babe, he’s not responsible enough for a puppy yet.” You told him, but Arvin shrugged you off. He didn’t care what you thought. If his son wants a puppy, he’s getting a puppy.

You arrived at the restaurant and immediately got out of the car. You went down first and Hayden followed after. Arvin glanced at Celeste and motioned for her to get out first and she did. Arvin was last and he closed the door behind him. “Buy yourself some food, Jeeves.” Arvin said as he handed $200 to Jeeves through the driver’s side. “Pick us up when I text you. Don’t be too far, alright?”

“Yes, sir.” Jeeves said before driving off.

You all waited for Arvin and all four of you entered the fancy restaurant. The hostess led you to your table that had a small card that said: ‘Reserved for Mrs. Russell’ in cursive. All four of you sat down and the hostess provided menus for you, Arvin, and Celeste. A kids’ menu was handed to Hayden and he smiled and thanked the hostess. Holding a menu made Hayden feel like a real man. He wanted to be just like his father and that scared you because Hayden doesn’t know about Arvin’s job. Neither did Celeste and you felt sick to your stomach knowing that you brought two innocent people in danger. If things get worse, you’ll fire Celeste and let her go back to her family while you make sure that traces of her are gone. After all, if they find Celeste, she might get killed. Chances are, her family gets killed too. It’s all connected.

Anyway, all Hayden knew was that his father takes down bad guys. To him, Arvin’s a hero. But you knew better. Hayden will find out when he’s older. One day, he’ll understand that not all people who take down bad guys are heroes.

You all ordered and handed the hostess back the menus. Arvin took a sip of his water and cleared his throat before turning his attention to Celeste. “What’s your name, and where are you from?” Arvin asked.

Celeste stared at him in shock, “A-Are you talking to me, sir?”

“Who else would I be talking to? Of course, I’m talking to you.” He scoffed which made you slap his arm lightly. “Introduce yourself to me. We haven’t met and if my wife thinks you’re qualified for this job, it is also my right to see if you’re qualified as well.”

“U-Um, okay. My name is Celeste Regina Dela Cruz and I’m from the Philippines. My aunt brought me here last year. I only graduated high school and-”

“Alright. How did you find out about this job?” Arvin asked.

“My friend told me about it, so I applied.” Celeste said. A waiter came by and poured champagne on yours and Arvin’s glasses while he poured water on Celeste’s and Hayden’s.

Arvin nodded, “Alright. Were you a nanny before this?”

“No, sir.” Celeste answered.

“So, what makes you qualified for this job? Why are you here?” Arvin questioned.

“I’m here because… I want to work and I think that being a nanny is the only way.” Celeste answered and Arvin nodded before turning to you.

“Have you discussed her salary?” He asked and you shook your head. He nodded and turned to Celeste, “Will $100 a day be enough?”

“Yes, sir.” Celeste nodded furiously.

“Alright, then. $100, it is. I’ll give you extra if you’re good.” He said before taking out his phone and kept himself busy. You gave Celeste a tight lipped smile and did the same.

What Arvin said struck a nerve on you. You knew of his affairs and ladies, that’s why you never visited your mansion in The Hamptons. You knew there’d be a plethora of girls who are throwing themselves at your husband. You also knew that he wasn’t faithful and you knew that because he smelled like women’s perfume and sometimes he’d have a smudge of foundation on his white shirt. You stayed with him anyway.

“Thank you, sir.” Celeste said with a small smile. She turned her attention to Hayden and entertained him with stories from back home.

“How was work?” You asked Arvin and he shrugged.

“Nothing special. Rodriguez finally paid back what he owes, so that’s that. Also, dad visited me this morning. He said that he wanted to see Hayden. I told him I’ll think about it.” Arvin said with no emotion.

Arvin’s relationship with his dad, Willard, was rocky. It was no secret that Arvin preferred the company of his mom rather than his dad. Charlotte, Arvin’s mom, was the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. She helped you with your pregnancy and she’s the one who told Arvin to keep you away from the mob things. She didn’t want Hayden to grow up in such a bloody environment. Besides, it wasn’t safe. She’d occasionally visit you and Hayden when she’s not busy.

“How were things while I was gone?” Arvin asked.

“Same old. The only new thing was hiring Celeste.” You told him and he nodded. He moved closer to you and asked in a low voice, “Does she know?”

You shook your head and he nodded, “Good. It should be kept that way.”

“We’ll be paying for her college education.” You said quietly and Arvin’s head quickly turned to you as he glared daggers at you. You paid him no mind as you took a sip of your champagne. “We’ll talk later.” Arvin said sternly.

The waiter arrived with your orders and all four of you began eating in silence. Celeste was too awkward to start a conversation, Hayden didn’t know what to say, Arvin will talk to you later in his office, and you didn’t want to engage in a conversation nor start it.

After that, you ordered desserts. You initially didn’t plan to order any, but Hayden wanted the strawberry cake that he saw at the other table. Therefore, Arvin ordered four slices of that. As Arvin took bites of it, he chuckled which made you look at him through your peripheral vision.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, before eating the cake that was on your fork and chewing it. Arvin shook his head, “Nothing. I just remembered our wedding cake. It was similar to this.”

You smiled at the thought and nodded, “Yeah, they are similar.”

Your complicated marriage with Arvin made you stressed. You didn’t know how to act around him, but he was a great actor. He acted like he wasn’t cheating on you, he acted like he wanted the domesticated life, he acted like everything about his family was normal, and above all, he acted like he was still in love with you.

The truth is, Arvin isn’t in love with you anymore. But he loved you; he still does. He will never stop loving and caring about you. He just doesn’t get the same feelings as he used to. Before, one look at you gave him butterflies in his stomach and the world turned into slow motion. Now, he looks at you and he feels nothing. In his mind, you’re just his wife and the mother of his child. He didn’t know what to do anymore, but he knew he couldn’t leave you. Leaving you would ruin him because he knew you’d take Hayden away from him.

Being unfaithful wasn’t part of his plan, but it just happened. Then it kept happening with different girls and he hated himself every time. He knew that you knew. After all, he wasn’t discreet about it either. Both of you just pretend that nothing’s happening, it’s all swept under the rug and it’s killing you.

After dessert, Arvin texted Jeeves to pick you up as you called a waiter for your bill. After paying, Jeeves was already outside. Celeste got up from her seat and carried Hayden, who was falling asleep already. You and Arvin followed.

The ride home was shorter and quicker. When you arrived in the apartment, Celeste went straight to Hayden’s room with him fast asleep in her arms. Arvin cleared his throat which caught your attention. You looked at him and he nodded his head towards his office. He went there and you trailed behind him.

When he opened the door, he switched on the lights and went straight to his desk. You entered and closed the door. You sat in front of him and waited for him to talk.

“Since when were we paying for someone else’s education?” Arvin asked.

“Since now.” You answered boldly. He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded, “Why?”

“I’ve seen her records. She’s a valedictorian and she deserves to go to college. Her aunt can’t pay for it and I volunteered. It’s a little ‘thank you’ for taking care of Hayden. Taking care of a child isn’t easy.” You explained.

“That’s her job. Her little ‘thank you’ is her salary.” Arvin said with his thick accent.

“She deserves more than that.” You told him. “We have so much money, anyway. Paying for her college education won’t even cause a dent in our bank account. Besides, you told her that if she’s good, you’ll give her extra cash. Now, what do you mean by that?”

You and Arvin stared at each other in silence. The tension was thick. It was obvious that you both have problems that you refused to bring up.

“Let’s go to bed.” Arvin said after a minute. He stood up and you stood up too. Both of you left his office and he turned the lights off. He went straight to your shared bedroom and you went to Hayden’s bedroom. When you peeked inside, Hayden was already asleep and wearing his pajamas. You took off your shoes and walked to his bed. You laid down next to him and hugged him as tears streamed down your face.

Being Arvin’s wife wasn’t easy and it wasn’t like the fantasy you had initially thought. You wanted a happy family, but Arvin doesn’t even lay with you anymore. Your day was tiring and chaotic with a mix of high and low emotions. You knew that it would repeat the next day and you already dreaded it. For now, you’ll just cuddle your 6-year-old son and try to get some sleep.

The next few days consisted of doing your daily tasks. The only difference is, Arvin was home and he joined in various tasks. He accompanied Celeste in picking up Hayden at school and true to his word, Arvin bought Hayden a puppy.

Now, the puppy is part of your daily tasks too. Hayden named his puppy 'Jack' and he loved it. Part of his new daily life, Hayden always made sure that Jack was nearby whenever he did anything whether it be sudoku or reading his French picture books.

Arvin loved Jack too. He even swore to Jack that he'd come home often. You rolled your eyes at that, but chose not to say anything. While you thought that nothing in your marriage will surprise you, you thought wrong. After his 7 days off, Arvin came home every night solely because of Jack and Hayden.

'Perfect.' You thought. 'At least he's coming home every night.'

It was now Sunday which meant that Hayden had horseback riding lessons at the back of your mansion in The Hamptons. Celeste was watching over Hayden with her cheap sunglasses on. The skirt of her dress was slightly lifting up due to the wind. You offered your hat to her, but she declined. She said that she was used to the sun because of the weather in the Philippines.

You and Arvin were in his office looking over Celeste’s university of choice. You were making calls and Arvin was checking out the university’s website on his laptop. You were currently on hold and you grabbed Celeste’s acceptance letter from Arvin’s desk. The envelope was open and you sat down on Arvin’s desk as you took out the letter from the envelope and read it.

Cornell University

Celeste Regina Dela Cruz 2264 Oak Street Manhattan, New York 10021

Dear Celeste Regina:

Congratulations on your acceptance into the College of Engineering at Cornell University! We are very pleased to be welcoming you to this coming academic year.

Very soon, you will receive your official letter of acceptance from us in the mail. We are excited that you will be joining the Cornell community and know that you will make a very positive contribution to the university.

Best regards,

Amanda K. Bishop Associate Vice Provost for Enrollment Cornell University

ENROLL AND DEPOSIT ONLINE: Please retain the URL and PIN provided in the notification email you received, as well as the password you created to view this letter. You will need all three in order to log in again to complete the Enrollment Response Form and submit your enrollment deposit.

You finished reading and before you knew it, you weren’t on hold anymore. You began talking to the person in charge and Arvin glanced at you from time to time while scrolling through Cornell’s website.

“I think she’ll enjoy Cornell, darling.” Arvin said, exiting Cornell’s site and you glanced at him and gave him a thumbs up before turning your attention to the call again. After an hour, you end the call and turn to Arvin.

“They agreed to let her do online classes and occasionally attend classes physically.” You informed him and he nodded.

“Do you think Hayden will get into Cornell? It’s a nice university.” Arvin asked. “I don’t really care where he gets in. I’ll be proud regardless.”

You gave him a small smile and said, “That’s wonderful. Speaking of Hayden, his horseback riding lessons should be done by now. Let’s go.”

You left Arvin’s office and he quickly followed behind you. “Is there something wrong?” He asked and you shook your head, not saying anything.

Days went on that way. You talked to Arvin less and less and he was starting to catch on to that. He also noticed that you don’t sleep next to him anymore and that you always made sure that you weren’t home when he comes home from the mob business.

The party was in full swing and the children were having so much fun. Arvin wasn’t a fan of parties, but he decided that it would be nice to have other children around the apartment. Hayden’s friends and classmates played around and the nannies were all huddled in one corner as they watched the children. Some of them even played with Jack.

You were with the parents and you couldn’t find Arvin. It was time for Hayden to blow the candles and you wanted you and Arvin to be there beside him. You looked for him everywhere and you forgot to check his home office. ‘He’s most likely in there.’ You told yourself.

Without knocking, you walked in and gasped when you saw the sight in front of you. The back of Arvin’s chair was facing you, but you didn’t need the chair to fully face you to know what they’re doing. A young woman, in her early 20s, was sitting on Arvin’s lap and you could see her bouncing up and down. Arvin wasn’t even hiding the fact that he was enjoying it. You quickly left and closed the door.

You knew he was cheating on you, but seeing him in action made it so real. You told yourself that you weren’t going to cry, but the tears you held back were freely streaming down your face. You quickly wiped them away and Celeste saw you.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” She asked. She was worried about you. You faked a smile and nodded, “Yeah, I’m alright. I just can’t believe that Hayden is 7 already! Time flies by so fast.”

Celeste nodded and smiled, “Okay. Hayden wants to blow his cake now.”

“Okay. Tell him to get ready.” You told her and she nodded, quickly leaving you alone. You glanced at the door of Arvin’s office and debated on calling Arvin’s attention or not. You decided that you weren’t going to call for him. If he cared about the little family you made, he would have the decency to not cheat on you on your son’s birthday. With that in mind, you held your head high and walked to the kitchen where everyone was waiting. Hayden was sitting on the bar stool while his cake was placed in front of him, on top of the countertop.

You smiled brightly at him and stood next to him. You kissed his cheek and gave him a side hug. “Where’s daddy?” Hayden asked you, looking up at you with innocent eyes.

“He’s busy cheating on mommy, sweetheart.” You wanted to say so bad, but you held back. It wasn’t nice to bring personal problems to parties. Especially your 7-year-old son’s party.

“He’s answering an important call for work, buddy. He’ll catch up later.” You lied. Hayden frowned, but his mood changed when everyone started singing ‘Happy Birthday’ while some took pictures of you two. Celeste lit the candle that was shaped like the number 7. After the song, Hayden closed his eyes and made a wish before blowing his candle. Everyone clapped and you gave everyone a slice of cake.

When everyone was eating, Arvin finally walked out of his office with the young woman with him. He gave her $100 and whispered, “This is for not telling anyone and for spending time with me.” He winked at her and she blushed before quickly walking off to the kid she was watching.

Unbeknownst to them, Celeste saw the whole thing. She looked at you, Hayden, and Arvin and she looked torn. She wanted to tell you, but she was scared of Arvin. She thought that he was sketchy and she didn’t fully trust him. If she doesn't tell you, she’ll feel bad. So she quickly went to her room, called her sister and sat on her bed.

Toni, her sister, answered, “Oh, bakit ka napatawag? (Why did you call?)”

“May chika ako! Tangina, ‘di ko alam kung ano gagawin ko. (I have tea! Fuck, I don’t know what to do.)” Celeste said. She was panicking in her room and she truly didn’t know what to do.

“Ano ‘yon? (What is it?)” Toni asked.

“‘Di ako sigurado pero parang nambababae itong tatay ng alaga ko. Sabihin ko kaya sa asawa niya? (I’m not sure, but I think the dad of the kid I’m taking care of is cheating on his wife. What if I tell his wife?)” Celeste bit her nails nervously. Toni was quiet and said, “Ikaw bahala. Kung sa tingin mong kakainin ka ng konsensya mo, sabihin mo na. Kung kaya mong magkunwari na wala kang alam, edi ‘wag mo sabihin. (It’s up to you. If you think that your conscience will eat you alive, tell her. If you can pretend that you don’t know anything, then don’t say anything.)”

“Kung ikaw nasa pwesto ko, ano gagawin mo? (If you were in my place, what would you do?)”

“Wala. Kunwari wala akong alam. Saka ko na lang sasabihin pag tinanong ako. (Nothing. I’ll pretend that I don’t know anything. I’ll just tell her if she asks me.)” Toni answered.

“Sige. Chat nalang kita mamaya. Kailangan na ako sa labas. (Okay. I’ll chat with you later. I think they need me outside.)”

“Okay, bye!” Toni said before hanging up. Celeste took a deep breath and walked out of her room.

Some people were already leaving and Celeste immediately grabbed a big garbage bag to pick up the paper plates and paper cups that were left behind.

“Where have you been?” You asked Celeste sweetly. She jumped at the sound of your voice which was weird because she wasn’t jumpy.

“I-I went to my room to talk to my sister.” Celeste said. It was true, but she didn’t tell you why. You nodded and said, “Send her my regards.”

Celeste nodded and proceeded to clean up. You walked away and thanked your guests for coming to Hayden’s party. You’ve been avoiding Arvin for hours now and it was like he wanted to talk to you alone. You didn’t want to.

When everything was clean, it was already time for Hayden’s nighttime yoga routine. He quickly went to his room and started getting dressed in his yoga outfit. Celeste went to her room to grab her books, so that she could read while Hayden did his yoga. Jack went with them and Celeste was more than happy to know that the dog was joining them.

It was only you and Arvin in the living room. The tension was thick. You closed the door after the last guest left and Arvin started talking, “Why didn’t you call me when Hayden blew out his candle?”

“Was I supposed to?” You snapped and gave him a death glare which he seemed to return.

“Of course you were supposed to! I’m his dad and I should be there for him!”

“Why weren’t you present for most of the day, then? Where were you when I needed you? Where were you when I needed help with Hayden’s gifts? When I needed someone to give drinks to the adults, where were you? You weren’t around, Arvin. You were busy with God knows what!” You raised your voice.

“What are you saying?!” Arvin shouted.

“I’m saying that you’re not there for me and you haven’t been for a long fucking time!” You shouted back. This started a screaming match between the two of you. You didn’t even notice how loud you were shouting.

Hayden stopped doing yoga and looked at Celeste, “What’s going on?” Celeste looked at Hayden while listening closely. She sighed and told him, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Celeste walked out of Hayden’s room not knowing that Hayden followed her out. She only realized that Hayden followed her when she heard Hayden shout, “Stop fighting!”

You and Arvin stopped to turn your heads to Hayden who was already crying at the sight of his angry parents. The sight of Hayden crying made you cry too. You walked towards him, but he ran away to hide in his room. He locked the door and Celeste was just standing there awkwardly.

You wiped away your tears and to your surprise, Celeste spoke up. “Ma’am, sir, um, please don’t fight anymore because Hayden will not like it. If you can’t stop fighting each other, do it for Hayden.” Celeste said softly as she looked at both of you.

“Hayden is a very nice kid and he’s very smart and he’s very obedient. He does everything you tell him to do even if he doesn’t like it because he knows that it will make you happy. He doesn’t deserve to have parents that are fighting all the time and he doesn’t deserve a family that has problems. If you have problems, just talk about it. Don’t yell.” Celeste told both of you. She was trying to be a peacemaker and both of you commended her for it. It wasn’t her job to be a peacemaker, but she’s being one right now.

“Sir, I saw you a while ago at the party with a girl and you gave her money. Being unfaithful is not nice. You should be faithful to your wife because she’s doing her best. If you don’t love her anymore, why are you here?” Celeste said. You knew she didn’t mean anything wrong, but Arvin took it the wrong way.

“Excuse me?” Arvin asked, offended. “I’m offended that you had to ask me why I’m here. I’m here because I live here. It’s my money, it’s my apartment, and everything here is from me! So don’t ask me why I’m-”

“She’s right, Arvin.” You said and turned to look at him. “I’m tired of all this fighting and all this pretending. From now on, I’ll sleep in Hayden’s room. If you enjoy sleeping with different women, you’re surely going to enjoy sleeping alone.” You snapped before leaving the living room to go to the bathroom to wash up.

Arvin glared at Celeste angrily and she said, “Sir, I understand if you fire me. It’s fine. I’m sorry for disrespecting you in your house. But before you fire me, think about what I said, sir. Also, think about your son. You can’t take care of him because of your job and your wife can’t take care of him because she’s busy with different things. If you fire me, no one else will look out for Hayden. Thank you for listening, sir.”

Celeste looked down and went to Hayden’s room in hopes that she could coax him into unlocking the door and letting her in.

Arvin sighed in distress and rubbed his face with his hands before going to the master’s bedroom and slamming the door.

Arvin didn’t know what happened. All he remembered was going to an event that was attended by his mob allies when all of a sudden, his rival mob attacked them all. A lot of shooting happened and he was sure that his mob friends were killed. He hoped they weren’t.

People were screaming and he heard someone crying at some point. His people were scattered everywhere and he didn’t know if they were alright. He didn’t get out scott-free, though. He got shot on his side and he was shooting his rivals all while trying to get out of the venue to get in the car and go back to his mansion.

When he arrived, Amelia was already on her feet and doing her tasks. She was the only doctor, but she pushed through and it amazed Arvin how Amelia could help them. He admired her and thought that she was strong. Her job isn’t easy, after all.

A few hours of taking out bullets from bodies and declaring one person dead on arrival, Amelia was finally finished with her job. She was in Arvin’s office to get her paycheck while Arvin wrote her salary on a check.

“$20,000” Arvin wrote before handing it to her with a tight-lipped smile. Amelia took the check gratefully.

“Thank you, Mr. Russell.” Amelia smiled before grabbing her bag and leaving. Arvin sighed and leaned back on his chair. He hasn’t been home for a while and Hayden didn’t want to speak with him whenever he called you to talk to Hayden. It broke his heart.

He put a hand on his gun wound and closed his eyes to rest for a while to think about his life. He never really thought that his life would turn out like this, but he knew that someday he’d have to take over the mob. When he took over, that’s when he met you.

In truth, he didn’t know how or what to feel when it comes to you. He’s confused. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing which made him groan. He opened his eyes, grabbed his phone, and answered it without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Hello, Russell.” His rival, George, said. Arvin could almost imagine the smug look on George’s face. Arvin gripped his phone tighter, “What do you want? You killed one of my men. Isn’t that enough?”

“Quite frankly, no. I would send my condolences to the deceased family, but I don’t really give a shit. Besides, it would teach you a lesson from stealing from me!”

“For the last time, I didn’t steal from you!” Arvin shouted.

“Your men joined my mob and stole from me!”

“It’s not stealing if they’re getting what’s rightfully ours.” Arvin hissed. “If anything, you stole from me!”

George scoffed, “If you really think that way, fine. Just know that you’ll pay for it.”

“I’m not paying for anything, George.” Arvin chuckled bitterly before pouring himself some scotch with one hand.

“Not even for your family?” George asked. “Wow, that shit’s cold.”

“What’re you talking about?” Arvin asked with furrowed eyebrows as he took a sip of his drink.

“Oh, you’re not informed?” George said sarcastically. “Your wife and son are here with me. If you don’t give me back what you stole from me, I’ll kill them. You know where to find me, Russell.”

George hung up and Arvin yelled in frustration. He sat up and winced because of his wound. He ran a hand through his hair and thought about how he’ll save you and Hayden. Him and his men talked about plans and when they were able to finalize, they wasted no time in going to George’s place.

The plan was going to George and giving him a duffel bag filled with rocks, so that he’ll think it’s the thing he was looking for; the thing he claimed Arvin’s men stole. Arvin decided that it’d be best for his men to ‘give it back’ to George while he and a few guys would look for you and Hayden.

Arvin heard George shouting about everything being fake and he heard gunshots. In a span of a few hours, his mob was shooting people again. He heard Hayden’s familiar cries and followed it while being covered by Javier, one of his men.

When Arvin found the room where George kept you and Hayden, he gasped when he saw you lying in your own blood, unconscious next to a weeping Hayden.

“Daddy!” Hayden cried and it made Arvin’s heart break. He had so many questions running through his mind. How long have you been unconscious? Why are you unconscious? Did they hurt both of you? Where’s Celeste?

Arvin quickly untied Hayden and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him. “It’s okay, buddy. Everything’ll be okay.” Arvin whispered and kissed the top of Hayden’s head. He lets go of Hayden and knelt beside your body. He untied you and panicked when he saw multiple gun wounds on you. He knew that if you stayed longer, you’d die.

Arvin turned to Hayden and said, “Listen to me, okay? Take care of mommy and don’t go anywhere. Got it?”

Hayden nodded and wiped his tears. “Are you coming back?”

“Of course, I’m coming back.” Arvin reassured him. He stood up and quickly left the room and shot every person from his rival mob. When he saw George, all Arvin saw was red and started beating the shit out of his rival.

George didn’t get a chance to defend himself because Arvin just kept throwing punches and hits. Arvin wanted George dead for bringing his family into their problems. Arvin didn’t care about George’s bloody and bruised state. Arvin pushed George to the ground and whipped out his gun.

“This is for my family.” Arvin panted. He looked at George in the eye and shot his head mercilessly. He looked at his surroundings and saw that almost everyone in George’s mob was dead and the few that were alive, are either unconscious or terribly bruised.

Arvin ran back to the room and picked up Hayden. “I told you I’d be back.” He said as Hayden rested his head on the crook of Arvin’s neck.

Arvin ordered one of his men to carry you and immediately drove to the mansion. Arvin called Amelia and said that he needed her ASAP.

“Mr. Russell, it’s late and it’s not my schedule.” Amelia said groggily. She was already deeply sleeping and Arvin disturbed her greatly.

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. I need you ASAP, Amelia. It’s my wife this time.” Arvin said frantically. They arrived at the mansion and rushed you to the medical room where Amelia was hours before.

Hayden was asleep in Arvin’s arms and he went to his room to let Hayden sleep there comfortably. He hears shuffling around on Amelia’s end as he did his best to tuck Hayden in.

“I’m on my way.” Amelia said.

“Okay, please hurry.” Arvin pleaded before hanging up. He looked at Hayden and smiled a bit at the sight of his son fast asleep. He quietly left the room and rushed to the medical room where you were being kept. He wasn’t a doctor and he didn’t know what to do. Time was running out and for the first time in years, he finally saw you.

He finally realized how important you are in his life. He finally realized that it would hurt him deeply if you were gone. He couldn’t imagine going on with life without you by his side. He didn’t notice Amelia walking in the medical room and he only acknowledged her presence when he was being escorted out of the room by her.

“Wait, no! I want to say, Am-”

“You know you can’t.” Amelia said sternly. “It’s protocol. You can’t be here. Just wait outside.” Amelia pushed the mobster out the room and locked it. The whole time he waited, Arvin was pacing back and forth. He was restless. Who wouldn’t be? If your spouse is undergoing a procedure, you’d want to know about them, right? Arvin had no clue how you were doing.

Three hours later, the door opened and Amelia stepped out of the room. She was clearly tired. Arvin stopped pacing and stared at Amelia who only said, “She’s okay.”

“Thank you.” Arvin sighed in relief as he walked towards the room.

“You don’t need to pay me. Consider it a freebie. I know what it’s like to grow up without a mom at a young age and I don’t want that to happen to Hayden. Take care, sir.” Amelia smiled softly before leaving.

Arvin went into the room and pulled up a chair to sit next to your bed. He held your hand and stared at you. It’s been a long time since he’s seen your face. You were beautiful. You always have been and always will. Seeing you unconscious scared him greatly and it made him realize how much he still loves and cares about you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry this happened to you. I mean it.” Arvin said softly. “I love you. I’m sorry it took me almost losing you to realize that. You don’t know how sorry I am, sweetheart.”

“I can’t imagine the pain you must have felt when Celeste came clean about seeing me and some other girl on Hayden’s birthday. But I know you, Y/N. I know that you’ve always had a feeling that I was unfaithful and I can’t imagine your heartbreak when you found out about it being true.”

“When we first got together, I promised I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I’m sorry for breaking that promise. I’ll be better for you, Y/N. I’ll come home and I’ll stay with you whenever you need me. I’ll be present for Hayden and I don’t want to argue with you anymore. I want us to go back to normal and I know it’ll be hard for you, but I’m willing to try.” Arvin said with hope in his eyes.

“I also know that you’re awake and that you can hear me clearly.” He added as he looked at you. You slowly opened your eyes and looked at him, “I hate that you know me well.”

“I actually love it. It makes me feel like I’m still in touch with you. Lord knows I’d be heartbroken if I can’t read you anymore.” He chuckled lightly before pressing a light kiss on your hand.

“Did you mean what you said? Trying again?” You asked and he nodded. “Then, I’ll try too.”

However, some relationships work out and your marriage turns into something better than before. It happened to you and Arvin. He kept his promises and soon, you were blessed with a second child. Celeste was alright and you treated her like a sister you never had. In return for sending her to college, she did well in her studies and made sure to show you her grades which made you proud.

Everything was coming together and you were thankful that things took a nice turn. Your life as a mobster's wife wasn’t so bad, after all.

* * * *

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @cocoamoonmalfoy @parkerpeter24 @slutforsr @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @quxxnxfhxll @bora-world @supred12 @more-like-reyna

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow @bi-lmg @emmastarz

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell x y/n #arvin russell one shots #arvin russell blurbs #arvin russell fic #arvin russell imagine #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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personuhh · 4 years ago

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okay so awhile ago you posted something about Yosuke (crazy, right?) and in the tags I believe you mentioned something about how you don’t like Yosukes parents? Could you elaborate? bc I have not stopped thinking about it since you mentioned it (sorry this is so vague my memory is horrid skjdjfjgj)

OYSUEJGHHBKEJHDSGVDH oh my god okay SO. At first I just got ~vibes~ from him... like, I couldn’t quite pin down what made me think he had abusive parents, because obviously he never says anything to indicate it explicitly, but then I started noticing... small things.

I don’t want to say outright that I think they’re abusive (physically or verbally) and I also don’t think that Yosuke hates them, or necessarily even sees anything wrong with how they treat him, but I do think that their behavior has severely impacted Yosuke and led to a lot of the negative traits he displays.

To me, the most telling example is this conversation where he talks about Teddie being praised by his parents for being “thoughtful” very pointedly in front of him. It seems to be a reoccurring thing where they compare him to other people (primarily Teddie) and make him feel inferior. Yosuke’s a bit of a pushover, and frequently gets taken advantage of monetarily, and in this case he’s caved and lent Teddie a significant chunk of his savings for their trip to Tatsumi Port Island... only for him to spend it on presents to suck up to Yosuke’s parents which makes Yosuke look unthoughtful. Yosuke clearly sees it that way, even if Teddie hadn’t intentionally planned it out from the start as such (he calls Teddie ��surprisingly shrewd”).

Yosuke gets told off either because a) he didn’t want to fight back/argue, and instead just took a passive stance instead of telling his parents that he was the one to lend Teddie the money in the first place, and thus didn’t have any left to buy them gifts, or b) his parents think so little of him that they don’t believe him at all. He specifically says he doubts his parents understand, which makes me think that he did try to explain the situation.

There are also several instances of a large Junes event being Yosuke’s responsibility, or at least of him thinking that he has to scramble to make things work, like the Junes concert, where he says he’ll have to move away if it doesn’t pan out; maybe this is his own thinking, but I also wouldn’t be surprised if it was something his dad said to scare him into helping, especially considering he MUST know that Yosuke is friends with Rise, or the time during the summer where he calls Yu and begs him to help out. Yosuke isn’t a manager, but he’s still got all the responsibilities of one, and even tries his best to work out other employees’ problems as well (look at his SL).

The Junes concert in particular really sent up some red flags for me, especially because Yosuke says this.

“Awfully nice for some reason”?

Yosuke’s got terrible self-esteem, there are countless times where he’s shown to be overwhelmed and embarrassed by completely genuine praise from his friends. In one of the drama CDs he mentions that he intentionally doesn’t try his best in school because he doesn’t want to disappoint himself by doing poorly while also knowing that he gave his all. It really makes me think that his parents just have an abysmally low opinion of him, and he’s adopted that same view of himself.

There’s also several scenes where he talks about his parents finding his porn (or Teddie showing it to them) and in his SL he says his mom “read the title out loud to [his] family” which on top of obviously indicating his family is pretty conservative about that kind of thing, also means he’s had to learn to be secretive with them to some extent. In Arena, Yosuke’s mother goes as far as burning the porn Teddie finds. Even if it's meant to be humorous, Yosuke's property is still being destroyed.

Now these next few things are more... abstract and can definitely be argued, but personally I still find them important to point out when discussing the topic.

Yosuke obviously struggles with toxic masculinity, and similarly to Kanji, feels like he needs to be the ideal, strong man that protects the weak, etc. Even without looking at specific dialogue, you can tell that Yosuke’s been raised to think he needs to be a “real” man, that displaying more “feminine” behaviors is a sign of weakness; because that isn’t just subtextual, it’s something he very visibly displays, it’s part of his arc. He can’t mourn and cry, he has to get revenge (because he couldn’t protect Saki at the time and he watched helplessly as she died, it makes it his fault), he says hugs are for girls (a common sentiment, but he had to learn it from somewhere), and any time he slips up and reveals his actual feelings, he has to overcompensate, let everyone know that he’s just your average teenage boy who’s definitely interested in women. Yosuke’s not the most masculine guy, he likes fashion and cares about his appearance (the bar is so low) and I’d bet that if he were given space to explore his interests without any expectations, he might actually find he’s into stuff that goes against what he’s been taught. He admits to liking crossdressing, then walks it back; not because he’s ashamed of it (on the contrary, once he realizes people found him cute, he openly brags about it), but because he thinks he SHOULD be ashamed of it.

It’s why he feels so threatened by Kanji, who completely takes him by surprise when he realizes his outer appearance and interests don’t match up. Now Yosuke’s got to compete with Kanji over who’s the manliest, show that he’s not like Kanji, because Kanji’s already accepted that side of himself, and it totally goes against everything Yosuke’s been taught to think is “normal”.

So then we look at lines like this.

On its own it’s nothing special, but it’s not just the slogan itself, it’s the way that Yosuke specifically says that his dad is still saying it. Combining this with what I mentioned previously about Yosuke’s behavior, and a few other tidbits, like Teddie mentioning that he watches violent war movies with Yosuke’s dad, it definitely makes me think he’s the type of guy who’d try and push Yosuke into being more masculine, being a traditional, unshakable, unemotional man.

Lastly, there’s the recently identified album on Yosuke’s shelf in arena, and what do you know, one of the songs on it (The Chain, by Mr. Big) has these lyrics...

In my mind, I see Yosuke’s mother as an incredibly controlling, strict woman who expects her son to be utterly perfect, and even when he’s good, it’s never good enough. Yosuke’s father is busy with Junes, and while he isn’t around the house too often, Yosuke sees him at work quite a bit, large and in-charge, not allowing anyone to see weakness, he leans on his son because he can’t bring himself to ask for help. Yosuke’s left to pick up the slack, and he’s taught by example that relying on others is cowardly, that being intimidating gets you further than being “nice”. Even though Yosuke obviously goes against this, he can't fully commit for fear of standing out and disappointing his parents, and that makes him passive; he ends up being a pushover, and neither of his parents are happy about that. He’s a “disappointment” to them, it’s one of his defining traits that everyone loves to bring up. It's something that's shown to really get under his skin, but he can never do much more than get angry, because he truly thinks he is a disappointment, he doesn't think highly of himself, even if he protests.

Maybe I’m reading into all of these things a little too much, but... I don’t know, I’ve said it before, but I just don’t see how half of Yosuke’s personality would have been shaped by anything other than his parents being Not Great.

#ada's writing #yosuke's parents #yosuke hanamura #yosuke appreciation #WHEW. THIS WAS A LONG ONE.#i literally spent like 3 hours on this and i still couldn't find most of the examples i wanted to lol #mentions of abuse #mentions of neglect #official-redhood #ask ada #ada's analysis #yosuke meta

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acetarisborn · 4 years ago

Text

Happy (delayed) international asexuality day!!!

I haven't written (and posted) in a while and one of my most popular posts is the one about me simping for Asmo from Obey Me while being ace so... what better day to post this than yesterday!! But I fell asleep so now...

The brothers falling in love with an asexual MC

This is my first time writing one of these so it may end up feeling more like fanfiction than headcacons lol.

Asmo

The second you saw this gorgeous charming man it was love at first sight, and he felt the same way

Although you might have felt a little intimidated when you found out he's the avatar of lust. You might even think you have no chance!

But oh boy are you wrong

This man adores every aspect of you. From your gorgeous body to your breath-taking personality and he knows you love him as well.

The surprise in his eyes when he finds out you don't like him only for his looks is priceless

He can't help but blush brightly every time you give him the slightest of compliments, which sometimes turn into ankward laughs if he adds a sexual advance at the end

You try everything to let him know without telling him. Wear the ring, make several ace jokes and even wear the damn flag pattern on your clothes, to a point that the entirety of RAD but Asmo knows you're ace

But to be fair he might not even know what asexual means

He lets you know his feelings in a BIG way, something very intricate and romantic like a huge banner with help of the bros or plans a situation where you two end up dating

When you tell him you're asexual he's shocked to say the least

Not all humans enjoy sex?! Truly the newest concept he's ever heard

He does get sad at first, realizing he won't be able to experience that pleasure he's been fantazising about, but once he thinks about how out of all the beings in the Devildom you fell in love with the demon of Lust himself he bursts in laughter

He stops abruptly once he realizes why you look scared or sad because of his laugh and explains himself immediatley

If you tell him you understand if he doesn't want you he turns serious and grabs your hand

"Mc, you are the most gorgeous, kind-hearted and amazing person I've ever met, I didn't fell in love with how you are in bed or anything about sex! I fell in love with everything that makes you, you. I would never leave you over something so... so ridiculous! No matter how much I enjoy it!"

Once you guys start dating he showers you with gifts and fancy stuff (mostly skincare products)

He starts being super cautious about what he does or says, but eventually loosens up after the thounsand time you told him to do so

He also loves kissing you all over your face (if it's okay with you). On the lips, nose, cheeks or your forehead

All because he wants to remind you every day how precious you are in his eyes and that he loves you no matter what

Beel

You can't tell me you guys didn't fell in love that time you shared a room, you knew at the spot but this certified himbo is very oblivious

"Im hung-" He never gets to finish this sentence again because you always have a snack or food to offer him

Of course this is what starts his liking to you.

He doesn't realizes at first but it's the little things like what draws him in

He always wants to seat next to you at lunch and just talk for hours, he blushes at the sight of your smile or his eyes light up every time he sees you walk by

He begs you to cook for him no matter how many times you already do or say you're terrible. If you make him a bento this will make his whole week

Once he realizes his feelings he plans to tell you, not knowing you were planning on telling him you're ace and doing the same

"That's cool but um...whats an ace?"

Once you explain it to him he's a little surprised but nothing too extreme, he understands and didn't paid mind to sex anyway, he's happy he got to know beforehand.

"Oh, that sounds like you, good to know, specially now, because..."

He stops hiding a big box of chocolates and opens it, the chocolates spelling "Will you be my partner?"

If you ask him if he's okay he nods almost agressively, which ends up in you tackling him in a hug

Once you start dating he's ready to provide bear hugs and cuddles, he's the cuddliest demon in the Devildom

"Hey, I found this food/thing with the ace flag colors, thought you might like it"

He asks you to help him cook whenever he's hungry. Doesn't matter if it's the greatest culinary piece ever or an absolute disaster, he's happy he gets to spend time with you.

Levi

Okay but that overflowing PASSION when he rambles on about TSL, that fire in his eyes, *chef kiss* you can't help but stare dreamily at him

"watcha looking at normie?" He asks while blushing madly at the way you kept looking at him

The first time he finally accepted he's in love is when you dragged him to your room to watch a new anime, he realized you were a total weeb just like him (And I know you are because why else would you be here?)

Since then you have anime nights at least once a month with all the snacks you can get in your bed or couch

He obviously loves playing any kind of videogame with you, he doesn't like some of the ones you do but plays them anyways just to see you celebrate once you've won

Dragging you to conventions is a given, he spends weeks making you the perfect couples cosplay, staying all night muttering about how yours needs to be perfect

Since most of his brothers don't care/like or are too busy for his ramblings about a new game or anime he goes to your room very often. He's happy you're always there for him.

But IS HE JEALOUS

If he sees anyone flirting with you in the slightest of ways he'll go into overprotective mode. In a bad day this means as much as asking you for a pencil in class

We all know he puts you in a bit too high of a pedestal compared to him, but it's because he loves you and tries his best to gain confidence once you tell him how wonderful he is.

"They're so cool Henry! They are so nice to me and so pretty. I don't deserve them but do I want to try!!"

Since he's too shy and introverted none of you have asked the other out yet, but you decide to trust him and come out to him first.

"Oh yeah, I know plenty of asexual characters, I know what it is. That's great! You have my whole support!" This one takes you off guard

He talks about how he kinda suspected it but never said a word in fear that it could offend you.

This was enough for you to jump in and tell him your feelings.

To say he's blushing is an understatement. His whole body is red

"I like you to...But a-are you sure? You're just so pretty an- and amazing and I-I'm just a yucky otaku... Not that all otakus are yucky! You're not! Oh crap, I'm so sorry."

You snap him out of his rambling with a hug or a kiss, telling him how much you love him no matter how he belittles himself, because he's already perfect.

He tackles you in a hug out of excitement and says he loves you too

He has no problem with sex at all once your relationship starts, he wasn't having any to begin with and never thought of the idea of you guys doing it, so it's pretty much the same.

He tries his best to make bentos for you or use any romantic tecnique he has ever seen in romance animes

Instead of overprotective mode he now brags about his amazing partner to everyone he can.

"Mc, we should cosplay these characters! This one's ace!"

He'll do anything for you to feel safe and welcome in his arms no matter your sexuality.

Satan

This lovable bookworm fell in love later than anyone (except Belphegor) did, in the train murder mystery.

At first he thought it was mere admiration, but then why was his heart beating so fast?

Don't get me wrong, he's outraged. He hates that he's not paying attention to class to write poems, being distracted from his books because his mind wonders off thinking of you, and he despises that every time you bring him a cup of tea or flash a smile his face turns bright red in front of his brothers.

Eventually he has no choice but to ask Asmo and he is overjoyed. He offers himself as a wingman many times and Satan declines every single one

He doesn't tell you about this willingly, Asmo creates some devious situation where he ends up needing to confess his feelings.

He has never felt so relieved that the time you said you liked him too

He finally shows you some of his poetry (at least the less cringey ones) all of them talking about your outer and inner beauty in a way that almost moves you to tears

Everyone is surprised by how frequently one of the scariest demons out there lets himself get hugged by you at any given time, even if he's busy he always has time for you.

Also cats. Plushies, bags, clothes, anything with a cat on it you gift it to eachother

You eventually gather courage, enter his room and talk to him, thinking that maybe him being so distracted reading would soften the news

But he just nods mindlessly

"Satan? Did you hear me? I'm asexual" You take his book annoyed but the answer leaves you in shock

"Yeah, I know! can I go back to my book now?"

Turns out you were being painfully obvious and Satan is too smart not to notice.

"So... you're okay with it?"

"What in the world made you think I wasn't?"

He closes his book and you two have a long talk about how he accepts you and loves you for who you are over some tea

Mammon

He has always been in love with you as you have with him, what else is there to say?

Mammon melts at the slightest of touches and compassion you show him

He's so happy every time he's with you because you actually treat him like his brothers should

He loves them but they aren't the kindest towards him, so there's nothing better than hearing from you how much he's worth

He repeatedly asks you for money or pulls out some pranks but suddenly stops. How weird? Could it be that he feels bad for making you feel any kind of sad?

You have to stop him from saying he's your first several times, thankfully it eventually works

He tells you how great you are in a way he isn't directly telling you? But you can just know

"Hey, hu-I mean Mc! You're...the less annoying person in this place...Thanks for that" Yes, that was him trying to compliment you

As your bond becomes stronger he starts to loosen up to you. Leaving you gifts or flowers at your door with a smile on his face.

"Lucifer took my dear goldie for a week because of this but ya know... it's worth it."

When you actually accepted to go to the biggest casino in the Devildom he considered it as your first date.

You spend the hole night seeing him win and loose money, even pulling you in to have fun as well

You two take a break exhausted at a fountain. Mammon sees his chance and goes in slowly for a kiss

"Wait, Mammon. If we're actually going to...date, there's something you have to know."

"You're the most outstanding human, what the hell, the most outstanding being in the three worlds I've ever met in my eternity, Mc! What makes you think I'd leave someone as breathtaking as you over wether or not you wanna have sex?!"

"For some people it's a big dealbreaker..."

"Well, not for the Great Mammon! Only an idiot would let you go because of your sexuality. And no matter what they all say, I'm no idiot"

You end the night holding hands and going back to the House of Lamentation, ready to start this beautiful romance.

Lucifer

Ok. First things first. Everyone can agree Lucifer is (or seems) even hornier than Asmo, so this is gonna get...complicated. But we'll get into that

He sure seems the least likely to actually show the vulnerability of being in love, but gosh did you made your way into his heart

It was a long and diffecult journey to get him to like you, but he eventually got a liking to you the more you guys spent time together

You were able to make him loosen up as well.

Dragging him to anywhere you loved instead of being sat down with mountains of paperwork

Always waking him up after he fell asleep in his desk with a blanket, a hot cocoa (Coffee if the work needs to be done by the next day) and even a kiss on the cheek if he's lucky

By the time the whole Belphie situation was defused he was finally able to show his true intentions

He's a fairly elegant person, so when he tries to make an advance, he does it with style

This means all kinds of fancy places once he's off from work with the most romantic of views. Every day you feel like being swept over by a true gentleman

I'm pretty sure he'd have you as his partner by now, maybe he never officially asked but you both imply you're a couple at this point.

But as I said it, he has his whole...punishing thing......

It's exactly because he starts crossing the line with one if these why you just had to stop him and tell the truth

He gets shocked and slowly start fitting the puzzle pieces in place

"Well, this is unexpected. Wait. Have I... made you feel uncomfortable around me all this time?"

Once you nod he falls in his bed ashamed

"My deepest apologies, my love. I truly hope you forgive my reckless words. I must know, are you not feeling safe in this relationship?"

You explain how wrong that asumption is, telling him how every day with him is incredible, but showed your discomfort at some of the things he says

He was relieved he hadn't crossed the line yet and was never going to let himself cross it.

"I am so glad you shared this information with me, I promise to make this relationship the most romantic experience of your life"

He stays up all night researching everything ablout being ace, he gives you gifts related to this, finds out your love language and does what it is every day, he does every romantic thing you can think of and he even asks you to go to a pride in the human world!

He's willing to do all he can in order for you to feel loved in any way you want

Belphegor

Well, he did tried to kill you, so I'm pretty sure his betrayal hurt if you helped him for love

He knows you're at least a little scared of him and he knows he needs to apologize, but never finds the time because you always seem wary of him

He tries by leaving a note in your desk that says "I'm so sorry for what I did. Thank you for bringing our family back together"

This is the first smile he gets out of you as you look at him

This escalates to him passing notes whenever he's not asleep. In class, the table at dinner, outside while hanging out with you and Beel, anywhere. This happens so often you end up always having a pen in hand to answer.

It goes until one of you decides to speak, you start talking and become best friends in no time

Although Belphie seems too possesive for his feelings to be just friendship

Honey, if you thought Levi was bad he's nothing compared to Belphie

He uses every excuse to get you away from anyone that possibly flirts with you. It's either that or his death glare burning them for several minutes until they run or apologize

He always wants to be with you, even if he's sleeping he feels the lack of your prescence

This is why he always tries to convince you to take naps with him, snuggling with you is the best part of his day

If you're more of a night owl he'll do his best to stay awake and look at the stars with you in the planetarium. Sometimes falling asleep in your shoulders "on accident" wink wink

He mumbled about you in his sleep and that's how you found out and ended up dating

The relationship is pretty much the same with more kisses and hand holding, along with him convincing you to skip class sometimes just to sleep

Also plushies, a lot of them, all of them

You decide to tell him one day while snuggling beneath the stars. Being sure enough that he'll understand, although the nerves are still there

"Okay... so?"

You express your worries and he stands up looking almost menacingly but his words killed the scary mood

"Are you dumb? How did you think someone like me would even worry about that?"

"I'm not Asmo, beds are for sleeping. Come on, lets steal that cake Lucifer saved in the fridge, I heard it's sort of an inside joke between us."

After this he keeps asking you about the whole asexual spectrum, thinking he might be part of it. He's shows true interest at every question you answer and tries to use this new information for future dates.

All and all it's very relaxing to date someone like him, who surprisingly has a very loving and understanding heart behind what people are used to see.

#asexual #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #asexual mc #obey me #international asexuality day #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #ace pride #ace

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writtenonreceipts · 4 years ago

Note

Feysand and “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” - “Well, you shouldn’t be saying it then.”

Kinda sappy? Kinda cliche? Kinda...idk.

Thanks so much for the prompt!

Words, Words, Words

Escape.

Escape is all that is pounding through her head. Just that one word. One simple action that one would think it would be simple enough to obey.

But Feyre is stumbling as she back peddles and tries to weave through the bar. Why did it have to be a Friday night? Why did she have to pick tonight to come out with her friends?

“Feyre,” his voice is almost desperate in the way he calls out. Desperate and afraid. And everything she doesn’t need.

She ignores him. Feyre’s gotten pretty good at it too. As much as she loves her best-friend, it’s been harder and harder to be around him because that love isn’t what it should be. That love is a raging fire within her. That love should not be reciprocated.

“Feyre.” Rhysand manages to grab her hand and swing her around to face him.

In the jostling crowd she is pushed flush against him, the heat of his body flaring around her. His cologne, a familiar haze to her senses. By the cauldron she has to get away from him.

“I can’t do this right now, Rhys,” Feyre says.

Rhys’ violet eyes bare into her, scanning every inch of her face as though he can keep her there himself. But the longer she stares at him the harder it will be to walk away.

She shakes her head and pulls back, turning to leave the bar. She's not sure why she trusted Mor. Or course the young woman would spend the weekend hanging out with her cousin. She should have known Mor would want Feyre to talk to Rhys. It was Feyre's mistake to trust her friend with the sensitive information of being in love with her best friend.

Feyre is outside in the stiff chill of autumn and is desperately looking for a cab. But it isn't the right time of night. The street is just a touch too busy and Feyre is out of luck.

She pushes a hand through her hair and begins walking. A cab will show up eventually, won't it? Besides, it's only a few blocks to her apartment.

"Feyre!" Rhys calls again. She can hear him running to catch her. She doesn't slow down. When he finally does reach her, he makes it a few steps in front of her and stops, forcing her to run into him.

Feyre snarls, bracing her hands on his far too sculpted biceps. Damn him.

"Rhys," Feyre says when his hands grip her waist. She can feel her heart thundering in her chest. Feel her breath catch in her throat. Feyre refuses to look at him. Even when she can feel his eyes baring down on her.

"Please just let me explain," he says. The desperation to his voice returns and in the overhead street lamps she can see the tension lines in his face. This is so different from the calm and collected Rhys that she knows. So different from his usual confidence. It almost makes her want to laugh. To tell him that he’s being over dramatic as always.

“Rhys,” she begins. He lets her pull away and she wraps her arms around herself, holding her coat closed against the wind. “There’s nothing to explain. I decided I’m not feeling good and want to go home.”

The lie is blatant and obvious that it causes her to cringe and look away. A couple walks past, too engrossed in each other to even notice Feyre and Rhys.

“You weren’t supposed to hear what I said,” Rhys explains. He runs a hand through his hair mussing it up from its usual neat style. “Cassian and Azriel were being asses and wouldn’t shut up about and I just--”

He’s floundering for words now, his mouth agape and eyes wild. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying.

Feyre shakes her head and exhales slowly, trying to remain calm. “If I wasn’t supposed to hear it then maybe you shouldn’t have been saying it. I mean, dammit, Rhys you’re my best friend. It’s just--I mean.”

Now it’s her turn to struggle for words. Heat rises on her cheeks and Feyre looks down at her feet. She’s probably said too much as it is. But the conversation that she overheard is all she can hear and it’s hard not to say too much.

How can you be in love with me?

The words are on the tip of her tongue. They could slip so easily from her lips and stain the night with uncertainty. But she stays silent. Nothing good has ever come from bar gossip and if she knows Rhys, he’s already got at least three beers in him. Maybe more. Definitely on the road to getting tipsy if not drunk.

“Can I just explain?” He steps toward her, slowly, as though she’ll run away if he moves too quick. And she’s ready to bolt. Ready to flag down the next car that passes and bum off a ride.

All she feels is mortification. Why did she have to overhear that conversation? Overhear Rhys’ exact words. And then she ran out of there the way she did.

Feyre stuffs her hands into the pockets of her coat. Her keys dig painfully into her palm, but she welcomes the distraction.

“You know I’m an idiot Feyre,” Rhys says. He tries to smile, but she doesn’t return the gesture.

Feyre rolls her eyes and brushes past him, determined to walk home and get away from him. Because of course tonight she came to realize the extent of her feelings. Of course tonight she was feeling a bit more willing to act on them. Of course tonight had to be the night where Rhys went and ruined it all. He is actually very good at doing that--saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing. She used to find it endearing, humorous even.

Rhysand is quick to keep pace with her. His long legs eat up the distance with ease, his jacket flying open around him.

“Feyre.” He’s pleading as they walk. She knows he’s watching her so Feyre tries to keep her expression blank. But Rhysand has always been able to get under her skin.

She stops abruptly causing Rhysand to swing around and almost collide with her.

Standing flush together, Feyre has to tilt her head to avoid squishing her nose against his chest. Which wouldn’t have been quite a terrible problem if he weren’t wearing that cologne she likes. Swallowing roughly, Feyre meets his dark gaze.

“If I wasn’t supposed to hear what you said, then we shouldn’t be talking about it,” she says stiffly. And she really doesn’t want to talk about it. Because how did you tell your best friend you were in love with him? It didn’t matter that she’d heard him admit to the same thing just minutes earlier. He’s already denying what he’d said so why not help him along by keeping her mouth shut?

Rhysand’s hands come up to her forearms, holding her in place. He leans forward enough that Feyre’s heart skips a beat and she knows they’re in a far too compromising position. One that would be so easy to sink into and cross all the boundaries of friends.

She steels herself and lifts her gaze.

In the streetlights overhead Rhysands eyes become pools of black. Deep and endless it is so easy to get lost in them. There’s a furrow in his brow as though he’s trying to solve some equation or think of a solution to an impossible scenario.

“Feyre.”

He’s always used her name so casually. Tossing it around as though he’d never tire of it. Using it almost as a punctuation mark when they’re having the most mundane of conversations.

This time is an exception. This time her name is a prayer lilting off his lips.

Slowly he brings a hand up to her cheek. He brushes his thumb along her jaw and a shiver races over Feyre’s skin. She can’t help it, can’t control it. There’s always been something about Rhys that causes her to lose control and slip up just a little.

So now, when she has this little bit of courage, she keeps his steady gaze.

“You said you loved me.”

Somewhere in the din of the bar as she was weaving around patrons, Rhys had been sitting with Cassian and Azriel. He hadn’t noticed her approach otherwise she was certain the discussion wouldn’t have been anywhere near where it was. But Cassian and Azriel were pestering Rhysand about something laughing and giving him knowing looks.

And somehow amid the rest of the noise of clinking glasses, conversation, and music she’d heard Rhys’ words clearer than anything else in that bar.

I’m in love with my best friend, what else do you want from me?

Feyre isn’t interested in the exact nature of the conversation. The boys have always kept up strange discussions and debates. She isn’t interested in Cassian and Azriel’s reactions to what happened either. She's more concerned with the utter panic that consumed her and forced her to run in the opposite direction.

“Yeah,” he replies, “yeah, I did.”

Because, really, how can Rhysand be in love with her? It’s some sort of sick cosmic joke for this sort of mix-up to happen right when she’s starting to realize her own feelings for him. And hell, who is she to say that Rhys was even talking about her? He can have other best friends. Amren, for instance. Cresseida. Vassa. She’s grasping now, desperate to fil her mind with anything than to respond to Rhys.

Maybe a hole will open up beneath them and swallow her up.

“And I meant it,” Rhys continues.

“You’re drunk,” Feyre says and rolls her eyes.

He shrugs. “Only a little. But it doesn’t make what I said any less true.”

Feyre squeezes her eyes shut, unable to tell if he’s being serious or not. “Including the bit about being an idiot?”

She opens her eyes in time to see a smirk flash over his mouth. His hand brushes softly against her cheek and Feyre knows she could so easily get lost in his touches, so easily get lost in him. Despite his arrogance and nonchalance of everything--she knows Rhys for who he really is.

“I’ll let you go if you really want, but I just needed you to know, I meant what I said.” He drops his hand to his side, fingers flexing.

Unconsciously, Feyre tilts forward, missing the contact. In his eyes she can read every emotion. Everything on his mind is laid bare for her to see and Feyre knows just how deep his words run.

“Rhys,” Feyre whispers as she snatches a hand out to grasp the front of his jacket before he can pull away. Oh hell, oh hell, she has no idea what she’s doing. And before she can stop herself or convince herself it’s a terrible idea, Feyre surges up on her toes and kisses him.

Feyre never would have guessed that she would be able to catch Rhys off guard, considering how collected and confident he always appeared to be. But the second her lips meet his, Feyre knows she’s surprised him. And that’s fine by her. She put all her feeling into the kiss, despite leaving it at barely more than a brush. She still wants to give him the opportunity to pull back and take back what he said.

Rhys however doesn’t have any qualms about being surprised. When Feyre pulls away, his hands are already at her neck, her waist keeping her close. His mouth is urgent against hers as though he can’t quite get enough of her. Feyre gasps, the feeling of his mouth, his hands and the taste of his tongue on hers--everything has her begging to be closer to Rhys.

When they part, foreheads pressed together and hands desperately searching each other’s bodies, Feyre finally catches her breath.

“You didn’t throw a shoe at me this time,” Rhysand says grinning down at her.

“The night’s still young, we’ll see what happens,” she replies.

Rhys laughs, kissing her again.

tags, I think I got the acotar tags right? maybe...and if you didn’t specify which fandom, I put you on my fixed list, please feel free to correct me if you’d just prefer TOG.

tottenhamboys20 @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival @chieflemming @julemmaes @harrymoncheri @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @my-fan-side @sjmships @emikadreams

#feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #rhysand #feysand #answered #thanks anon!#anon answered #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acowar

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dwaynepride · 4 years ago

Text

better off running wild

summary: college au. reader is supposed to be tutoring tony, but things get carried away.

words: 3,360

warnings: make out session

tags: @stanathanxoox @pageofultron @jrenn10 @andreasworlsboring101 @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @ms-allenbrown @ikbenplant @dylpickles1267 @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty

There’s just something you’ve always hated about jocks.

Most of them were alright, admittedly. Those who mostly kept to their own giant friend circles and didn’t pay you much attention. There’s even a basketball player in one of your classes who gave you part of his lunch during lecture, which was pretty cool.

But the sentiment of disliking jocks, while cliche, is never so prominent than on Wednesday afternoons.

“Hurry up, Slowpoke. I got practice at four.” Tony’s broad chest is pressing against your shoulder, pushing himself into your space. All it earns him is an elbow to the gut, and the sound of him grunting is strangely satisfying.

“I can only write so fast,” you snap back to him. With a huff, you continue to scribble your name down on the library’s guest sheet. Once upon a time, you had a peacefully available Wednesday afternoon schedule. Sometimes, you’d go to the coffee shop to study and work. Other times, you might just head back to your dorm and catch a quick nap.

Nowadays, because Professor Gibbs decided you were the best for the job, you get to hang out in the library tutoring Tony DiNozzo.

As if the Professor couldn't have paired you off with anybody less annoying, less eager to actually learn, or any more inclined not to run off at the mouth about his favorite movie that you’ve never even heard of before. And sure, Tony was hot. Jaw-droppingly gorgeous with big shoulders and a great smile and nice hair and somehow, that all just made him even more annoying because he knew he was a 12 out of 10.

Case in point, when you finally step away so he could sign his name, Tony smiled and winked. Probably a reflex for him to flirt with anything that moved or whatever. You’ve been dealing with it for weeks.

So with a cross huff, you turn and walk off in the direction of your usual table.

The table is located at the very back of the library - a stuffy little corner nobody came around or even acknowledged and it’s worked wonders for Tony’s attention span. Out among the other tables, he just got too distracted - flagging down and talking to whichever one of a thousand friends he has, or attempting to chat up some poor girl who was trying to study.

It’s sad, really, that you have to tuck him away in some dusty corner for Tony to focus, but it's where you are now.

By the time Tony shows up, you have all the books and papers laid out on the table for the tutoring session. “Did you do the homework last night?” You ask him without even looking up.

He’s quiet for a moment, slowly making his way around you to his own seat. “I did some of it,” Tony answers eventually.

“Some?”

“Yeah. I had a party to go to. Couldn’t finish it.”

Tony plops down in his chair, tilts his head up, and puts on that familiar glamorizing smile - probably hoping it would keep you from scolding him. Maybe before, that smile might’ve weakened you a bit. Not now, though. Not after dealing with his bullshit for nearly two months every single Wednesday afternoon.

You sit with a deadpan frown. “So a party is more important than your grades, huh?”

Tony blinks and shrugs. “Well, this party was. You really should come along to one, sometime. Have some actual fun.”

This isn’t the first time Tony had tried persuading you into attending one of his dumb parties. Or even wanted to drag you along to his football games under the guise of it being fun and ‘the college experience.’ There was even a time where he called you in the middle of the night and asked if you wanted to go get drinks with him. As if you hadn’t been cramming all night for an exam.

Frustrating and irresponsible. How Tony DiNozzo even got into this school, you’ll never understand.

“Let’s just work, okay? The test is this Friday and I doubt you’re prepared.”

He shrugs and, shockingly, doesn’t argue. And for the next hour or so, you talk him through his half-finished homework. But this was probably the most frustrating aspect about tutoring Tony - he wasn’t stupid. Not by a long shot. He understood the work and actually got the questions right, if he tried. He could easily pass the class on his own.

Yet, you’re left tutoring him.

Once the homework is done, Tony slams his book shut with a smug smile. “Alright, Teach, I’m done. Am I free to go?”

You shake your head and bend over to reach for something in your backpack. “Not yet,” you answer him. “I went by Professor Gibbs’ office yesterday and picked something up that will help you on the test.”

Taking out a small packet of papers, you place it in front of Tony. He studies it, eyebrows furrowed together, until you speak up. “It’s a practice test for the exam. I was thinking you could take it, I’ll grade it, and we’ll see what you need to work on.”

Immediately, Tony lets out a loud groan - much too loud for a library, but really, you two were so far removed from everybody else that you doubt anybody even heard. Still, you glance around at the dusty bookshelves before roughly shoving Tony’s shoulder. “Don’t be a baby! I’m trying to help you pass this fucking class. Do I have to remind you that if you fail, you don’t get to play football? I’m doing you a favor by tutoring you - the least you can do is try.”

The rant just spilled out without anything to keep it back. Maybe Tony’s antics had slowly chipped away at your patience.

And for once, he was quiet. Tony blinks his surprise at your tone, his gaze drops, and then he nods. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I’ll do the test.” Resigned, he pulls the packet closer and starts working. Really working.

You’re left in shock that you just won so easily. Usually, Tony attempts to shrug you off, or he changes the subject, or just tries to flirt his way out. Seeing him actually working - trying - is a strange sight to see.

As the minutes tick by, you try to keep yourself busy as Tony works. Go on your phone, do some reading, go to the bathroom. But in the end, your focus just keeps shifting back to Tony - his eyes sharp with focus, and the furrow of his brow showcases just how much he’s paying attention to the practice test.

But it’s not all you notice.

And….alright, you aren’t blind. You’re well aware that Tony looks good; how else does he get so many dates? You notice the way his jaw clenches tight. Every once in a while, he takes a deep breath and his whole body moves and you’re reminded of just how big his shoulders are. He must be one hell of a football player - not that you’d know. You’ve never gone to his games.

He’s got a cute nose, as well. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

And suddenly, before you could realize you were staring, Tony’s eyes meet yours. Flustered, you look away - but even out of the corner of your eye, his smirk is visible. “I’m done,” he says, handing over the packet.

But as you go to take it, Tony pulls it just out of your reach. So you look back to him, and he’s watching you in that annoying Tony DiNozzo way. Like he’s finally figured you out. “I want a wager, though,” he continues.

“A wager,” you repeat.

“Yup. If I pass, I get to kiss you. Is that a deal?”

Kiss?

The word barely makes sense to you, right now. You’re left blinking and scoffing - a buffer to try to make sense of Tony’s words until finally, you can come up with actual words to say. “What if you failed?” Oh yes, brilliant; act like you’re going to go along with his stupid wager. That’s what you want.

Tony’s smirk widens. “If I failed, I’ll walk back to my dorm in my underwear,” he announces. “Either way, you win.”

You ignore the sudden onslaught of butterflies and yank the packet out of his hands. “Fine. Deal. Maybe if I’m lucky, it'll be raining when we leave.”

Tony simply hums, unbothered by your insinuation that he’ll lose. And as you start grading the practice test, you can feel his eyes on you. It’s hard to focus and with a rush of heat, you realize that he must’ve felt you staring at him before. And your staring had been a complete accident - Tony is purposefully watching you. And you just pray that he doesn’t notice the new flush of your skin.

Instead, you force yourself to focus on Tony’s test. Something easier for you to understand.

7) When did the Minoan Civilization end?

Tony’s answer: The Bronze Age Collapse.

Okay, that one is correct. Fair enough, it’s not even that hard of a question. Next one:

8) The City of Rome was founded in:

Okay, he’s got to get this one wrong. In all the time you’ve been tutoring Tony, there was one kind of date you knew he was terrible with, and it was the historical kind.

His answer: 753 BC.

Damn.

And it just kept going on like that. More correct answers than incorrect. Even when you finished grading his test, you didn’t want to look up and face him and admit that he totally passed the practice exam with flying colors. That would also mean confessing that he won his stupid little wager.

“How’d I do?” He eventually asks. And his voice is low; very different from his annoyingly loud and boisterous self that you can’t help but look up.

He’s watching you carefully, like you have his undivided attention. It’s a little unnerving, but at the same time, maybe a little exhilarating. And you don’t even have the mind to wonder why.

And it takes a moment to remember how to speak. “You passed,” you tell him, matching his soft tone. Perhaps if Tony were acting normal, you would’ve added on a teasing comment. Something about him getting a good score against all the odds, or maybe comparing him to the second coming of Albert Einstein. Then Tony would say something equally stupid and he’d leave because he has his precious football practice.

None of that happens - this is uncharted territory.

He hums again, slow and purposeful, as if he’s thinking. And you notice him lean over just a little, on the very outskirts of what’s considered your own personal space. You catch a whiff of his scent and almost catch yourself leaning away from him.

Is this why Tony is so popular? Because he has his own gravitational pull? That must be it.

“Looks like I won the wager,” he says with a smirk pulling on his lips. “I believe you owe me a kiss.”

His words make you hesitate. Was he serious? Tony DiNozzo: football star, annoying heart throb, everybody’s friend….actually wanted to kiss you? It has to be some kind of dumb joke. A sick prank. Something to tell his friends later on that he scammed you into kissing him and all he had to do was stop playing dumb.

Immediately, it becomes easier to lean away from Tony. To break out of the spell that his eyes had somehow cast onto you. His expression changes, but you ignore it. “Did you plan this?”

“Plan what?”

“Making a stupid bet to get me to kiss you. It’s a joke, isn’t it? A prank that you and your dumb football buddies thought up? Well, it’s not very damn funny.”

You don’t even attempt to hide the anger in your voice. Tony’s eyebrows furrow together, looking confused but you ignore him to start hurriedly gathering your stuff up. You’ll just have to go to Professor Gibbs tomorrow and ask him to assign a new tutor for Tony - if he even needs one. Seems like he can manage himself just fine.

You’re stuffing a textbook into your bag while Tony juggles with his words. “What? Hey- hold on, it’s wasn’t a joke or anything-”

“Right. And you just want me to kiss you.”

“What if I do?”

Immediately, your eyes whip back around to face Tony. The way he straightens up does offer a tiny bit of satisfaction, admittedly. “You don’t, Tony. And that’s fine, I don’t really care. I’m sure you can find someone else to kiss if you really wanted to,” you tell him blatantly.

“I know I can,” fucking typical, “but I want it to be you.”

Slowly, you cease packing up your things. The next time you look at Tony, you really look at him. He looks serious enough; though, you’re not even sure if you’ve ever seen a serious Tony DiNozzo. But you reckon this might be it. And if he’s being serious, maybe he’s being honest.

“Did you even really need a tutor?”

He shrugs, and a smirk falls on his lips. Not condescending, but almost like your question amused him. You’re not sure which is worse. “Maybe not. But hey, you make history a whole lot more interesting,” he answers, voice smooth and sounding like the regular Tony that you know.

It makes you scoff lightly. Eyes breaking away, but he tilts his head to keep the contact. “Listen, you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to. But I think you do. And I know I want to, so…”

You finally stop and think about things. The way he lured you into tutoring him was very....clever, in a way. Putting himself in your domain instead of dragging you kicking and screaming into his. Tony is definitely a lot smarter than he lets on, and it leaves you wondering how the hell you let him get the edge on you, like this.

But he was also right - you did want to kiss him. Desperately. And you didn’t even really know it until just now. Looking at him, your eyes drop down to his smirking lips. And as he starts to lean in closer, you don’t pull away like last time. Once again, you’re caught up in his gravity. Being pulled in helplessly, as if he’s a massive blackhole in the middle of your solar system.

Tony’s close now, so you fight to grab onto any sense of logical thought. “Tony,” you murmur out his name. He hums in response. “I don’t wanna turn out like all your other dates. You show ‘em a good time, and then never call them again.” You watch his eyes flicker up in surprise. “I know about all that.”

He hesitates, and then huffs in amusement. “‘Course I’ll call you. Gonna need help on that final exam, aren’t I?”

Another dumb joke, but you’re not too focused on dissecting the implications of his words. He’s so close, you can smell his cologne. It’s a little strong but also dizzying and once his warm breath wafts over your lips, you can’t help but let your eyes fall shut. A silent invitation that Tony gladly accepts.

His lips are warm and wet against yours, and they feel like fireworks.

Yes, the thought of Tony’s many dates and flings had made you a little wary. But right now, you’re thankful for each and every one of them. The way Tony kisses...it just melts the world away. No more dusty bookshelves or crappy library lights. No hushed laughter from a group of girls that you’ve been hearing for the past hour. This corner of the library is a tiny world that only you and Tony inhabit, if for a short time.

He’s steadily stoking a fire in your stomach, even if he doesn’t know it. It gets stronger when Tony hums against your lips and raises a hand to fit along your cheek - his palm is big and warm and the feel of it nearly makes you shiver.

And then Tony laughs, and you wonder if you really did shiver.

But the detour was brief - he goes right back to kissing you good. Sucking on your bottom lip for a moment, stops, and then waits for you to want more from him. You don’t even know when your fingers found their way into his hair, but Tony groans a bit. The sound of him goes straight to the pit of your gut.

His lips are relentless. Barely giving you a chance to breathe and by the time you notice his hand has vanished from your cheek, your lungs are aching slightly. And before you can wonder too much, the hand is suddenly on your thigh.

The touch was unexpected. Shocking, even, but definitely not unpleasant. His hand is large and strong and when he squeezes the flesh of your thigh, you can’t help but moan just a little against Tony’s mouth. The moan, of course, was completely accidental and it sends a hot wave up into your face because you know he heard that.

But he seemed to like it. Tony’s grinning, and his hand squeezes your thigh again. Maybe it wasn’t all too embarrassing. “I like the way you sound,” he rumbles out. When he comes in to kiss you again, his hands slowly slides up. Just an inch, but it feels like a mile and you’re trying really hard not to start writhing under his touch. “Like the way you taste, too.”

Fuck, he can’t be talking right now. Not when his kisses and his touches are already doing so much to turn your body into putty in his hands. Everything’s hot and burning when he moves his fingers up another half-inch, dangerously close to the sensitive part of your inner thigh.

By now, you’re nearly panting. Fingers gripping Tony’s forearm so tight, you’re surprised it hasn’t hurt him. What’s worse, you don’t even know why you’re holding onto him or what you want him to do: stop, or keep going. Evidently, Tony’s in the same boat. Because he leans in real close, his breath wafting over your ear. “What’re you thinking? Wanna see how quiet you can be?” He asks, voice lowered to a harsh whisper.

You force your brain to start working, and you try to decide. You really, really try. But the choice is stolen from you.

“Hey, this is a library. Get some space between you two!”

Of fucking course the librarian picks this time to come around to this desolate little corner.

Instantly, you shove Tony away, eyes dropping away from him and the librarian. “Sorry,” Tony says, not sounding particularly apologetic. Eventually, the librarian walks off. And his entire focus is back on you. And for a moment, you wonder if he's about to start up where he left off. Or maybe ask if you’d want to go back to his dorm. You don’t even know what your answer would be - yes? No? Can you have both at once?

“Tony-”

“I got practice,” he cuts in. His smile is back as he leans in for another quick kiss. But Tony doesn’t back away too fast. He stays, and when he speaks, his breath is on your lips once again - something so small, but already so addicting. “You really should come to one of my parties sometime. I think you’d have a lot of fun.”

With that, he straightens up, picks his backpack off the ground, and walks off. Once he’s disappeared behind the bookshelves, you’re left alone at the table. Surrounded by books and papers and still finding it hard to breathe.

Were you still going to ask Professor Gibbs for a new tutor? Maybe not.

Was your decision entirely influenced by Tony and his lips and the warm imprint of his hand on your thigh? It’s possible.

But as you continue to gather up your supplies - hands shaky and legs a little wobbly - you can’t stop thinking about what might have happened if the librarian hadn’t walked up when he did.

#ncis imagine #ncis x reader #tony dinozzo imagine #tony dinozzo x reader

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walviemort · 4 years ago

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hidden blessing (7/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.)

a/n: Sorry for the long gap between chapters! Life and all that. But hopefully there will be less gap between this and the next ones, and hope it was worth the wait!

To Killian’s surprise, part of Emma’s plan of preparation was rest; she was pointedly looking at him when she made the suggestion, and honestly, he’d been too relieved at the idea to say anything against it. Even more shockingly, Regina agreed, and for the first time since they’d set foot in this accursed land, Killian finally felt rested; even the nausea had abated, though he was sure it wouldn’t last long.

What did concern him, however, was the sound of David struggling once they finally set off toward Pan’s camp. Snow teased him, but Killian was worried that his brush with the Lost One’s arrow had been far too close.

And then, of course, Pan moved the camp—in the opposite direction that they’d been moving. As usual, Regina was quick to blame him and call for the use of magic. Which was a terrible idea, and he told her so, but did give him another.

“How are we going to find it?” she sniped.

“By using someone he trusts,” he replied, patience waning.

“Who?” David challenged. “Because I guess he certainly doesn't trust you.”

He’d never gain ground with David, would he? “A fairy who lived here when I was about,” he explained, ignoring the jab. “She might still be on the island. She'd be an inside source, knows all about the camp, can get us in. She might even have some pixie dust left. Perhaps we could fly in.”

In the continuation of their hot-and-cold relationship, David supported the idea—and Emma apparently discovered another person she knew to be fictional was real. If he ended up raising this child in Storybrooke, he’d have to be sure to keep such tales far away from them.

They redirected, but David was flagging. And Killian hated that he knew why.

It took some prodding, but David eventually was convinced to show Killian his injury, lifting his shirt just enough to expose his lower abdomen. The more hormonal part of Killian was slightly jealous of the man’s not only flat, but incredibly well toned stomach, briefly mourning the loss of his own, but it gave way to dread: there was a long, shallow slice along David’s side, and black veins were already spreading from the cut.

And yet, David still tried to argue that “The arrow only nicked me.”

But Killian had seen enough brushes with the vile poison to know what lay ahead. The sight turned his stomach, dredging up painful memories. But the stubborn prince wouldn’t heed his advice to tell his family.

“Pixie dust,” David insisted was the answer. “You believe in this Tinker Bell's power? In her pixie dust?”

“Indeed, I do.” Tink had never given him reason not to. (Though, to be fair, most of their interactions were a bit more physical than verbal, and with the way the slightest thing had him aroused right now, he didn’t dare wander down that path of memory.)

“Then let's get her and that dust.”

It was hard to argue with that.

Her treehouse was still in the same spot; given his familiarity, he headed up first, only to find it empty. (Although still far too familiar; memories of one particular night spent in that hammock definitely stirred some things he hadn’t wanted stirred. Bloody hormones.)

Thankfully his pants were still loose enough to hide anything he didn’t want shown as the rest of the crew joined him in the treehouse, although their search came up empty.

Well, not entirely—while Emma and Snow were reminiscing on the hovel’s resemblance to some places they’d lived, David uncovered a handkerchief. Of Regina’s.

He should have known Tink would be steps ahead of them; she usually was.

Thankfully, she hadn’t caused Regina any harm—and Emma managed to convince her to join them. He wasn’t really surprised—Emma clearly had that way with lost souls such as themselves—though he had assumed his own rapport with the fairy would be required.

(He was pleased, however, that Tink was not averse to his flirtations, even if she was no longer the main object of them.)

Their shared history meant she could read him too well, though. On the trek back to their campsite, she sidled up to him. “So who knocked you up?” she bluntly whispered.

How the hell could she tell? Not that it really mattered, he supposed. “First time you’ve seen me in 30 years and that’s your first question?”

“Well, you weren’t the last time I saw you. Oh god—it wasn’t me, was it?”

He chuckled. “No, lass, it was not.” He had a keen memory for these things and he and Tink, despite the numerous positions they explored, never managed the specific one required for conception. “And actually, I was when you last saw me; I just didn’t know it yet.”

The moment of realization was visible on her face. “Oh my goodness. Then let me say congratulations.”

“Thanks, love.”

She then punched him in the shoulder. “You better be damn careful.”

“Bloody hell; that doesn’t exactly help.”

She helped them gather up some coconuts to share before settling in for the night (or whatever part of day it was; his circadian rhythm was definitely off, and his random bouts of fatigue didn’t help). After they’d passed them around, he sat down and was starting to notch a hole in one with his hook when Emma took a seat next to him.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” she asked quietly. “Stomach feeling alright and everything?”

He was speechless for a moment; despite her previous admission, he was surprised she cared. But her green eyes were staring him down, demanding an answer. “Aye; nothing too bad today; thank you for asking.” He broke through to the hollow core of the coconut and handed it to Emma. She took a sip and smiled.

“Damn, that’s good. I didn’t just take yours, did I?” He replied by grabbing another one and holding it aloft. “Good. You need to stay hydrated.”

“I’m aware, doctor.”

She snorted at that and took another sip, but then her smile drifted away as she swallowed. “So, uh, you seemed to know Tink pretty well.”

“Aye, you could say that; we go back quite far.”

“Were you two—is she—?” Emma stammered, then nodded toward his midsection. He had to bite back a laugh.

“Yes and no,” he answered. “We did know each other intimately, but not that intimately.”

She adorably scrunched her face in confusion, then shrugged. “Okay, I was just curious. You still need to explain all that to me, but not tonight.”

“No, not tonight; you better rest up.”

“You too, okay?”

“Aye, captain.”

She rolled her eyes, but stood and headed back toward where her parents sat. The longer he spent in her presence, the more he felt it when she left. This was definitely not the time or place to be warring with those feelings, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He was mature enough to set them aside and focus on the bigger picture—saving Henry and escaping this cursed realm—but bloody hell was it difficult.

The near-constant flutters within began their tiny dance again; he hoped the way his hand rested on his belly was perceived as casual. Feeling that was yet another reminder of his goals here: to make it out alive for the sake of the babe, and let no harm come to them.

He was allowed to have some fun along the way, though—right?

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

Of course, those moments were few and far between. The next day brought Tink’s uncomfortable reminder that they’d yet to figure out a way out of Neverland, and led them chasing ghosts across the island as he brought them to Bae’s old hideaway.

He had never let the lad know that he was aware of its location. Or that he’d been keeping an eye on him ever since he left the Roger. That was still his greatest regret, and he hoped no one noticed the tears brimming at his eyes as he moved to uncover the entrance to Bae’s cave.

Deflection usually helped; he did find a brief moment to engage Emma, but David stepped in before she could reply. It was hard to tell if it was fatherly protection or pure stubbornness against his own fate that was the motivation. Of course, David didn’t want to hear another lecture about his situation as they opened the cave, but he got one anyway; perhaps this pregnancy was elevating Killian’s already intense protective instincts, but the man’s insistence on hiding his condition was infuriating and heartbreaking.

Honestly, the only thing that kept him back from really tearing into David was Emma calling out for him from the cave. His heart gave a leap at that, one that was clearly distinguishable from the rolling of his stomach that typically accompanied nausea, and he headed in with one last glance at David. He could deal with him later, but he’d not leave a lady waiting.

“What is this place? What are we doing here?” she demanded impatiently, trying to make out anything in the dark of the cave. Ever one for the dramatic reveal, Killian headed straight to a waiting torch on the back wall and quickly made to light it with his flint against his hook. At least, he had hoped it would be quickly, but the ever present humidity made that difficult; and then David was again pushing him aside with some firestarter from his realm. Bloody hell, was that man stubborn. But it had the desired effect, and Emma quickly realized where they were. “Neal,” she said on a breath, studying the chalk drawings that covered nearly every surface. “This is where he lived.”

“Aye,” he confirmed. “Baelfire spent some time in Neverland as a boy. This was his home.” His eyes were immediately drawn to a reproduction of the port and starboard coordinates that were still etched into the Jolly Roger’s helm, sending a wave of guilt and sadness through him.

The group wasted no time in beginning to search for a clue as to how Bae had left; clearly, it had been in a rush. And if Killian used it as an excuse to hover around Emma...well, that was his business.

“Anything important?” he asked as she inspected the wall.

“I can't tell yet. I didn't know he liked drawing.”

“He got it from his mother,” Killian found himself blurting out; it was also easy to see Milah’s influence in Bae’s style, and his hand immediately fluttered to his belly on instinct. Emma gave him a sympathetic half smile, but then turned her attention back to the task at hand—and in the process, discovered the way off...partly.

It was a rather ingenious device, he had to admit: a star map hidden in a coconut. Practical and creative; he couldn’t help the rush of pride he felt when he explained it to the group.

“Then you can read it,” Regina stated, uncharacteristically hopeful. Which made the next part all the harder.

“Sadly, no.” Because of course, Bae had made sure to encode the coordinates in a manner that only he could read.

“Which means the only person who can read it is dead,” Emma summarized, clearly upset. She tossed the map aside and hurried out of the cave in a fluster. Her parents tried to follow, but didn’t get far before she told them she needed space.

Kililan only waited a minute before following.

She was only a few yards outside the cave entrance, forearm pressed against a tree as she stared at the ground and, most likely, was trying not to express any undesired emotion.

“You alright, love?” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her.

She huffed. “No, not really. Just one step forward and three back, every fucking day.”

She continued to rant without any input from him—about the jungle, about Pan, about missing Henry, and her mixed feelings toward Bae. And it became abundantly clear to Killian that she needed a respite (he certainly could use one, too).

He knew just the place, too. “Swan, can I show you something?”

“Is it another way off the island?”

“Afraid not, but I think it’s what you need right now.”

She sighed, mildly defeated (which was still as much as he’d ever seen from her), but nodded.

It was a short walk to their destination—still within earshot of the Charmings if needed—but far enough to give them both some needed room to breathe. He brushed back a swag of foliage (after checking for dreamshade) and gestured for Emma to step through.

Years ago, he’d discovered the small spring here; one of the few parts of the island not bent on murdering its inhabitants. The water was fresh and cool, and various fruits and edible plants grew around the edge. Back then, he’d made a point to keep access to it open for Bae; he was relieved to see nothing had changed, save for the few vines grown over the entrance.

“It’s beautiful,” Emma sighed—a heavy thing of both awe and relief.

“Aye. Only a few places like it on the island.”

“Let me guess: the water is acid or something?”

He chuckled. “Blessedly, no. It’s one of the safest places here, actually. Bae would come here often—for water, and to bathe.”

She sighed. “Yeah, one of those sounds great right about now.”

“Go right ahead,” he said, gesturing to the spring. “I’ll keep a lookout for you.”

She arched an eyebrow and smirked. “How do I know this isn’t just a ploy to get me out of my clothes? Don’t forget: I know what pregnancy hormones are like.”

She wasn’t wrong, and he couldn’t help the rush of thrill when she flirted with him like that, sarcastic as it was—or the slight southern rush of blood. “Well, I had planned to do the same, if you’d offer me the same courtesy once you’re done.”

“Okay. But turn around,” she directed. He couldn’t say no to that.

He also wasn’t about to divulge the places his imagination wandered as he heard the gentle splashes of water as she cleaned herself.

She didn’t take long—he could tell she was used to being efficient when it came to hygiene, like he was—and was fully dressed by the time he turned around, though her wet hair was still dripping. And he was more relieved than he planned on that she was already facing away when it came time to remove his tunic; he was by no means ashamed of the curve of his belly, but showing off something that was apparently unnatural to the woman he fancied was suddenly a mortifying endeavor.

He was quick, too, in washing up, and in getting redressed—at least his tunic; he let his vest hang unbuttoned for a bit. It had also been a minor bit of relief to undo it, and he’d need a moment to subtly loosen the laces in order to make it both more comfortable and better disguise his slight bump.

He’d given Emma the all clear to turn around before he did that, though, lest she get suspicious. Although—she seemed mildly disappointed when she did.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing, just...you didn’t have to hide your bump, if that’s what you were doing,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

“Bummed you couldn’t see me shirtless?” he quipped.

That drew a wry, side-eyed grin from her, before she sat down on a stone near the edge of the spring and took a long sip from her freshly filled jug. There was enough space on it next to her for another person to join, but he didn’t want to impose...at least, not until she called out, “Are you gonna join me or not?”

He picked up his vest and coat from where he’d left them in the sand of the small beach and made his way over, then settled next to her. She passed over the canteen; the water was cool and refreshing—and he nearly dropped it when the babe gave a strong kick. “I guess this one likes it too,” he said after he passed it back, and let his hand rest over his belly. It wasn’t often he felt strong movements like that, but each one was reassuring—that his babe was safe from all the dangers of this murderous island.

“Have they been doing that a lot?” Emma asked.

“Here and there; that’s one of the stronger ones I’ve felt.”

“I remember when Henry first did that,” she started. “I dropped my lunch tray, I was so startled. And they wouldn’t give me any more food. But it was...kind of incredible.”

He only understood half those words, but understood the sentiment. “I was still locked up in Tamara’s apartment when I felt the first one.”

“What a coincidence; I was in prison.”

He was growing to hate the number of parallels in their lives.

“Anyways—how’s everything else? Any nausea, cravings, anything?”

It was touching that she was so concerned, but he didn’t dare complain about anything other than the intermittent nausea. As she’d said, she knew about the hormones. “Although, my boots have been annoying tight,” he did add, “and I need to loosen my vest a bit.”

Her eyes had drifted to his midsection, but quickly glanced up. He couldn’t fault her for being curious, so he tugged the edge of his tunic up to reveal his stomach.

“Aww, that’s a cute bump,” she gushed; it was an odd thing to say, he thought, but she clearly meant it as a compliment. “You said sixteen weeks, right?”

“Aye,” he answered, impressed she remembered.

“Yeah, I think that’s where I was with Henry around then. I carried it all in front, apparently.” She quickly grew quiet, and he could tell that wasn’t the sort of thing she shared with too many people. But then her expression grew quizzical. “Can I ask...how, or where, exactly are you carrying?”

“I clearly have a womb,” he said, trying to make light of what was clearly going to be an awkward anatomical conversation.

“Well, yeah, but…you’re a guy. Also clearly,” she responded, eyes glancing at his groin.

“Yes; I have both, then, if that’s what you’re asking, but my womb is...I suppose less functional than yours.”

“So...what, you don’t get periods or something? How does this all work?”

He chuckled at her bluntness and explained—how his womb was something of a secondary characteristic, menstruation only occurred once a year or so, and conception was also only possible at a specific time and when the female partner was on top (a fact that made her blush). “Milah and I...our last joining before she died, it would have been the right circumstances, but given how slim the chances of conception were, it wasn’t something we were concerned with.”

“It only takes once,” she said knowingly.

“That it does,” he agreed.

They settled into an easy silence, and the baby started kicking again, even more once he put his palm over it.

“Do you...want to feel it?” he asked; no one but the doctor had thus far, but he knew women and their partners and friends usually shared those moments. They counted as friends, right?

He was worried she might think he was crossing a line, but she grinned. “Yeah!”

Gently, he took her hand and placed it over the spot just to the side of his navel where the babe was pressing. Hopefully, she didn’t notice his quick intake of breath at the feel of her warm palm on his skin.

If she did, it was quickly forgotten when the little one was kicking at her hand; her eyes lit up. “Hey there, kid,” she said softly. “Look at you, growing big and strong.”

She looked up at him, smiling—and very close to him, a fact she too seemed to suddenly realize, and she quickly moved away.

They lingered at the pond a while longer, enjoying the respite from the craziness of their journey.

But Killian couldn’t stop his heart from racing, and he wasn’t sure if it was from Emma’s proximity, or her interest in his babe, or both.

(Emma, she was surprised to find, was facing a similar predicament. She couldn’t linger on it, she knew, but maybe when they were done, she could try to figure out what that meant.)

But for one minute, they were just two friends enjoying a quiet moment.

————————————————–

thanks for reading! tagging @cocohook38 @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian jones ff #mpreg #killian mpreg #hidden blessing #My ff

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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 277: Go Go Child Soldiers

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “hey guys I’m going to kill off Aizawa” and we were like “no you’re not” and he was like “watch me, I’m really gonna do it!!” and we were all “DO NOT” and he was all “okay okay geez.” I don’t know if he thinks he’s being cute or what, but we will probably have to have a little talk after this. Anyway, so other stuff that happened included the obligatory news copter showing up to record the carnage so that All Might and Eri can watch; Tomura activating some Approximately High End Noumus to serve as cannon fodder to distract all the hero extras; and Gran dropping off Kacchan and Deku a little ways away from the battle and being all “stay here”, which was IMMEDIATELY and PROFOUNDLY ignored as they just FLEW RIGHT BACK OVER TO THE BATTLE anyway to save Aizawa. Yep. Kacchan really wants to lose that quirk.

Today on BnHA: Tomura, Deku, Kacchan, and Endeavor all take turns flinging each other into the ground and launching fire and explosions and stuff, all of which is impressively violent and doesn’t really get anything accomplished. The grown-ups all collectively decide to shrug off Deku and Kacchan joining in on the fight as though they’re teenagers sneaking into an R-rated film as opposed to CHILDREN on a BATTLEFIELD, and I can’t help but feel like this very nonchalant decision will have some serious consequences! Tomura has a moment of self-awareness in which he’s all “is AFO possessing me lol” before deciding “NAH THAT CAN’T POSSIBLY BE TRUE” which, haha, okay. The chapter then ends with Mt. Lady unsettlingly taking on Gigantomachia ALL BY HERSELF??! which seems like a REALLY TERRIBLE IDEA?? and had better not result in anything bad happening to her though or I SWEAR TO GOD.

ooooooooh!

preview of the final battle, anyone? and I feel like this panel is deliberately drawn to resemble All Might and AFO’s iconic battle at Kamino as well, which ramps up the intensity all the more. very nice

and shout out to Aizawa for making this moment possible with his quirk! I have to assume this isn’t something we’re gonna get the chance to see too often moving forward, unless he decides to chaperone all future battles from here on out, which would be good for the kids but also very stressful for me

anyways, so... lol

it really is almost as though Gran asked them this question and then Deku was like “OOH! I KNOW!” and then just leaped into action to demonstrate. “this!! him getting ahold of me, right?? this would be so much worse.” good job Deku

although

he’s not wrong, though. dammit. I mean, I’ve already tacitly endorsed their involvement by approving of them saving Aizawa’s life. you know, for that brief span of time after Aizawa showed up and before we knew how powerful Tomura would still be even without his quirks, I really thought that Aizawa losing his own quirk was all but an inevitability. now, though, it kinda feels like they absolutely wouldn’t stand a chance without him?? hahaha

honestly it’s a little uncomfortable to think about the fact that the Child Soldiers That We All Agree Should Under No Circumstances Be A Part Of This War have so far a) saved Hawks’s life and b) now saved Aizawa’s, and by extension c) saved the entire world. I mean but don’t get me wrong, you still won’t see me writing the HPSC any thank you cards any time soon

anyway now that I’ve said all that, watch Aizawa just immediately lose his fucking quirk right afterwards though. WE’LL SEE

...sigh

why is every last one of the pros so utterly goddamn useless. sorry, was that a bit harsh. I’ll try to phrase it more gently. what I meant to say was, why is every single non-Mirko adult person on this mission about as useful as a RoseArt crayon. why do they all SUCK so HARD. why are they BAD. bad!! they’re just bad!!!

anyways but back to Deku

I’m torn between SOBBING FREELY at this and banging my head against a wall lmao. help please my green son is so loving and brave and so tremendously stupid, just

this is true! and by the way though Deku, just remind me again, I spaced it out just now, what was the reason Tomura was out here to get ambushed by Aizawa and the others in the first place? he was after... something? one for... the road? one for the money? one flew over the cuckoo’s nest?? damn what was it

damn it Aizawa stop dumping your feels in the middle of my sarcastic rants

bro. I know, right?? listen I’m proud of him too don’t get me wrong! the unfortunate thing is though that right now he’s not just your student; he’s also -- and it’s not your fault you don’t know this yet though -- The Thing That Tomura Wants Right Now, On A Silver Platter. so yeah. hence why I am concerned

oop no time to talk though cuz my boys are doing a ~*~COMBO THING~*~ ooooooooh yeahhhhhhh

look at that. “okay Deku you just hold him there and try not to get shot.” truly dazzling teamwork there

LISTEN, YOU!!

THE DISRESPECT?? ooh man and look at his face. this is the happy reunion I’ve been waiting oh my god oh my god

LOL

YEAH HE CAN DO THAT NOW HAHA. while you were off getting all transcendent he was mastering his BLOOP now what huh take that

...sob he’s just yanking Deku along behind him as if he weighs nothing. it’s like that one fancomic of the entire Bakusquad trying to stop an angry Kirishima --

-- HOLY SHIT I SAID “WHOA” ALOUD

MEEP THAT’S CLOSE. whew. okay. breathe. breathe

OH IT’S YOU AGAIN

you guys, is it just me or has this entire battle so far just been one long loop of -> Deku tries to fight Tomura -> Kacchan goes with -> Kacchan almost dies -> an adult intervenes at the last possible second -> Endeavor tries to fight Tomura -> Endeavor almost dies -> Deku tries to fight Tomura -> repeat ad infinitum

anyway so Tomura’s actually going flying into the ground now. that probably came within a hair’s breath of actually nearly almost mildly hurting him! way to go guys keep it up!

and Endeavor’s now echoing a question which many fans have been asking these last few weeks, “where’s Shouto?” where indeed. off somewhere not being a dumbass like these two, one hopes. maybe sticking his arm down some Not Quite High Ends’ throats and making them hibernate

lord help us Tomura’s actually stopped fighting for two seconds to monologue. is this good or bad??

is this a deliberate tactic? are you trying to buy time?? I don’t like this lol. why did they stop fighting you now that they’ve finally almost sort of got an edge on you

wow we’re really just... letting the kids fight, huh

just letting them be right there in formation with Endeavor. no one stops to think “are there any actual adult people we could try and swap out in place of these two high school freshmen?” because they already know the answer is “no there are not” SIGH

EVEN AIZAWA OMG

AND WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THAT?? “la la la we’re not gonna think about it.” goddammit I liked it when you guys were at least trying to pretend like the sixteen-year-olds shouldn’t be here fdslkfjlk

anyway. for what it’s worth, at least we’ve got the only three people in the world who ever tried to surpass All Might standing up here ready to take on the guy whose strength and toughness is approximately the same as his. that’s something. I guess this really is our best shot

YES WE GET IT

“I GUESS IT CAN’T BE HELPED” should be the goddamn chapter title. either that or “SHRUG, CHILD SOLDIERS, I GUESS!!!”

anyway so he’s telling Deku and Kacchan not to ask for direction in one breath, and then giving them orders right away with the next

djsalfkj. welp. you heard him Kacchan. guard Deku no matter what. this will definitely end well

KLDSKFLKSHG MEANWHILE!!!

DON’T MIND HIM HE’S JUST POSSESSED BY A LITTLE BIT OF AFO-SOUL. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT

oh man he actually looks freaked out??!

like he has no idea what happened just now. I’m sorry, up until this point were you thinking that having echo-y “wooooo... One for All... go get it~~” voices inside your head was perfectly normal?? lol boy he’s been playing you this whole time and he’s still playing you. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU IGNORE YOUR DEAD FAMILY’S EERIE DREAM WARNINGS. YOU GET POSSESSED

meanwhile!! both Deku and Tomura reacting at the same time! DO YOU BELIEVE ME THAT THEY SHARE A MENTAL LINK YET. hmm hmm hmm anyway

so now Tomura is straight up in denial!

sadly I’m growing more and more convinced that he’s wrong on all three accounts there. you may think it’s your power and your body...

and wait though, because this is the first time that the idea of him not being in control of his body has actually been brought up, isn’t it? so that’s a nice big red flag there! up until now the argument could be made that even if AFO’s will is manipulating Tomura from behind the scenes and influencing his decisions, there was nothing to indicate that AFO could potentially take over his entire body. but now that Tomura has brought it up as a possibility -- even if he’s in denial about it -- I’d say it’s not only possible, but extremely likely! so that’s a nice big thing looming on the horizon there

and it also in turn gives us a potential solution to the question of “how can this battle possibly end without all of the heroes dying and/or Tomura losing?” because one has to assume that Aizawa’s quirk is going to be taken out of the picture at some point, whether it’s because of him blinking at the wrong time or being shot with a bullet or what. at which point Tomura would basically become unstoppable again and be free to just destroy everything like he wants. but now this introduces the possibility of him potentially taking himself out of the picture for the time being. like if he realizes that he’s in danger of being outright possessed, I could see him leaving them for now and running off to go wage mental war with himself for a while, giving the heroes some time to regroup and lick their wounds. so that’s interesting to think about

holy shit!!

okay so just a couple of things I want to take note of here before we read on

“I don’t want to become like you” -- I think we can take this as confirmation that Tomura will fight against AFO if and when he realizes he’s being manipulated. his loyalty to him isn’t completely blind. so that could have some potentially huge implications moving forward

this image of Tomura being on the inside of AFO’s body, in what looks to be the same mental landscape from chapter 270, though. ...yeah. just who is really in charge, here

anyway so his next thought on page 11 is “I want to be even greater than you”, echoing Deku (and Kacchan’s) desire to be even greater than All Might, which is yet another nice parallel between them

and he’s basically telling the AFO voice inside him to shut up now, as if it will actually listen

yep. you want to go after One for All for your own deeply personal reasons. not following your master’s whims at all, nope. you are your own man

so now finally Gran is getting in on the action!

no idea why he want after the arm though. as if a broken arm ever stopped anyone in this fucking manga

OOOH NANA NAME DROP

???? um??? your dead grandma??? remember???!! don’t tell me you don’t at least recognize your own fucking last name there?? that is significant and don’t try to tell me otherwise! and in a chapter about you being rebellious and trying to defy AFO’s will, besides!!

holy shit

1. THE GRAN/TOSHINORI FATHER/SON FEELS I WASN’T READY!!, and 2. HOLY SHIT THIS OLD MAN IS RIPPED, THOUGH

AND HERE COMES ENDEAVOR NOW TO RUIN EVERYTHING SOMEHOW, PROBABLY

I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT FACE MEANS BUT IT SURE AS HELL ISN’T A GOOD FACE I CAN TELL YOU THAT

OH NO SOMEHOW DEKU GOT INVOLVED AGAIN LOL

DIDN’T I TELL YOU IT WAS A NEVERENDING LOOP OF A FIGHT. SO NEXT UP IS KACCHAN JOINING IN AND THEN ALMOST DYING AGAIN

OH MY GOD

NEVER. ENDING. LOOP oh god oh god. next time don’t loudly shout “HE’S JUST THE BAIT” before launching your surprise attack you dingus!!

HOLY MOLY

OKAY BUT

I don’t know about you but I am hella impressed that he managed a blast like that without blowing his own fucking arm off

with the exception of that one time he got all excited and tried to vaporize Todoroki during the sports festival, we have almost never seen Katsuki go all out against anyone, and the possibility that we might be about to see it now is THRILLING. I AM THRILLED

NOW WE’RE CUTTING TO ENDEAVOR AND HE’S FLASHING BACK TO THE SHORT SPEECH ALL MIGHT GAVE HIM WAY BACK WHEN ABOUT THEM BEING DIFFERENT AND ABOUT HOW ENDEAVOR SHOULD FIND HIS OWN PATH RATHER THAN TRYING TO BE THE SAME KIND OF SYMBOL AS ALL MIGHT. AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS IS OR WHY IT’S BEING BROUGHT UP NOW BUT OH GOLLY!

(ETA: I guess it might be because Endeavor -- unlike All Might -- isn’t facing Tomura alone but is working together with the kids to do this combo? like it’s a teamwork thing? I don’t really know lol I’ll think on it some more.)

LOL WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING. lol everything is either being exploded or on fire

KFFLSLLK “MEANWHILE”?????

OH NO OH GOD

SIGHING OUT LOUD AGAIN!! not because I’m disappointed to cut away from the Kacchan Loses His Quirk Battle (in due time!!), but because this means that yet again I’m going to have to spend a chapter worrying about Horikoshi killing off one of the TWELVE remaining living female pro hero characters he has, of which one is a healer, another is retired and working as a secretary, yet another only seems to do TV commercials, yet another another currently has... I want to say two limbs?? but I’m not even sure anymore, and lastly two more yet anothers are currently WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN and MAY ALREADY BE DEAD. so if you’re counting, that’s a full HALF of what was already maybe only a fifth of the total pro hero population in general

all of which is to say that IF YOU SO MUCH AS LAY A FINGER ON MT. LADY I WILL FUCKING END YOU HORIKOSHI. we are NOT HAVING THAT. you hear me?? YOU CAN’T SPEND ALL OF YOUR FREE TIME DRAWING MIRKO ALL OVER THE PLACE AND BEING ALL “I FUCKING LOVE GIRL POWER” ONLY TO GO AND BE ALL “OH BUT I KILLED MT. LADY THOUGH WHOOPS”!! DO YOU HEAR ME?? THIS AIN’T IT

sigh. and yet why do I have a very bad feeling about this. hopefully I’m just overreacting. please don’t sully this amazing arc!! MANGA GODS, I OFFER YOU THIS PRAYER

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wormstacheangel · 4 years ago

Note

What are the best episodes with Castiel to watch?

Hello! Sorry, this took me a while to answer but here you go! If I miss some it’s cause I don’t remember anything or I was just Bleh about it.

Castiel Epiosdes

4x01 ICONIC

4x16 ICONIC

4x20 Jimmy is important to Cas and I love him.

4x22 ICONIC Greenroom. Cas picks a side aka Dean.

5x03 Cas and Dean being friends! Gay panic is real my friends.

5x04 THE END. “It's the end, baby. “

5x13 “Sam is my friend.”

5x14 Cupid (He made a cameo video it was cute) and Cas eating raw meat off the floor.

5x16 “You son of a bitch! I believed in-” OWW

5x17 Drunk Cas.

5x18 At this point he’s just done with everything. So he just carves, YES CARVES, an angel banishing sigil into his own chest. He does not hesitate.

Season 6 is good for Cas because the whole time he’s apart of a civil war and is just a terrible liar.

6x06 I am trying not to make this list about Destiel but the scene where Cas pours Dean’s drink.

6x10 Pizza Man.

6x19 Baby in a trenchcoat aka leader of the heaven rebellion but sure Dean. He’s just cute.

6x20 ICONIC

6x21& 22 Both show that Cas is slowly realizing that he is not in control.

7x01 The whole episode is wild but Cas just going to heaven and saying I’m Daddy now really takes the cake. (not the actual words he used.)

7x02 Cas’s death #3?

7x17 MISHA -- OH um, I mean CAS to the rescue lol

7x21 His cute little laugh! Honey!Cas has my heart and soul. Bonus Destiel: “ When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!” RIP Hester Queen

7x23 “Cursed or not.” Also his little smile when he asks for the plan ahh!

aka all episodes in s7 with Cas in it is worth watching.

Okay, I’ll try to control myself now but watch all of s8 cause its beautiful.

8x02 We see Dean’s POV to the purgatory portal scene. Also, hear Cas’s reason for leaving Dean.

8x07 We see Cas’s POV of the purgatory pov scene. Also, learn how Cas escapes purgatory.

8x08 “I’m gonna be a hunter.” He’s so CUTE!

8x10 Cas needs a hug. Please.

8x17 ICONIC. “what broke the connection?” AHH

8x21 Badass Castiel

8x22 & 23 Castiel wants to do good. He wants to help but he just puts his trust in the wrong people. It hurts me so much. Look he’s just a small child and he is dealing with a lot right now.

Season 9 Cas looks good. Like fanservice time father of two!

9x01 First look at human Cas!

9x03 I can’t watch this ending again. It’ll make me spiral. But it’s a good human Cas and destiel episode. Also, fuck April. She gross.

9x06 ICONIC BLESSED jilted lover.

9x09 He looks good.

9x10 “I prefer the word trusting. Less dumb. Less ass.” They are both dumbasses.

9x11 Sam & Cas chaotic vibes

9x14 Cas storyline with the angels starts or at least makes it more clear idk

9x18 Gabriel! Also, “Damn it, Dean!” and Cas accepts his role as a leader. The angels are dumb.

9x22 Sam & Cas dream team lol Also, Cas picks Dean over heaven again.

9x23 “--and for what again? Oh, that's right -- to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right? Well, guess what. He's dead, too.”

10x01 Cas draped across the bed like a victorian lady waiting for her husband to come back from the war

10x03 You know that scene where he’s lying on the floor bloody and dying and the Crowley saves him. And then Cas glows and heals with grace and he’s glaring up at Crowley? You know that scene. Yeah. Bonus: I’m gay and bloody Hannah is also hot. Small tip: Ignore the creepy/gross Hannah and Cas set up the writers are trying to do. They are siblings.

10x09 Claire! That’s his daughter!

10x10 Claire and Cas make me cry.

10x14 Deleted scene of “Maybe he’s your boyfriend.”

10x17 Sam & Cas! They are best friends, you guys!

10x18 Charlie and Cas meet! AND THEY ARE ALL HAPPY AND I CRY

10x20 Claire! Cas get’s her a birthday present, grumpy cat stuffy, and she keeps it! And I cry. And she saves him. And she cares about him.

okay 10x21 cause of Charlie and Cas but also fuck this episode. Charlie deserved better.

10x22 ICONIC gosh damn it. I-

10x23 Just for backstory for Cas in s11. Our poor boy can't catch a break.

I worked on this for two hours now Nonny and I don’t even care. I miss Cas.

Season 11 hurts my damn soul because of Cas. I won’t include Casifer, though it was A LOT of fun to watch him.

11x01 “Dean, did it work?” I wanna hold this poor sad madly in love man.

11x02 I can’t handle the torture. He looks so sad.

11x03 Bless you director, Jensen Ross Ackles.

11x04 Okay, not a lot of Cas but I love this episode.

11x06 They don’t talk about his trauma but they show us a little when he tries to leave the bunker. And I cried. Once again. Let. Me. Hold. Him.

11x10 Ambriel glad you are dead cause you were SO rude. Also, Amara girly, queen, I love you but apologize. Stop being mean to Castiel.

11x22 Cas get’s to talk and that’s nice

11x23 “I can go with you.” Sir, you just came back from being possessed by THEE satan and now you are ready to die by your future husband's side. You need therapy.

Okay, I stopped watching live after season 11 because of the way they treated Cas so these next seasons I binged watched ( a couple of times) but wasn’t apart of the fandom so it feels like I didn’t fully grasp them. But here we go!

12x01 Cas meets his mother-in-law. Also the little, “Dean!” when he hugs him.

12x02 Cas and Mick :)

12x03 Agent Beyonce and Zee lol Cas and Crowley and should have had a sitcom

12x08 Cas gets a text (angel radio) that he’s gonna be a Dad and it looks like when Alice had a vision of the Volturi in Breaking Dawn Part 2 lol

12x09 Let me hug Cas! He’s sad over his family being gone. Also, Mary, I love you but I don’t forgive anybody for being mean to Cas. All the Winchesters are on thin fucking ice with me.

12x10 ICONIC destiel. Cas in a female vessel.

12x12 ICONIC “I love you. I love all of you.”

12x19 Worried husband Dean. Excited soon-to-be father Cas.

12x23 Cas dies (again) from child birth.

Watch the first few episodes of season 13 for the famous widower arc cause wtf they gave us THAT. Also, I don’t care for the other world storyline so I pushed that out of my head.

13x04 Cas annoying a cosmic entity. Fun fact! I dislike the trenchcoat cause it looked so stiff and the color was off idk didn’t look great but Cas looked beautiful when he looks up at the sun! Ah!

13x05 IT’S NOT TOO LATE TO START ALL OVER AGAIN

13x06 ICONIC BROKEBACKNATURAL Also, Jack and Cas meet and I cried damn it. “I missed you.” That’s his son!

13x07 Cas doesn’t put anybody or anything above his baby boy

13x12 Cas has the dumbest husband but at least Cas stabs lucifer. Bet Misha felt good

13x14 Badass Cas. He’s a top. lol

13x16 ICONIC Cas looks...great. Like, watch it. I would do anything for cartoon!cas

13x19Just cause Cas faced someone who tortured him and it’s made to seem like he should get over it and it pisses me off. But Naomi is so cool so idk I like her but would fight her

13x22 Otherworld Cas is there and Cas just kills himself. He needs therapy.

13x23 Cas’s face when Dean says yes. Also, family hunting trip yay

14x01 Dadstiel! Also, Cas looks good.

14x03 Dadstiel.

14x07 Dadstiel. “Losing a son feels different.” And I cry.

14x08 “because I love you Jack. And Sam and Dean--they love you.” THEY DO LOVE HIM AHHHH! Also, Empty deal is made as an excuse for the writers to do something with Cas later.

I just realized season 14 is just Cas trying desperately to keep his family together. He’s trying to take care of them and he has the right words to say to everyone but not much happens besides him wanting to be a family man.

14x14 gay on gay violence lol Also another family hunting trip!

14x15 Fav episode! I just love Sam & Cas’s dumb chaotic energy in this ahaha! They are best friends damn it!

14x18 Cas is trying desperately to keep his family together and he feels responsible for Mary

14x19 Cas should have been allowed to kick Sam and Dean’s dumb flat asses for locking his baby boy in a box.

14x20 AHHH

Divorce arc! All of s15 is great! Except you know...19&20 but we ignore that in this house.

15x03 ICONIC but I will never watch it again

15x06 dude, they really be broken up. Cas kicks ass by himself and he’s fishing and he’s so cute.

15x09 ICONIC Let him talk, Castiel!

15x11 Cas is THEE best Dad and let’s Jack eat hearts

15x13 Just for the family.

15x15 :(

15x17 Cas working to keep his baby boy

15x18 :( I mean at least he’s out but :(

Okay, this took me all day and I had fun! Nobody is gonna read it but who cares cause I just spent my day thinking of Cas when I had a pretty shit day so thanks, Nonnie!

#answering the q's #castiel #cas #episode rec #? idk #but here you go!#Anonymous

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lizzielikeborden · 4 years ago

Text

Just A Stranger

Request: general #17 for diego?

Character: Diego Hargreeves

Prompts: General- #17 “Are you jealous?”

To be completely fair he was unaware of the situation ahead of time. Your whereabouts were completely unknown, if you were dead in a ditch you were gone before he woke up so what you were wearing was also mystery, and unlike usual you did not leave him a little list of things you were going to do. Usually this would be “- work, - grocery store - pharmacy - picking up dinner”. Not such a minor detail as “I’ll be home about 30 minutes later than usual”. Little ref whistles and red flags popped through his head the moment he lifted the note to flip it over to see if maybe you had written more. But, there was nothing, it was completely blank. Diego stared at the note, and kept reading it over trying to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. After doing so he jumped up from where he sat, hitting his knee against the table due to not pulling the chair back enough to get out of the seat properly.

My god where did I hang the clock. He thought to himself as he ran around much too anxious to find anything, including something you made him put up that he dropped on himself multiple times. Once he had finally made a full circle, seeing that the clock was directly above the front door.

Okay wait. She gets off work at 3:30 PM and it’s 4:30PM. He counted on his fingers a little and refocused multiple times just to make sure his math was correct. The second the realized that he was right he dead sprinted out the door.

She has to be in some sort of trouble. His heart raced faster than he ever thought it could. Once he got in the car he did not even think to put on a seatbelt or even completely shut the door. Lead foot Diego took off down the street, went 80mph in a school zone, and almost hit multiple people. In his mind you were already dead, stuck in the trunk of car, getting tortured, or getting harassed. About five minutes into driving he realized he had no idea where you even were. He knew not work, because you did not like to stay after due to horror stories Diego had told you about things that have happened in seemingly empty parking lots. So, he checked the grocery store parking lot and did not see your car. He went past the pharmacy because no cars were anywhere to be found in that tiny little lot. As he went past, he saw what looked to be your car at a nearby gas station.

Mother fucking christ this light could not be any longer. Diego smacked the top of the steering wall with both hands as hard as he could. The light seemed to be red for ages. It was so long that he could tell you were not in your car, nor at the pump next to the gas tank. The light turned green and luckily he was in the front or a fun game of bumper cars and trade insurances would have happened. His tires squealed as he made an incredibly sharp turn into the parking lot.

That’s her car. Where the hell is she? He read your license plate and looked around the pump, you were no where to be seen. Diego parked his car and grabbed knives from the middle consul. He hid them from direct public view and stepped inside. Detective police officer vigilante Diego was on the loose now. He was looking everyone up and down. A few shady characters were present, but none were walking toward your car or a car big enough or in good enough shape to have a human hidden inside.

Diego walked up the counter and stood for a moment, gathered his words to make sure he wouldn’t stutter, and then spoke “Hey man, you seen a (description of you) looking woman inside?”

“Yeah, she came in to pay for gas and then this other dude came in. He was having issues with is gas so she went out to go help him.” The man behind the counter pointed at the gas tank next to yours where the car once was. “She left with him.”

Diego’s blood boiled, not just out of anger, but with hints of anxiety. Why the hell would she get in a car with a strange man? They must know each other. No wonder I got such a short note. He stormed out the gas station and slammed the door. The bell that hung over top hit the glass and broke a small section. She’ll come back for her car. And I will be here when she does. He sat parked and tapped his foot and left hand vigorously.

15 minutes later

Diego’s anger was no where near settled. In fact the longer time went on the angrier he was becoming. His mind was running in circles around the same terrible thoughts. The cashier did not give a description of the vehicle but the moment the little blue sports car pulled in Diego’s instincts picked up. His suspicions were confirmed when you stepped out of the car and waved at the man who did not step out.

Oh fuck no. Diego got out of his car and stepped directly in front of the little sports car. It tried to maneuver around him but he had other plans, taking out a knife he ran and rolled across the ground. The blade cut straight through the tire like butter. The car spun and came to a halt.

“Diego?!” You ran over to the man now on his feet, you put a hand on his shoulder and he jumped a bit. Harshly he turned toward you.

“Y/N, what a pleasant surprise! I would never expect to see you here at the most shady ass gas station in a car with another man after leaving a vague mother fucking note.”

Your eyes came out of your head, you did not expect this, or any of that day to happen. No words were forming as a very very angry Diego stood in front of you. So, you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind,

“Are you jealous?” You could see in Diego’s eyes that out of every single sentence, phrase, or word you could’ve said those were the wrong ones.

“Jealous? Should I be?” He took a step back instead of anger he seemed more upset.

“No of course not. He’s a total stranger.” Diego’s mouth hung open, his eyes popped out of his skull, eyebrows furrowed. and his head was tilted.

“YOU GOT INTO A VEHICLE WITH A COMPLETE STRANGER? AND THEN LEFT WITH THE STRANGER?” He yelled in frustrating and swung his arms around.

“Excuse me bu-” The so called stranger you were with stepped out of his car but did not get a full sentence out before being shut down by Diego,

“You have two choices, fuck off, or more than just that tire will be slashed.” Diego did not even have to turn around to intimidate him before he ran back to his car and called someone to come get him. “Now back to you. What in the hell were you thinking?” His tone did not change but his demeanor did, he was much quieter and a bit calmer.

“Well. I have been running late all day. I actually did not have a plan, so I assumed 30 minutes late was already how far behind I was. I just assumed my day would be about 30 minutes behind. Once I got about here I realized how low my gas was so I decided to get some, and that guy was having horrible trouble. So I stayed and helped him pump his gas but it wouldn’t work, I offered to help him again and we went to the gas station up the street.” You explained.

“You cannot be helping grown adult men or getting in cars with them. Hell any strangers for that matter. I know you think you are oh so capable but in real situations people tend to become a whole lot less capable.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, still keeping some distance between the two of you. You couldn’t really argue with him. You had never been in any situation like that so you couldn’t prove him wrong. Statistically he was correct. You gently pulled for him to come closer. He did so.

“Thank you for being protective and cautious. You just care, more than normal, but you care. I shouldn’t have done that. But Mr. Vigilante you should not have slashed that poor mans tire.”

“You need to be happy I didn’t slash his thro-.”

“No no, we do not need to work you back up.” You put a hand on his cheek and made him look at you, you shook your head at him.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He smiled and leaned down, he matched your action and placed a hand across your cheek and kissed you softly.

You gave it a moment and pulled back, “I could ask you the same thing.”

You took your keys from you pocket and started to walk back to your car.

“I will be following closely behind you the entire way home. Do not test me.” Diego commented as he wandered back to his car.

You smiled and took off faster than him down the street. You were gonna be the death of him...

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves x you #diego x reader #The Umbrealla Academy #umbrella acedmy #the umbrella academy

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sirfrogsworth · 5 years ago

Photo

Alec Goddamn Baldwin posted this to 1.4 million followers.

Oh bullshit, let me count the red flags.

First red flag... the right side is cut off and you can’t even read it all. I realize you can make it out with context clues, but if you believe you are trying to spread important medical info about a pandemic, maybe make sure all the damn words are visible.

I mean, what drunkard screencapped this?

Oh.

Well, good luck with those wine tariffs, Suzanne.

Thankfully I found a non-cropped version that is just blurry instead. Let’s see what other red flags it contains.

Second red flag? “A Japanese doctor.”

No name. No credentials. Just some doctor in Japan somewhere. Are they implying Japanese doctors are smarter or more competent? Are they implying he has some ancient samurai medical wisdom?

Red flag the third... What is a lung hospital? And is that where you are supposed to go when you get a viral infection? Wouldn’t a virus hospital be better?

Now we’re done with the Japanese doctor for a bit and have moved on to “Taiwanese experts” for our fourth red flag. Apparently, if you hold your breath for 10 seconds you can rule out infection. No need for a fancy test, just stop breathing! Plus, you might even cure your hiccups.

Okay, back to the non-descript Japanese physician. He provides the “best advice” which is red flag number 5. The best advice is already out there. It was released by the CDC and WHO. The best advice would not be some low-key secret only a rando Japanese doctor would know.

But let us look at this best advice for red flag number 6.

“Everyone should make sure the mouth and throat are always moist.”

That’s a red flag purely because I hate the word moist and wish people would stop using it.

“Drink some water every 15 minutes. Why not?”

That’s not terrible or anything. It’s the added “Why not?” that adds a 7th red flag. Can you imagine if doctors tried to convince people to take vaccines by saying, “Take all your shots. Why not?”

And then we get to the real bullshit. The ultimate red flag. The red flag larger than all the others combined.

Apparently, if you drink the virus, your tummy will kill it.

Because acid, I guess.

What if the virus enters through the nose? Should you drink through your nose every 15 minutes? And wouldn’t better advice be about keeping the virus out of your damn mouth in the first place? Ya know, wash your hands, stay away from crowded places, cough in your arm.

How is “Drink that damn virus right down and KILL THAT FUCKER WITH ACID” the “best advice”?

So... now that we have determined this is bullshit, how do we counteract this shitty viral post about a virus?

What is the best solution to quash this disinformation helped along by a glorified Donald Trump impersonator?

I say we fight fire with fire.

I have created my own shitty screencap for everyone to spread.

Sorry, I was hitting the wine pretty hard when I capped that.

It was box wine because that bottled stuff is too pricey. Probably because of tariffs.

You know what, I’ll just copy and paste the actual text.

“Drinking more water, while good for your overall health, will not keep anyone from catching the coronavirus, according to Dr. William Schaffner, an infectious diseases expert at Vanderbilt University. Schaffner told The Associated Press, “We always caution anyone healthy and people who are sick to keep up fluid intake and keep mucus membranes moist.” He also said: “It makes you feel better; there is no clear indication that it directly protects you against complications.”

--Snopes

Let’s look at the difference. We have an actual doctor’s name that we can look up. We know where he works, which we can also look up. We have a direct quote that can be verified. And there is even a link to the Snopes page for you to read more and check sources. No red flags. No mention of going to the lung hospital.

Though I am deducting points for the gross but alliterative “keep mucus membranes moist” which is just about the worst sentence in the history of sentences.

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fruitquake · 5 years ago

Note

listen. idk what your headcanons for reg are,,, but,,,, aroace reg coming out to sirius?? brotherly feels??? if you don't vibe with that just bless me with those two brothers, i need to see them hug

mate, i literally love this prompt. here, i hope you like this and that it gives u all the black brother feels <3

hope it’s okay i made this a muggle au, they’re just what i do best lol

(also: at first sirius is quite ignorant but pls read the whole thing before judging)

Regulus’ heart was beating like a hummingbird’s as he raised his hand and knocked on the door to his brother's room.

“What do you want?”

Sirius no doubt knew it was him. Their parents never knocked.

Regulus opened the door, struggling to control his breathing. “Uhm… Sirius?”

Sirius was sitting on his bed, laptop in front of him. He rolled his eyes when Regulus entered.

“Hang on, guys,” he said to the computer screen. Regulus recognized the faces on the screen as Sirius’ friends: James, Remus, and Peter. He took out his headphones and finally looked at Regulus. “This better be important.”

“It is!” Regulus said. It was important. If Sirius knew how much courage it had taken to come in there in the first place, a kind of courage he likely wouldn’t be able to muster again, he would understand the importance. “Please, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Sirius sighed, turning towards his computer again. For a moment, Regulus thought he was being given the cold shoulder, but then Sirius said to his friends: “Gotta go.”

He hung up and closed the computer, then looked back at Regulus, eyes softening as he noticed how nervous he was. “Everything alright, Reg?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Regulus answered in a shaky voice. Why was he so nervous? Surely, he didn’t have to worry about Sirius not accepting him, when Sirius himself understood what it was like to be… different.

Sirius himself hadn’t gotten the luxury of coming out on his own terms. Regulus had found out about him and Remus last summer, despite Sirius’ attempts at hiding their relationship. At first, it had been difficult to look at his brother the same: Their parents’ bigoted views had gotten to him, however much he tried to deny it. But over the course of the year, he’d gotten so much better, and then… Well, he’d started to realize he wasn’t “normal”, as their parents put it, either.

He’d thought he was gay at first. It was the only other option he knew and if he didn’t fancy girls, he had to be gay right? He’d ignored the fact that he didn’t fancy guys either, constantly telling himself that it would come eventually. But then he’d discovered the term “Aromantic”, and everything had made sense.

“Come on, Reg,” Sirius said, gesturing for him to sit down on the bed. “Tell me what’s up.”

Regulus sat next to him. He wasn’t scared to tell Sirius anymore. He was ready. “I'm asexual,” he told him. “And aromantic.”

The blank look in Sirius’ eyes was hard to read. “Sorry, what’s that?” he asked after a moment.

“Well,” Regulus said. “You like boys. Some people like girls, and some again like both…”

“Very well observed, Reg.”

“And I,” Regulus told him. “I don’t like anyone. At least not in that way.”

Sirius stared for a moment, then he shook his head. “That’s not a thing,” he said. “You can’t just not like anyone.”

“No, it is a real-”

“Maybe you’re gay,” Sirius interrupted him. “Trust me, at first I was confused, too, as to why I didn’t like girls.”

Regulus wanted to cry. His own brother didn’t believe him. “I’m not gay,” he said.

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay!”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

Sirius was taken aback by the sudden raise of Regulus’ voice. He’d tried to hold the tears back but there they were, pooling up in his eyes and slowly rolling down his cheeks.

He managed to catch Sirius’ shocked expression before turning around to leave. Before he shut the door, he briefly turned around to look at Sirius. “I thought you of all people would understand.”

My love <3: everything alright? we haven’t heard from u all evening and u usually never stop spamming the groupchat

Sirius looked at the text from Remus, thinking about a good response.

Sirius: Dw I’m fine. Just had a bit of an argument with Reg

He bit down on his lower lip. To call it an argument wasn’t entirely fair. He quickly added another message:

Sirius: I think i might have fucked up

My love <3: how so?

Sirius: Well, it’s kinda hard to explain in text. Can I call you?

My love <3: ofc

Remus picked up after the second ring. “Hey,” he said. “What’s going on?”

Sirius hesitated, before asking: “Have you heard the word “aromantic” before?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well,” Sirius mumbled. “Reg told me he was aromantic. And... asexual? But… That’s not a real thing, is it?” he asked.

“Yes, Sirius, it is a real thing.”

Oh… “Shit,” he whispered, the image of Regulus running out of his room with tears in his eyes playing in his head again. “I definitely fucked up.”

“You told Regulus it wasn’t real?” Remus asked.

Sirius sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I… Yeah.” He wanted to try and defend himself but did he really deserve that? “I’m a terrible brother,” he mumbled.

“Well, it was definitely not okay for you to invalidate his identity like that,” Remus said. “But it doesn’t make you a terrible brother. I know how much you care about him, Sirius. You just need to make it up to him and, most importantly, let him know you support him.”

Sirius nodded. “Right,” he said. “Yeah, you’re right, babe. I need to do that.”

The music from Regulus’ headphones was so loud he barely heard the knock on his door. He paused the music and sat up in bed, unsure if he’d really heard anything.

He heard the next set of knocks quite clearly, though, and his brother’s voice which followed them. “Hey, can I come in?”

Regulus thought back to his conversation with Sirius yesterday. That’s not a thing. You can’t just not like anyone.

“No,” he answered. “Leave me alone.”

“Reg, please,” Sirius said. “I have something for you!”

“Go away.”

There was a pause, and Regulus thought Sirius might’ve left, but after a while he said: “I’ll just slide it under the door, then.”

Regulus turned on his music again and turned away from the door, but he still saw the piece of paper sliding through the small space underneath the door. He didn’t care. Whatever it was, he didn’t want it.

The song ended and a new one began, the loud bass drowning out the world. But it couldn’t silence his curiosity…

He glared at the piece of paper on the floor, before finally giving in and picking it up.

His heart caught in his throat. It looked like a handmade card of sorts. In the middle, Sirius had drawn a heart, one side in the colours of the asexual flag, the other coloured like the aromantic one. Above the heart he’d written, in pretty cursive letters: “Sorry,” and underneath: “I was a dick.” The “was” has been scratched out and replaced with “am”.

Regulus teared up, but this time they were tears of joy, as he rushed out the door. He almost collided with Sirius, who was still standing in the hallway. He glanced nervously at Regulus.

“I know this doesn’t make things right,” Sirius said. “But… I hope it counts for something.”

Regulus nodded, looking down at the card still clutched in his hands. It was clear that a lot of effort had been put into it.

Sirius put his hand on Regulus’ shoulder and he looked back up at him. There was a sincere look in his eyes, something Regulus had never seen from him before.

“I’m sorry I was so ignorant, and so quick to judge,” Sirius said. “That’s exactly how people treat me for my sexuality, so… I really should’ve known better. I’m sorry.”

Regulus bit down on his lower lip. He wasn’t going to cry in front of his brother again; it was embarrassing enough the first time.

“I just want you to know,” Sirius said, “That you have my full support, Reg. I… Yesterday, after our conversation, I spent hours doing research and I found out some really interesting things. Did you know sexuality is a whole spectrum?” His eyes glistened with excitement. “Like, asexuality and aromanticism are even spectrums of themselves! Isn’t that cool?”

Regulus couldn’t help but grin. He was having trouble concealing his own excitement. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s cool, Sirius.”

Before he even realized what was happening, Sirius pulled him into a hug. A real, warm, brotherly hug. Regulus couldn’t remember ever being hugged like that before. He didn’t quite know how to feel about it.

“Y’know,” he said, arms hanging awkwardly in the air as he wasn’t sure where to put them. “I really appreciate your support, but this is kinda weird. We never hug.”

That only made Sirius hug him tighter. “We do now,” he said. “C’mon, just roll with it, you’re ruining the moment.

Slowly, Regulus returned the hug. It actually, strangely, felt… Good? “Thank you,” he mumbled, feeling safer and more loved than he remembered ever feeling before.

Sirius chuckled. “We should do this more often.”

#aaaaaaa i rly hope you like this #sirius black #regulus black #aroace regulus black #the black brothers #the marauders era #wolfstar #muggle au

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nazyalenskyism · 4 years ago

Text

Sankt Nikolai Day

Summary: Sankt Nikolai's day is celebrated on the darkest day of the year, and so the king and his friends have a little celebration of their own this year. ❤️❤️ A/N: Just a holiday Zoyalai fic! I hope you enjoy! “No!” Genya exclaimed, batting Zoya’s hand away from the tray at the center of the table, “this one’s so much better.” Zoya stared at the snowflake shaped pastry that she was trying to grab as Genya placed a glimmering dessert on her plate. It was a soft golden yellow colour, complete with gilded edges, a beautifully crafted star. She shot Nikolai a look across the table, he’d ordered all the dishes served tonight, it had to be intentional, but she was the only one who knew about the star-shaped scar that sat directly atop his heart, a result of his ordeal in the fold. His eyes flicked upwards and he caught her gaze, shooting her a coy wink before turning back to his heated conversation with Tolya about how best to prank Tamar or something along those lines.

What did the pastry mean, did it mean anything? Was she simply reading into something that wasn't there? She shook her head, looking back to her plate, he was even more insufferable tonight than usual, and she couldn’t figure out why. The whole day had been spent at bonfires, a banquet luncheon, sledding, all leading to this private dinner in Nikolai’s chambers with just the seven of them, maybe he was simply unburdened today. Either way as insufferable as he was, it was nice to see him happy. It wasn’t like he truly showed how stressed he was, but she could always feel it. It was a consequence of all the time they spent together, she would be doing a bad job if she didn’t know him as well as the back of her own hand, and Zoya refused to do anything poorly. There had been a few moments today though where she felt like he was acting even more different than usual, the looks he’d given her were puzzling to say the least. After dinner they sank to the floor around the fire where they passed around drinks and stories that they rarely shared. Flushed with liquor and contentment, they moved on to yet another tradition of Sankt Nikolai’s day, the swapping of presents. Genya and David had gifted him a pair of fur-lined boots, Tamar and Nadia had given him a red wool coat, and Tolya a pair of woolen gloves, all the gifts Sankt Nikolai had received in the old saint story. They’d also presented him with bottles of cherry wine from that street rat’s club in Ketterdam, something he apparently enjoyed, but when a goblet had been passed to Zoya, she had to admit that it wasn’t terrible, it was actually quite good.

As her turn drew closer, Zoya toyed with beading at her cuffs, she was starting to doubt her gift again. Her gift to Nikolai would be the last one opened tonight, and she worried that maybe it was too bold . She wasn’t sentimental, but she wanted to express her thanks to him. A thank you for the peace, the quiet, the companionship for the last three years, and since she couldn’t say it she wanted her gift to communicate it. But as it got closer and closer to the time Nikolai would open her gift she felt more nervous, a feeling that was very uncharacteristic for her. And that wasn’t even the only thing bugging her. When it was time for the king to present his gift to her, he just smiled innocently and said, “Nazyalensky’s gift isn’t ready yet, she’ll get it later.” What was that supposed to mean? . Maybe she should do the same, and just pretend that she didn’t bring it to their little party-- but no, that would never work, it was clearly sitting in the middle of their little circle. “Thank you, Tolya,” Nikolai said, his eyes glinting as he embraced his friend with one arm. At his feet lay a bound volume of poetry maybe, but it had Nikolai’s name on the cover. “Wait,” she gasped, diving over Genya to scoop up the big book, “is this your poetry?”“Nazyalensky, give it back.” Zoya shot him a look in response and he sank back, “fine, you can read one, just ONE.” She pushed her shoulders back, channeling her inner Nikolai, in all his theatrical glory. “This one is called--”“Not out-loud!” “Think of this as my gift, since you clearly forgot mine.”=“I didn’t forget your gift, it’s just not ready yet.” “That sounds exactly like what someone who didn’t get me a gift would say!” He scrubbed a hand over his face, “fine. You can read one. Just one, commander.” Tamar let out a sharp laugh, “I can’t wait to hear this.” Zoya cleared her throat, “it’s called, ‘the harpy...’ really your highness?” At the cheering of Genya and a very tipsy David and Tamar, she continued, ignoring Nikolai’s pointed eye roll. “floodlit break of day a perfect, warm beauty fills pushing away the dark a brilliant ocean a royal, sharp blue invites calling to the eyes twinkling nighttime a radiant kiss softly against the fingers” ”Zoya frowned, “this wasn’t as bad as I was expecting. What is it supposed to be about?” “Are you kidding me?” Nadia blurted out, “Zoya mmfmfm--” Tamar’s hand clamped over her mouth, keeping her from hearing the rest of Nadia’s sentence. “What?” “Oh Zoya, maybe you’ll get it one day,” Genya laughed, throwing an arm around Tolya, “try to work it out tonight. And with that, we need to get to bed, goodnight!” And with a flourished bow, she and the others had collected their gifts and closed the door behind them, leaving her and Nikolai alone, his poetry book still in her hands. She swapped it for the gift box she’d wrapped earlier in the day, the idea of presenting the items in it to him still making her stomach flutter. “Here,” Zoya thrust the package at his chest, spinning on her heel and tailing towards the door. She didn’t want to stick around and see his reaction, giving him a gift had been embarrassing enough for this lifetime.“Nazyalensky, wait,” warm, calloused fingers grasped at her wrist turning her back around. Nikolai had a strange look on his face, he looked a little confused, a little amused and a little exasperated all at once. “You haven’t gotten your present yet.” “Wasn’t the poem my gift? We have lots to do in the morning and I have to get to sleep.” She tried to tug free, but the king’s grip was like iron. “You know it wasn’t, and no, we don’t. Sit.” She sighed indignantly, strutting over to the armchairs before the fire, her back as straight as a rod, every muscle in her body tense. She really didn’t want to be here for this. Zoya hadn’t put this much consideration into a gift since she’d bought things for Liliyana, and it felt like she was exposing some innermost part of herself by doing it, she could only hope that Nikolai wouldn’t realize just how much time she put into putting the present together. Nikolai settled into the chair beside her, slipping something under it before she could discern what it was. Odd. “Your wrapping skills are a seven, good, but clearly not as good as mine.” “A seven ? As if. My skills are a ten, and even if you have absolutely no taste, you would know that they’re at least a nine and a half.” “Fine. A seven and a half.” “A nine and a half, take it or leave it.” “Whatever you say, commander.” His nimble fingers carefully pulled the paper apart at the seams, and Zoya waited with bated breath. This was a mistake, “Nikolai--”“Oh,” he said softly, holding up the miniature to the light from the fire, “oh.” His fingers trailed over the blonde hair of his mother’s portrait, tracing the golden hair that matched his. “Oh,” he turned his face away from her for a second, quickly scrubbing a hand over his features before he turned back to the box in his lap. ‘Oh indeed.’ Next he pulled out a framed piece of fabric, the flag with a red hound that had flown on his boat-- the Volkvolny. Thumbing the fabric, thoughtfully, he turned to her, “how did you get this?” “I can’t reveal my secrets,” she replied, nodding at the box again, “there’s more.” She wasn’t about to tell him how enamored she’d been by the ride on his ship to Kerch, how it’d reminded her of what Liliyana used to tell her on their journey to the little palace. How she was surprised by his abilities as a captain, and how she’d enjoyed the trip so much, she’d charmed the crew into giving her the flag as a memento. Not tonight. “More? You’re spoiling me Nazyalensky.”“Just get it over with.” When Nikolai turned back to the box, Zoya quickly made her way to the door, scooping up the real present from Tolya’s arms before quietly closing the door behind her. “Zoya, is this meant to fit me?” He held up a small loop of ribbon threaded through a delicate bell. “Well,” she began, holding the squirming kitten out towards him… "if you don’t want her, Tolya said he would take her.” Nikolai blanched for a moment, and Zoya felt her heart stop again, what was he going to say? But then, he was lifting the cat into his own arms, “does she have a name?” Zoya blanched, wasn’t the person whose cat it was supposed to come up with the name? “I can’t do everything for you, your highness.” “Any suggestions?” “You can name her if you take her.” “Of course I’m taking her, Nazyalensky.” He rolled his eyes at her, setting the kitten on the floor where she curled up at his feet. “But why a cat?” She shrugged, “cats have nine lives, they always find a way to stay on their feet, they’re excellent at keeping their balance, and they’re aloof, and you seem to have experience in dealing with aloof personalities.” Zoya clasped her hands together as she slumped back in her chair, “not to mention that you seemed a little bit lonely-- you know, given with the broken engagement and all.” “I think I’ll name her Lisa.” “You want to name your cat… fox?” “Yes.”“Well, if that’s all,” she began to stand. “Wait, we haven’t done your gifts yet,” Nikolai protested, “I promise I got you something.” He reached under his seat and pulled out a perfectly wrapped rectangular box, placing it gently in her hands. “I don’t want to overstep, but I hope you’ll at least think about the things in here.” She arched a brow at him, but he was quiet while she pulled the paper apart. “Are these my beads, from my keftas?”“You drop them more often than you’d think.” She turned the clip over in her hands, the silver sparkled in the light, and with it’s curved pattern it reminded her of illustrations of a gust of wind, fine lines of sapphire stones intertwined with silver beads. Zoya let out a startled laugh, her fingers pressing into the beads, she hadn’t received something as personal as this in a very, very long time, and here she was taken aback by a pin of all things. “May I?” Nikolai asked, holding out his hand expectantly. When the confused look stayed on her face, he leaned forward and plucked the clip from her hands. Before she could protest however he was directly before her, his fingers brushing back her hair. Zoya wasn’t thinking anymore, hell she wasn’t sure if she was even breathing anymore. All she could feel was Nikolai’s hands against her hair, pushing her hair back, the barest warmth from his breath by her ear, the determination in his bright eyes. “There,” he whispered as the clip clicked into place, but he made no move back to his seat. Instead his hand trailed slowly downwards, resting at her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered against her will, and it took everything in her to stop herself from shuddering. Nikolai’s thumb grazed her cheekbone, and the next thing she knew, his lips were pressed against hers. Zoya reacted instantly, her fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer. Saints, she hadn’t realized how badly she’d wanted this, she was barely known she wanted it at all, but in this moment she couldn’t remember wanting anything but this. She leaned in against his touch, her forehead resting against his when they broke apart. “Zoya?” “Hm?”“There’s more inside the box.” She let out a little sigh, her head still spinning, the enormity of her actions still not sinking in quite yet. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was her own way of surrendering to this feeling, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care either way, she had wanted to kiss him, and so she had. And now, she wanted to do it again. “Nikolai, this is a piece of paper.” “A piece of paper with words on it.” “The harpy…” she hesitated for a second, letting the words wash over her. “That poem was about me?” “Yes, Nazyalensky.” “And the mornings and nights-- those parts were about me locking you in at night and coming to unlock you in the mornings?” “Yes, Nazyalensky.” His fingers threaded with hers and she settled her head against his shoulder, leaning into his embrace, “what did the star pastry mean?” “It didn’t mean anything, I was only trying to see how oblivious you were.” “Take that back,” she threatened, jabbing a finger at him, “I am not oblivious.” “Fine,” he amended, raising his hand in mock surrender, “not oblivious, just too scared to admit how much you actually liked me.”

“I’ve never liked you,” she scoffed, “I’ve been tolerating you for years, there’s a difference.” “So when you kissed me, that was you tolerating me?” “You kissed me!” “Hmm sure, dear.” Zoya huffed at this, grabbing at his collar with one hand and pulling him in for a kiss. “Will that shut you up?” “No, but you can keep trying.” “Fine, I will,” and she did.

#zoyalai #zoyalai fic #kos #kos fic #nikolai x zoya

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