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safespacespence · 3 years

Text

growing together

[summary] as a plant-obsessed person, you find it intriguing and take it upon yourself to finally strike a conversation with the man living across from you--when you spot him bringing in a couple of plants into his apartment. [pairing] spencer reid + gn!reader [warnings] implications of maeve and spencer's depression, please let me know if there's anything else [category] fluff with angst, hurt/comfort, strangers, pining [word count] 3.7k

[a/n] i'll leave another author's note at the end, but just a few mentions; this concept came to me when someone suggested the headcanon that spencer has houseplants. but i don't know where it even came from if it was in my ask or in my taglist, so if it's you, please let me know! this is the longest i've written and one that has so much meaning behind everything, so i'm very very proud of myself for this. thank you to @reidselle for being such a kind beta, and of course to @writer-in-theory and @angstyalex for listening to me talk about this and hyping me up <33 masterlist

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST! you may need to change the song faster/slower depending on your reading speed, but this really completes the reading experience :)

you could hear inconsistent thudding, dragging against the floor, and the huffs and pants of a man out in the hallway. nosily, you took one look through the peephole, finding your curly-haired neighbor entering the door across from yours, dragging three pots of plants behind him—the view blurring into a cloud of green and light.

you never met the neighbor across from you. you only heard his door opening and closing at the oddest of hours and the constant shuffle of the feet of people delivering food to his doorstep. that was really about it.

so to see him dragging large potted plants into his apartment, you couldn’t help but laugh, especially when you stared at your living room, which was bursting with color and life. croton, dracaena, and golden pothos stuck out of a corner, crawling towards the window where the light perfectly streamed in, feeding all of the plants scattered around the room.

plant obsession was an understatement.

anyways, the mystery of the man across was rather fascinating. you knew he was an fbi agent, as told by your gossip-y landlord. your landlord did also mention that he was rather nerdy, but in a cute way. (you didn’t know how to take that statement, because she was fairly old.) you pondered at the thought of him, the mystery intriguing you. maybe the plants were a sign from the universe to finally say hi; get to know him a little bit.

you tiptoed around the living room, being careful not to step on overflowing leaves or slip on any fallen petal. you needed to find the right one to give, to send the right message.

ah, there it is.

you picked up the little white pot and checked the plant, making sure it looked neat enough to give. picking up some scratch paper, you scribbled a kind note.

----- saw you’re giving plants a shot. i’m not a stalker, i promise. try this one out, it’s pretty low-maintenance and just very easy to have around. yours truly, a fellow plant-obsessed neighbor in 204 :) -----

you read and reread the piece of paper, flicking the corner until it accidentally creased, and finally took a breath. you peered outside, checking if anyone was around, and approached his door. you left the note tucked under the small pot, and slipped right back into your apartment. you checked through the peephole, curious; a part of you wanting to watch his reaction as he found your offering. you rolled your eyes and stepped away, not wanting to obsess over it.

and as soon as you did, spencer opened his door, looking down and finding your thoughtful gift. he smiled to himself as he quickly read and reread, his eyes sprinting through the words. he looked up at the same brown door he’s looked at every morning and night, and imagined an apartment protruding with green and pink and yellows, the small space invaded by dozens of plants. and he looked back down at the plant you gave, it fitting snugly in his hands, and he held in laughter. it was the perfect plant to start off with, the perfect beginner’s introduction to houseplants.

a succulent.

☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎

spencer returned into his apartment, looking at the three, very daunting plants facing him. there was a clear disparity from what he had just received, the succulent looking at him so innocently. he held in laughter and sat down, bringing out books from his satchel, freshly borrowed from a library. he flipped the pages, bookmarking information on each of the plants he bought, and the one that was gifted. he looked once more at the door, thinking of a way to thank his neighbor.

the next time you did exit your apartment, you were greeted by an envelope at your doorstep. you found scratchy, inconsistent, handwriting on a piece of coffee-tinted stationary.

----- thank you for the succulent! i owe you a plant in return. if you could help me figure out this whole houseplant thing, i’d be eternally grateful. best, spencer reid, the guy from 203 -----

you giggled, now knowing his name. you repeated it internally, whispering it, pronouncing each of the consonants as crisply as you could. spencer. reid.

it rolled off your tongue so easily, you found yourself reiterating it involuntarily. you zoned out, replaying the pronunciation, to the point saying it once more would elicit laughter.

you didn’t think much of it again other than the instances you saw his letter attached to your refrigerator. he seemed like a very friendly man, but he definitely was not around enough for you to ‘accidentally’ bump into him. you did try—you waited to hear a sound come from his door, and timed yourself to take out your trash at that time (even if it wasn’t full yet). but, his door was silent, the man behind it even moreso.

and then, you found a pot of beautiful ponytail palm at your feet one morning. your eyes lit up, its thin, curly, stringy leaves sticking out, tickling your legs as soon as you opened your door. of course, another note was attached.

----- dear 204, i read that this is an easy to grow plant, as long as it’s in a warm bright spot. you’ll probably find that easy to come by :) best, spencer reid -----

the ponytail palm was one you used to own. it was rugged, but truly speaking, so easy to take care of. it didn’t ask for much. just sunlight and a small amount of water. it grew slowly but steadily.

you brought it in, placing it next to the majesty palm by the window. you sighed, thinking about mysterious 203, about how he had the time to buy you a plant in return, but for some reason you never saw him. you collapsed on the couch, looking at all of the plants decorating your apartment, its life and color filling the secret, well-kept void.

☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎

as time went by, more plants were exchanged with spencer reid. along with notes, of course.

you gave him asparagus fern—letting him know that it was a plant that withstood abuse much better than typical ferns. it wasn’t as fragile, it could be in both light and dark corners.

he responded with albuca frizzle sizzle. it was a quirky, curly plant. his note was even quirkier; “only bought it cause it looked different.” more palms, philodendrons, snake plants, pothos, aloe, and ivy alternately graced both of your doorsteps, filling your apartment with more life than you expected to ever fill it. it was an extra dent in your monthly budget, but it was too much fun, looking forward to seeing what he would give in return.

and reading his notes was another thing to look forward to, too. never failing to make your week, the notes detailed research on the plant he dropped off, sometimes giving you updates on the previous plants you gave him. it was a joy to read; you’d plop on the couch and read and reread it, sometimes running your fingers over the indentation the ballpen had left on the delicate paper. you thought about how he had touched it, how he had likely scanned his eyes over the paper again and again before finally leaving it in front of your door.

did he want to stay hidden?

you were technically in correspondence for weeks now, but you couldn’t help but think about what he looked like. you had only really seen the back of his curly head of hair, your brain creating puzzle pieces to fill in the idea of a person.

and then, another puzzle piece had fit in. he called.

“hello?” you answered, your voice treading gently. “hi,” the voice was kind, nervous, almost. “i got your phone number from the landlord, i hope that’s okay.” “i’m sorry, who is this?” “right! uh-this is spencer, spencer reid.”

there was a relief in knowing that the name you had been reading for months was now a voice. hearing him say his own name after being confined to reading it for months was as satisfying as an exhalation after a long hold. this voice. this sweet, kind voice. it was him. you replayed the image of the man with curly hair entering his apartment carrying plants in, and overlaid the voice on the phone.

“oh, yes, hello!” you tried not to sound too excited. “it’s nice to finally hear your voice,” he chuckled. “oh, you too, you have no idea. um, what’s up, is everything okay?” “yeah, great, actually. i just hope this isn’t too much to ask—” his voice wavered. you were eager to meet him. “not at all! how can i help?” “i’m going to be gone for about a week and a half for work and to visit family, and i was wondering if you could possibly water my plants while i’m out?”

you held the jaw-drop in, and calmly said, “oh, sure!”

you weren’t going to meet him, unfortunately.

“really? thank you so much, i seriously owe you a huge favor after this. i’ll leave another plant out for you, and the key will be in the planter.” you nodded, a little disappointed, wanting a face-to-face handoff. “sure, no problem.”

“great, i’ll drop it when i can. thanks again!” he quickly hung up.

you slumped onto the couch, releasing an exasperated sigh. was everything just in your head?

regardless, you kept your promise. you picked up the key he left behind, and the note that had his scribbled instructions. his handwriting was just as scratchy, but you were used to it. the words went through your eyes, and you instead focused on the person who wrote it. his letters were kept on the coffee table, for when you were bored and curious, hoping to find remnants of his soul weaved into his writing. you just yearned to know him.

you put the key in, a distinct and successful click ringing in the hallway. as the door swung open, you were greeted by an apartment that was littered with things that were so distinctly him. a chess set, a few framed artworks on the walls, and books. more books than a man needed to have. the browns of the space were distinct from the green life pouring into the room. there were large palms, pothos, ferns, and perennials growing in all directions. it was almost like a completely different person had suddenly moved in.

you followed his instructions, finding a small and simple water can by the kitchen sink. you moved around the apartment systematically, watering each of the planters. you tried not to snoop, but you couldn’t help it. you looked at his books on the shelves, noting the broad range of his interests; from mathematics and physics in molecular biology, to sci-fi literature. although some books looked barely touched due to their smooth spines, you noticed that the pages had already browned at its edges. there wasn’t an order to his bookshelf that you could find or figure out, either. more questions swam in your mind; your puzzle becoming more complex by the minute.

this went on for days. as you consistently let yourself into his apartment, you saw more of his quirks, and scrutinized every bit of it—grasping at straws, desperate to understand the man you felt so connected to. most of the plants that filled the room were the ones you had given him, and they were kept exceptionally well. the plants only helped create an atmosphere that made you feel so easily at home. on some days, you found yourself entering early, or ‘checking on the plants’ even though they had no reason to be checked.

because even if you barely knew spencer reid, a part of you found yourself connected to his soul—even if they were only pieces.

you found yourself getting carried away rather frequently, because his apartment felt like an extension of yours. you would admire his side of the view, running your fingers through the spines of the books on the bookshelves, feeling the fluff of the rug under your feet, looking at the yellow of the bulbs in his lights. you pictured spencer reid living here. it was another puzzle piece assumed into the idea of this man.

and your puzzle was nearly complete.

it was the last day you had to water his plants, and you entered and followed your routine. classical music played into your ears, so when you zoned back in, ready to walk out the door, you were startled by the frame of a man in the apartment. “oh!” you exclaimed.

the man’s eyebrows were raised, shock and joy painted on his face.

“spencer reid.” even after practicing saying his name, there was still a disconnect and something unreal about finally saying it in front of him.

“204.” he smiled. “i was just watering your plants.” you notioned to the greenery behind you. “right.” he said aptly.

while no words could be exchanged, the atmosphere around the two of you spoke the only word necessary.

finally.

spencer admired how casually beautiful you looked. your hair was untidy, going in different directions. you looked comfortable in your sweatpants and slippers, tangled earphones trailing into your pocket. you thought about how this wasn’t the state you wanted to be in for a first impression, but he didn’t want to see you any other way. you looked so real. so raw. and undeniably beautiful.

when you looked at spencer, everything fell into place. the handwriting, his voice, the quirks of the apartment, it all perfectly fit him. his hair fell in all the right angles, framing his face. god, his face. his cheekbones stuck out, leading you to his eyes. they were so clearly tired, but as he looked at you, a spark crossed behind them, the first in a while.

as both of you noticed the other was staring, the searing eye contact was broken to hide the pink forming on your faces. you felt embarrassed, needing to get out of the situation as quickly as possible. you shifted where you stood and said, “well, they’re watered.”

spencer offered a shy smile and a light nod, and you took that as the signal to quietly leave.

you held your smirk in as you left, but once you reached the doorway, your stomach lurched. you needed to say something. you’ve been waiting months to finally meet him, to finally see him. say. something.

“actually—” you pivoted on your heel. “yes?” he responded quickly, his face hopeful. “well, uh, only if you’re interested, of course,” you nervously rubbed your arm, “would you like to see my collection?” “of plants?” he clarified. “uh, yes-?” you tried to smile through the awkwardness. “i’d love to!” he grinned.

your knees were going to buckle at his smile, but you stood and led him into your apartment. you could feel him behind you, and there was something about him being so near that made you nervous. as you swung the door open, spencer’s eyes widened at all of the plants scattered throughout the space. his eyes darted from left to right, up to down, scanning the whole room, logging each of the species into his brain.

“a bit much?” you asked him, tension lifting itself from your shoulders. “oh not at all, it’s lovely.” he was still looking around the room, and at that point, spencer could memorise the placement of every item in the apartment. “my mom says it’s a bit much.” you said, trying to track his eyes and see what he was looking at. “i don’t think so, it fills up the space. someone to live in the place while you’re out.” “oh, absolutely,” you smiled. “call me crazy, but i do talk to my plants. supposedly it can help them grow.”

he was looking directly at you now, a smile on his face. “oh yeah? and how are they?” “oh, fantastic conversationalists.” you smiled back. you both chuckled and the room had brightened.

spencer sat down, making himself comfortable, and you introduced him to each of your plants—how you got them, why you got them, which was difficult to care for, which was the easiest. for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel out of place as you rambled about your plants. he sat and smiled, nodding, and asked questions, too. your heart warmed, never really meeting someone who would listen to you talk about it all.

and just when you wanted to ask him out to a different setting—his phone rang. “sorry, i need to take this.” he gave an upset smile.

he spoke into his phone seriously, saying nothing but ‘yes’ and ‘i’ll be there’.

you looked down at the floor, already knowing what that meant. “work, huh?” you asked once he put his phone away. “yeah, i’m sorry.” he rubbed the back of his head. “but hey, it was great to finally meet you!” he smiled. you handed him the key, but he shook his head. “no, keep it. for emergencies.” his dimples were evident.

☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎

that was around a month ago.

you haven’t seen him since. he disappeared just as quickly as he had suddenly came to existence—as he had proved he was real. on some days you would wait for a sound in the hallway, running to your door to look through the peephole. was it foolish to keep hope?

your apartment was in slight ruin. leaves of your long-kept plants looked upset, wilting towards the ground. the sun remained hidden behind closed curtains and the wind never gushed through.

you had even left him a plant. it still sat on his doorstep. it was the only plant you would water everyday, in the hopes that maybe, he would bring it in. but it sat there, slowly losing its life and color. but, after a week, the plant wasn’t alone. baskets and offerings filled the cramped hallway with the smell of freshly-baked goods and fruit. you never caught who had left them.

your ears were tuned out at this point—numb to every sound that crossed the hallway. so when you exited, finding two blondes at his door, you were a flurry of emotions.

“excuse me-is everything okay? can i help you?” you peeked to see their faces. both turned around to look at you. one’s face looked defensive, the other’s sympathetic. “i’m sorry, who are you?” one asked. “i-” you stammered to find the right label. friend? neighbor? occasional conversationalist? plant-waterer? “he’s a friend. i don’t even know if he’s home, i haven’t seen him in so long.” “oh, he’s home alright.” the other remarked. “we’re his friends. from work.” she offered a slight smile. “have you been leaving the baskets?” you asked. “oh, that’d be me! i’m penelope, it’s nice to meet you.” you shook her hand, introducing yourself. the other friend introduced herself as well, a simple “i’m jj.”

you contemplated but debated towards it. “has something happened to him?” you bit the inside of your cheek, your worry coming to the surface. jj and penelope looked at each other, and penelope gave a look that read as ‘you might as well’. “he’s lost someone close to him. a girlfriend, kind of.” jj hesitated.

girlfriend.

oh.

your hearing became numb as penelope gave you a polite smile, and jj moved to knock on spencer’s door. you retreated into your apartment, everything blurring—was that from tears or exhaustion? you closed the door behind you, back leaning against it, hearing penelope and jj’s footsteps fade away. you held your head in your hands, your hands shaking, lips trembling, skin turning cold. everything you had held in at this point came out in waves of pain and anger.

your vision returned when your tears had dried, your body aching from being on the floor. you wanted to make things right. he needed a friend right now, you knew that much.

he didn’t owe you anything. so what you were going to do was out of the absolute urge to take care of him. call it love, call it friendship, call it whatever you want. but it was the decent thing to do.

you took the key kept in the box with all of his letters, and without another thought, went to his apartment door. you turned the key in the keyhole, and although the hallway was deserted, his apartment was even quieter.

the silence was insulated by the presence of plants, but the life in the room had clearly slipped away.

you found spencer on the couch, exhaustion painted all over his body. while he slept, his body was tense, clutching a book into his chest. you held your tears back.

you quietly watered the plants, checking on each of them. you picked up the books on the floor, placing them into neat piles by the corner. there was no attempting placing them on the bookshelf, so the corner would have to suffice. you cleaned the dishes as softly as you could, and brought penelope’s baskets in. unwrapping them so gently for the cellophane to not make a single sound. you sorted the food into the refrigerator. and when the apartment started to look like itself again, you went over to spencer’s body on the couch. his body hadn’t relaxed one bit, eyes still shut tight, like he was afraid to open them and face reality.

you crouched down to his level, watching his pretty face sleep.

you did what was decent, so now you could let yourself indulge in one small thing.

you inched towards him, hearing his hushed breathing. your heartbeat quickened as you noticed how close you were to him. and you planted one small, light, kiss on his forehead.

☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎

spencer woke to the apartment in a condition better than he remembered. he tiredly went to his plants, touching the soil of the planters, feeling its moist texture under his fingers. he looked at the corner where the books had been moved, but his brain was too worn out for him to feel any bit of concern. a part of him knew it was you. by some miracle, it was you.

he looked at the door, and thought about thanking you.

he slowly opened it, his eyes adjusting to the fluorescent of the hallway.

when he looked down, it was your typical package—a note and an offering.

but there was no plant facing him.

instead, it was a packet of seeds.

he bent down to pick up your note and read it. he read your note, the same relief rushing over him that always did when it came to you.

seven words in your handwriting.

“life is more than living, it’s growing.”

☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎ꕥ☀︎︎

longer a/n: not to toot my own horn but DID YOU CATCH THE PLANT SYMBOLISMS??? DID U LIKE THE PLAYLIST?? I'M SORRY I'M JUST TOO EXCITED AND HAPPY WITH THIS FIC IM NOT GONNA STOP ABT THIS. I READ THIS BACK AND WAS LITERALLY LIKE ?? DID I WRITE THIS TF ? anyways i hope you liked it sorry you had to hear me gush like this i probably wont shut up about this one for a while

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merakiui · 3 years

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A Leaf Swept up in an Autumnal Breeze

yandere!kaedehara kazuha x (gender neutral) reader art credit - Tourou_7 on twt cw: yandere, unhealthy/obsessive behaviors, slight nsfw implications/thoughts, alcohol consumption, intoxication, spoilers for kazuha’s character story + inazuma lore note - i decided to write something short for kazuha as i analyze what we know so far of his character. hopefully the characterization isn’t too off! please enjoy nonetheless! orz

The moonlight casts its thin rays upon the calm, motionless sea. In the distance, fish surface and their movements are captured in the ripples that expand in the water, a minor blip in the otherwise tranquil atmosphere of the dark night. As if a god has taken a brush to the sky, utilizing its inky vastness as a canvas, the stars have been drawn in small specks—winking down at those who sleep underneath a blanket of natural light.

And you are caught up in the glorious shimmer, grinning widely as Beidou wraps her arm around you, pulling you against her as if the two of you have known each other for years. In reality, it’s only been a few months since you were discovered on her ship: a hidden stowaway with your Vision clutched in your hands and raw resolve etched into your body in the form of bruises and old scars. You’re a fighter and yet you also ran from something. Kazuha can’t quite tell what it is you’ve escaped. Whether it’s another person, a group of people, or even an entire nation, he’s certain it’s worthy of the risks that come with fleeing.

Your Vision shines brightly, a stark contrast to the dark color scheme of your clothes. He tries to place a nation to your outfit and comes up empty, his thoughts returning to Inazuma as though it’s the only place he can think of. And he supposes that’s true. The situation in Inazuma has clouded his mind with its strange fog, taking up residence in the nooks and crannies of his brain. Though he can dwell upon the past and the mistakes that led up to the downfall of a precious friend, he knows there is no use for such somber reflections during a happy celebration. Life moves on, as the common saying goes, and he cannot allow himself to remain trapped in the past.

During moments such as these, where he relives the horrible memory in vivid detail, you are a sweet balm that soothes the sting of loss. Even when you’re struggling to stand, face hot from the intoxication of good drinks in even better company, you’re a wondrous presence who chases away his doubts and worries.

Unknowingly, you cast a temporary shroud over those matters and he’s put at ease the minute you extend your arm in his direction.

“Kazuha! Come over here. Let’s dance!”

A hiccup interrupts your jovial giggle and Beidou chuckles before throwing her head back to drink what’s left in her flask. The aura of her ship is beyond lively. Men and women alike celebrate another successful week with drinks, harrowing tales of past heroes, and broken ballads sang in drunken tones. He can’t help the smile that sprouts on his lips. You’re such an outgoing person, always wanting to include him in your daily activities. And though he politely declines whenever you offer him alcohol, he has wondered what the appeal could possibly be.

Perhaps it’s the idea of losing your sensibility for one night, ignoring all reason for the sake of spending pleasurable moments in the confines of a warm bed, wrapped snugly in a lover’s embrace. Such instances are lost to intoxicating pleasure—buried under a hazy recollection come morning. But you haven’t done that sort of thing. Kazuha would know. He listens in while you’re relaxing—while you’re bathing and going about life on the ship without a care in the world—and his head runs wild with all sorts of fantasies. Fantasies he never would have imagined had he not met you.

To think you were just a mere stowaway, a trespasser who had snuck onto the ship and hid in the darkest corner, obscured by crates and chests. And he had pulled those crates aside in search of a few ingredients and his eyes met yours and you held your finger to your lips—a silent urge to keep quiet—and his heart skipped a beat.

It was a special meeting between two, which will remain locked away in his heart for all of eternity. A memory he regards with warm fondness. After much negotiation and a disarming conversation, you were soon welcomed with open arms as Beidou practically offered you to join her crew. You had nowhere else to go—no one else to see or protect—and so you agreed. And Kazuha felt a relief he hasn’t felt in a while, the sort of emotion that stems from almost losing something important.

The pure relief that comes and goes once he realizes you’re a missing piece in the puzzle of his life.

“You’ll trip,” he warns, pushing off from the side of the ship and walking over to you and Beidou. “It wouldn’t be wise to dance in your inebriated state. Surely you’re aware of this, no?”

“I can hold my alcohol.” Your wavering glare doesn’t reach him. “Don’t... Don’t think otherwise or else I’ll—ah!”

The majority of Beidou’s weight burdens your shoulders and you nearly almost crumble.

“You—“ she searches for a means to steady herself— “worry too much,” the captain adds, nodding in agreement to an unspoken statement. “It’ll be okay! Live a little while you’re still young.”

Kazuha sighs and easily slips between the two of you, hooking his arm around Beidou’s waist as he guides her to a barrel. The scent of alcohol kisses the air, clinging to your clothes and breath like an oversaturated perfume. Once she’s sat down, now fully determined to get the last few drops from out of the flask, the rōnin turns to you. He’s caught by surprise when your hands grasp his, your eager expression stabbing his heart with a dozen pins. He’s rooted to the floorboards, unable to look away when your face is dangerously close to his.

“You heard the captain,” you tease in a slurred voice. “Live a little.”

And he does. Or he thinks he does. Having traveled with Beidou, this is the current life he’s come to know and appreciate. But is it truly living if he feels unfulfilled in the process? To find a means for bringing back the familiar glow in a lonely Vision. To secure peace of mind and put his rowdy thoughts to rest. To one day return to the nation he was forced to flee, with you in tow. Are all of these things necessary in order to fill the gaping void in his damaged heart? Kazuha wonders if you also came from Inazuma. Perhaps you wouldn’t be so surprised to see the scenery if he were to take you there. Not now, of course. Sometime in the future, if such a future holds a changed Inazuma.

“I’m going to warn you now,” he mumbles, his fingers ghosting over your waist, “I’m not what one would call a dancer of skillful grace.”

“I don’t think that’s true, dear Kazuha.”

He blinks once and then releases a short laugh at the endearing term. “If you say so.”

“Enough talk.” You huff and pull him into your chest and he feels as though he could stay locked in this position for millennia. “Dance with me before...” A stilted pause as you nearly forget your sentence. “Before I turn in for the night. That’s it.”

Or before you get sick, he thinks, not so cheerful about the inevitable mess. But he’ll tolerate it because you’ve tolerated him. You never pry into his past, nor do you force him to answer personal questions regarding Inazuma and the Raiden Shogun. If you ever notice the way he lingers near your quarters, you don’t say a word. And if you hear his subdued moans as his hand moves in time with a picturesque fantasy of your nude form pressed against his, you keep your mouth shut. You are everything he could ever want and like the very ideal the Raiden Shogun wishes to uphold he wants to pursue an eternity with you.

Your movements are far from the precision you normally have when moving about the ship and it’s a very odd dance. Yet you spin him and he follows your unusual lead like an animal with tunnel vision. For a taut moment, the background noise melts away into obscurity and the two of you are the only people in existence. He stares at your face the entire time, ignoring the way your sandals crush his feet or the instances where he unintentionally returns the gesture. It’s certainly an awkward sort of waltz, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And in this moment where no one else matters, he sees your radiance in the glow of the moon. You truly are worthy of the sun and the stars beyond and should you verbalize an outlandish wish of that nature he has no choice but to follow through.

Like a leaf swept up in an autumnal breeze, reminiscent of a ronin who lacks a place in the world, Kazuha allows himself to be carried on by the winds that rustle the sails and tangle through your hair, painting you in a backdrop that’s heaven handcrafted by the pickiest god. And where you have your wits, a lively Vision, and your confidence, he only has his blade, a dull Vision, and an inkling of hope. But that’s really all he requires.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere kazuha x reader #yandere kazuha #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere kaedehara kazuha #yandere kaedehara kazuha x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha

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kamotoshi · 3 years

Text

reminders [fushiguro tōji x reader]

pairing: fushiguro tōji x fem reader

genre: fluff

warnings: a bit of swearing; brief mentions of past trauma, manipulation, and financial instability/struggles

word count: 2.3k

overview: a sunset picnic reminds him to stop for a moment and remind his wife how he truly feels about her

note: just another fic to serve as evidence for my obsession with making big, beefy 2d men with tough exteriors completely soft for their significant others (wives especially)

“Aren’t we just the cutest couple ever?”

Tōji’s eyes move from the spread of food laid out across the patterned blanket beneath the two of you over to either side of him, where a few other couples and families have set up their picnic spots for the evening, then, to your phone. A glance at the screen displaying the timed photo you’d just spent the past five to ten minutes setting the scene for and perfecting brings a smirk to his face.

“Just the right amount of nauseating.”

“Like, to the point where people are a little envious, but they don’t think we’re being too over the top, right?”

“Right.”

You hum in understanding as you pop a piece of fruit into your mouth.

“But, I would say err on the side of caution and don’t post the super lovey-dovey ones. Actually, please don’t. That’s a request now.”

Your hand flies to your chest to match the look of feigned shock on your face at his words. He doesn’t miss how the diamond on your finger sparkles in the amber glow of the setting sun. The thought crosses his mind that he wants to buy you a bigger one when he has enough money to set aside—something that would shine just a bit brighter. Almost as brightly as that beautiful smile of yours he had the pleasure of seeing each day, if he was lucky.

“You mean… I can actually post a picture that I took with my notoriously elusive husband?”

With a nod, he shifts his gaze to the horizon—or whatever he can see of it peeking around the sides of each building—for a moment. “Just know it’ll probably end my job,” is his response given with a sigh, “Nobody’ll fear me after they see that I enjoy sunset picnics with my adorable wife, now, will they?”

“Or,” you offer with a grin, scooting closer to him so his arm can snake around your waist, “it could give you an advantage, people thinking you’re kinda sweet. Like, oh, he’s a cold-blooded killer who takes care of business, but he’s got a soft side, too. And then, bam! You swoop in and they’ll never even know what hit ‘em.” Sweeping a hand dramatically across the landscape in front of you, as if you want him to picture the scene in your head, you add, “Suddenly, you’re the talk of the town. Women want you. Men want to be you. Hell, they’d probably want you too.”

“And that’s the story of how I end up on the front covers of magazines, right?”

“Exactly. This is just the start of your success story, baby.” Tenderly, you place a hand on the side of his face to bring it closer to your lips. After pecking him on the cheek, you whisper, “Just try not to forget about me when you’re famous, okay?”

He turns to look directly at you, his eyebrow raised with incredulousness in an expression you’ve seen many times before. “You kidding me? I would never. Be famous, I mean.”

The teasing smack you land on his chest doesn’t deter him from leaning down towards you to press a kiss against your lips that you readily return in spite of your complaints at his devious comment. He relishes in the sweet taste lingering on his tongue when he pulls away, and the affection present in your half-lidded gaze brings a comforting warmth over him akin to the feeling of finally crawling into bed after a long day. In his moment of distraction, you’re able to sneak in another meeting of your lips before grabbing one of the snack boxes you’d meticulously crafted and dropping it into his lap.

“Since I’m nice, unlike you, I’ll still let you eat the food lovingly prepared by your loving wife.”

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, giving your thigh an appreciative squeeze, “You know I love you.”

“I mean, I hope you do. You did marry me, and stick with me all these years, after all, you weirdo.”

He chuckles and pats your leg before shifting his attention to the delicious food you’d put together for the two of you, and you settle down beside him after collecting your own. His free hand plants on the ground beside your opposite hip, closing the gap between you.

Each day that he gets to spend with you he’s thankful for. But there’s something different about those where the sight of the sun slowly descending toward the horizon is beautiful enough to draw both of you out of the house to sit and watch it. He can’t quite explain it, but everything about these days feels different. The harshness of the city seems to fade away for a bit. The air smells sweeter. His breaths come a bit more deeply. The absence of your body against his in some way is felt more intensely.

In between gazing ahead at the sunset—allowing his eyes to flicker to his meal, the kids zipping past every now and then on their bikes, or other passersby—he finds his attention being drawn back to you. Each feature of your face bathed in the golden light of the sun’s last rays brings an unexpected flutter to his heart. He’s never surprised by how gorgeous you are, but, still finds himself in awe of just how lucky he is each time he stops to take it all in.

Lucky that he gets to wake up next to you and see you in those quiet moments of the morning when your eyes are still struggling to focus and your cheek is stamped with each wrinkle of your pillowcase, but you look beautiful all the same. Lucky that the arms and legs he has draped around him until you both wake up sweaty in the middle of the night are yours. Lucky to be offered a refuge wherever you are. Lucky you’re one he promised to love for the rest of his life.

In the busyness of your days, sometimes things are assumed rather than said. He assumes the parting kiss he presses to your lips each time he leaves the house translates into a small, “I love you, I’ll be back soon.” Just like he assumes the way he pulls you onto his lap while you’re sitting together, watching a movie, sends a small message of, “I need you here, close to me.” Or the pause he takes to gaze into your eyes after your more passionate displays of affection means, “I love you more than I know how to say.”

He realizes, given the risky nature of his work, that thought alone isn’t enough, though. Maybe he’s too afraid of saying something that’ll curse you for his lips to form the words he’s thinking as often as they should, but if he was one to let his life be ruled by fear, he wouldn’t be sitting with you in the first place. He would’ve let his family wreak havoc on him for the entirety of his life, weighing it down with constant reminders of his failures. He would’ve let his fear of being vulnerable keep him from getting close enough to you to fall in love with you.

Yet, here he is, making relaxed conversation with you—his wife—as the two of you sit together beneath a sea of brilliant oranges, candied pinks, and the gentlest hues of lavender. With the way you use your steadily built and strongly maintained trust in him to speak so freely and be so vulnerable without fear of judgment, he feels it’s only fair that he shows his trust in you by doing the same. That he reminds you of his feelings rather than lets the implications behind his actions speak for him.

When he decides to mention it, most of the sky has lost its fire and quite a few of the other picknickers have packed up and returned home. But the two of you choose to remain out just a bit longer in the warmth of the summer night, bathed in the sound of cicadas chirping incessantly. “Hey babe?” he calls, giving your hand resting in his a gentle squeeze as his cheek drops to the blanket so he can look at you.

“Mm?” You shift onto your side and scoot closer to him, moving your interlaced hands to your chest, holding the back of his against your gently beating heart. On instinct, your other set of fingers find his face to brush a few strands of dark hair away from his eyes, and he presses feathery kisses to your palm.

Sighing against your skin, he asks, “Do I tell you I love you enough?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you assure him, “I know you do.”

“Because I say it?”

You hum with uncertainty, fingers gliding from the scar at the side of his mouth down his neck, and to one of his broad shoulders. “More because I can see it in the way you look at me. But, then again, I also see you look at a really good meal the same way. Makes me kinda jealous sometimes,” is your answer given with a small, teasing smile, “Besides, I feel like I can safely assume that you’ve stayed with me all these years because you love me, right?”

“Of course,” he says, the strength in his voice contrasting the subtle, pained look behind his eyes, “But I don’t say it enough, do I?”

There’s a short pause before you murmur, “Not usually unless I say it first. But it tends to be more of a reflex for both of us, anyway. Like, ‘I’m heading out now, love you!’ or, ‘Goodnight, I love you,’ y’know?”

A gentle tug on your wrist pulls you towards him, until you’re propped up on both elbows, body leaning over his. Wrapping an arm around your waist brings your chests flush against one another and your faces mere centimeters apart. The way he’s regarding you as nothing else is as important as you are to him in this moment has you melting into the kiss he plants on your lips.

“You’re the love of my life.” Heat radiates from your chest all the way up to your face at his tenderly spoken words accompanied by his thumb skimming along your cheekbone. “And you deserve to hear me tell you how much I care about you more often because you’re the only person who’s made me feel deserving of love.”

The hand on your back slowly moves up and down, his fingers tracing along your spine. It was once deemed as a mindless behavior in your eyes, but after many years with him, you’ve come to learn that sometimes it’s a means of comforting himself or finding the courage to speak about something that’s been on his mind. To reassure him, you place a soft peck against the corner of his mouth and run your fingertips across his jaw.

He seems to find the strength he needs to speak the rest of his truth, since he continues, “I remember being terrified when I first realized how much I loved you. Because here I was, thinking I was only gonna marry someone as a way of erasing my connections to my family, and that falling in love would weaken me—make me easier to be manipulated—but you changed my mind. And I don’t think there’s a damn thing that could ever happen to make me wish I did things differently, even though we got married young, when we barely had enough money to our names to get ourselves through the week.”

A pang of somewhat bittersweet nostalgia ripples through you at the memories of sleeping on the floor, clinging to one another to keep warm during the cold, winter nights. Of how you’d both worked so tirelessly to make a living that sometimes all you’d do was cry into his shoulder when you got home. But soon, there was a couch. A bed. A table. A lamp that didn’t flicker. Then, a new place in a safer part of the city, filled with all the furniture and appliances you could need. Jobs that paid enough for the tears to subside.

The impulsiveness the two of you had displayed in your early twenties had gotten you into a lot of sometimes unbearable situations, but you wouldn’t have changed a thing had you somehow been granted the power to alter the past. While unpleasant, those events had helped the two of you get to where you are today, happier and more in love than ever.

“After all we’ve been through, and that you’ve stuck with me through, I at least owe it to you to remind you how much you mean to me instead of just assuming you know. Because you really do mean the world to me. So, this is me telling you that I love and appreciate you a lot more than I might feel capable of saying sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.”

With that same, bright smile of yours that he adores, you take your weight off your elbows to wrap your arms around him while he gives your body a tight squeeze in return. “I love you so much, Tōji,” you hum, heart swelling with joy.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

There’s a few moments of peaceful silence while the two of you remain wrapped up in a tight and much-needed embrace. Eventually, a deep exhale fans across your neck before he mentions, “That was pretty cheesy, huh?”

“Just a bit. But I promise not to tell anyone you’re secretly a bit of a sap, okay?” you comment, sending the two of you into a small fit of snickers. Your tone is more serious, however, when you mention, “It made me really happy to hear, though.”

“Good,” is his response as he moves his head so he can press his mouth to your temple. His next words are spoken quietly, as if just to himself, and nearly lost beneath the layers of environmental noise surrounding you, but you’re glad you hear them.

“That’s all that matters to me.”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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sour-n-salty-citrus · 3 years

Note

I'm screaming,,please talk more about aftoncest!! When you mentioned fnaf and shipping, I thought you were talking about Gregory and glamrock freddy

AHAH, i have seen gregory and glamrock freddy around (which looks very 👀👀👀 might i add), but I haven't gotten onto security breach quite yet.

Yes, it's true, the ship i was vagueposting about was aftoncest! I figured it was time i got back into fnaf (the last time i was "into" the series was... oof, 2016 probably?) so i looked up a lore guide. I knew afton was the child killer at this point due to osmosis and occasionally hearing something, but I wasn't aware he had kids! (I remembered the crying child from fnaf 4- and very very vaguely knew about the girl from sister location). I saw Michael's sprite and was like "oh hey, he seems like the oldest- Michael, huh, wonder how he fits i-" and then it went "the Mike Schmidt who's the protagonist of fnaf1" and I was like he's THAT MIKE????

I was curious to see if he had any voice lines so i looked it up, found a video on the SL cutscene(?), played it, and immediately heard,

"father."

...

And yup, that did it for me, I was 100% sold. I already figured Michael and William probably had a twisted relationship (i mean it's the fucking purple guy and his son akdhajdhaj *wheeze* how could they not) but then I read more of the lore and wow. WOOOW. These two uh- they have... well they have a relationship-

It's really interesting to me! I mean, from what I remember of michael in fnaf 4, the kid was kind of a bully (RIP crying child lmao)- even if I'm sure he didn't actually mean to ever hurt Evan. It makes me wonder, what kind of a parent Afton was to his children- was he so absent that this behaviour went unchecked for so long? Did Michael just think that it was okay- that teasing and bullying was a natural part of showing affection (just think about those implications for a second oh no-). Maybe Michael took the brunt of all his father's bs, and that's why he lashed out at Evan, in the form of pranks and teasing (even if it crossed the line)- maybe on some level he hated how free Evan got to be, he still got to be a crying child, blissfully ignorant, whereas Michael was more grown up, was less illusioned to the reality of what went on inside their house- not to project or anything, but as the eldest lemme tell ya, we absolutely get the brunt of any issues with our parents. Maybe Michael wants his father's love and attention, but also sees the truth behind who is father is (even without the child murdering ajdgsjdhsjdhsj)- which makes their relationship delightfully complicated.

Michael becoming an adult makes it even more interesting. Michael still clearly respected William enough to do what he said without question seeing as, well, not just anyone will do you a favour and go put your dead daughter/their sister "back together", endangering and dying themself in the process. It makes me wonder about how close they must have grown. How the absense of Michael's mother, Elizabeth and Evan must have affected their relationship, how it might have twisted from already unhealthy to codependent. Michael suddenly overlooking all his father's flaws and mistreatment out of guilt and desperation to keep him around. William growing obsessively attached to the only person he has left. I feel like William is attached to Michael, too- he's the only person he trusts, and, well, when someone is willing to do almost anything for you, you're going to feel fondness for them (as twisted as it may be). I like to think of it as a really fucked up lowkey servent and master dynamic- Michael is William's favourite little tool, whom he can use and abuse but is strong enough not to break under it (until he does- but its fine, because he can always pick up the pieces.)

(He's good at that. Breaking things and putting them back together.)

Just hnghfnfhfnfhdhd these two! Ah! They're basically the protagonist and antagonist of the series, and you know i love me some hero/villain ships sometimes. Its so delicious, you get to add a whole extra topping of manipulation and inseparability and obsession and all kinds of spice to the mix with this ship! The familial ties making it so that they'll always be connected to one another, the attachment, the history! *mwah*, brilliant, 10/10.

#please send me more asks about this because #hhhh this SHIP #also i know i probably rambled a bit ajdjsdhsjdj #i have a lot of feelings #esp about mike individually because hes my favourite help-#did i talk enough about the ship itself? i feel like i might have focused a bit on them individually oops #but YES i love it sm #i know theres probably like 2 others shippers out there dw u guys I'll feed you with my shameless self indulgence #aftoncest #citrus speaks #ty for the ask nonny i get insecure about my ship rambles sometimes so its reassuring to know someone doesnt mind it akdhajdhsjdj

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imagines-oneshots-galore · 4 years

Text

For Science

A/N: Hello all, it’s been a hot fucking minute. Some things have changed in how I write/ When i write/ etc. So I have no idea when I’ll get the time to write. Which brings me to the reason for this fic. I started watching the originals, and was immediately obsessed. Personally, I’m an Elijah girl, but this popped into my head and I couldn’t get it out fast enough. Wrote this in two hours 😅 Hope it’s okay! It was my first time writing for the Mikaelsons.

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 1,587

Summary: It’s the Fourth of July, Klaus isn’t home, Rebekah is oddly silent and Elijah, Hayley and Y/N decide to conduct a scientific experiment.

Warnings: Some saucy implications, swearing, Klaus, innuendos

AO3

Masterlist

Rebekah was up to something, a notion they could all agree on. Elijah, Hayley and Y/N sat on the couch in the living room of the Mansion, not hearing a sound despite knowing she was home. The one person who wasn’t present, was Klaus.

Thus, Rebekah was definitely up to something, but what it could be?

Lots of possibilities, with many different levels of peril, all designed specifically for one Niklaus Mikaelson. They knew they should probably get involved, especially Y/N, whose very boyfriend was the one at risk. But they also knew the outcome would be spectacular, so they all silently decided to do nothing. For now, Y/N would continue to write on her computer, and Hayley and Elijah would continue reading the same book together.

It may be a national holiday, but they had other things that required their attention at the moment.

A loud crash came from above them, followed by a curse only heard by the ones with supernatural hearing. They all looked up to the ceiling, right where they knew that Klaus and Y/N’s room was located. Simultaneously, they looked back to each other, one more silent conversation later, and they returned to their activities.

Hayley felt a buzz against her hip, and she knew it was Elijah’s. She reached between them to grab the phone, opening the notification.

“Klaus just texted saying he was on his way, based on the colorful vocabulary, I’d say the negotiation with Marcel didn’t go as planned,” Hayley said quietly to the group, not loud enough for Rebekah to hear as she showed the text to Elijah.

“He said he’ll be here in a few minutes. I wonder, should we tell her of her expedited deadline?” He muttered, thumbs poised working as he replied to his brother.

“Hell no,” Y/N laughed, and soon as it happened, the three paused, making sure Rebekah wasn’t listening into the conversation now. When nothing was heard yet, they all let out a collective breath.

“I want to see this play out, without interference” She said, softer this time as a wicked smirk came upon all of their faces.

“A scientific experiment, if you will,” Hayley said, suppressing the urge to laugh.

“Yes, for science.” Elijah said, and without another word, they all resumed what they were doing moments ago.

As promised, minutes later, Hayley and Elijah heard the faint hum of Niklaus’s vehicle. Apparently, Rebekah did as well, judging by the way they all heard another curse, followed by a frantic shuffling, and then she ran down the stairs and into the foyer.

She was slightly out of breath, and her eyes looked wild. The most damning piece of evidence was the lone feather sitting in her hair.

It didn’t take a conversation to know they would keep that information to themselves. Letting the cards fall where they may, in the name of knowledge. Rebekah smoothed out her shirt, letting out a breath as she walked over to sit next to Y/N on the adjoining couch. She picked up a random book as the car drew closer.

“I hope that I can trust you all to agree that I was here the whole time,” Rebekah said sweetly, an underlying threat laced in her words as she kept her gaze on the book.

“As long as my room isn’t destroyed,” Y/N said just as sweetly, and Rebekah paled slightly. Y/N may still be human, but she was still able to make Rebekah gulp.

“Rebekah…” She began to warn, right as they heard Klaus make it to the driveway. Only moments now.

“I will fix it myself but please say nothing,” She whispered, speaking fast, pleadingly, and before Y/N could agree or deny, Klaus sped into the mansion. His posture was tense, and his brow was furrowed. They all knew Hayley’s suspicion was correct.

“Marcellus Gerard is a conniving twit and I will be glad when we finally dethrone the treacherous bastard,” He huffed, as his gaze shifted to his girlfriend, and he softened in front of their eyes. He plopped down behind her, pulling her body closer to his chest. His hands traced down her arms as he whispered loud enough for only her to hear. Not that any of them would want to hear whatever it was. Based on their facial expressions, it wasn’t hard to guess what was being said.

“I rather think a long relaxing wash in my multi-headed shower sounds rather spectacular before the upcoming night of festivities” Klaus grinned into her skin. She shivered as she felt his warm breath on her neck, and she began to nod her head. But then she opened her eyes and gazed back upon Rebekah, with the damn feather in her hair.

She quickly thought of an excuse.

“I’ll be up in a moment, I have a couple more things I need to write down before I forget them.” She said, a little breathy. Both at the thought of what was promised, and her being put on the spot. Then another thought crossed her mind, as Klaus nodded, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

If she didn’t say anything, she would surely not get to experience whatever Klaus was cooking up in his gorgeous head. But if she told him. He might forgive Rebekah’s attempted prank in favor of private time with his girlfriend. She locked eyes with Rebekah, and saw that she knew what Y/N had on the line.

After a tense millisecond, Y/N rolled her eyes, and let Klaus get up without another word. Rebekah breathed out imperceptibly, and Hayley rested her mouth against Elijah’s shoulder to conceal her smile.

Right before he left, Klaus turned and looked at Rebekah.

“There’s a feather in your hair sister,” He said, before turning back around, as Rebekah frantically pulled the feather from her blonde curls.

Klaus finally left with a pleased smile on his face, and suddenly they all felt a bit guilty.

Only for a moment though, he had staked and tortured (except for Y/N and Hayley of course, though Hayley was not immune to his taunts and quips) them many times over the centuries.

“Thanks for telling me,” She growled quietly, and Elijah casually looked up at his sister.

“For the results to be as accurate as possible, we could not interfere” He said matter of factly, as Hayley nearly snorted, her hand gripping his button up shirt. He reached up to grab hers, and brought it to his lips.

Before Rebekah had the chance to ask what the hell he was talking about, they collectively heard Klaus open his door, and then a mechanical grinding. Something that sounded like a liquid fell to the floor as Klaus cried out in clear surprise. Moments later, and a loud wooshing sound was heard.

It was silent for a few moments, and everyone waited in bated breaths for what was to come next.

“REBEKAHHH!” Klaus screamed dramatically, and before the name was even finished, she was out of the door, running away like her life depended on it. Probably because it did.

The group busted out laughing, and Hayley and Y/N looked to each other. Another wooshing sound and there he was.

Covered in thick chocolate syrup and a shit ton of feathers stood a murderous Klaus Mikaelson. Even the stoic Elijah couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips at the clever prank.

“First, Marcellus turns down a perfectly good exchange of power, then my sister proverbially tars and feathers me, and now I begin to realize that my sweet Y/N let her devoted boyfriend walk right into a trap,” He said, continuing the dramatics as always.

“Happy American Independence Day brother” Elijah sighed, as fireworks started up outside. Hayley turned excitedly to the window, and his gaze turned to her, adoration clear on his face. Without another word, he stood up, Hayley cradled in his arms as she yelped at the sudden movement.

“If you’ll excuse us, I will be going to take my partner to watch the fireworks,” And he ran out of the room before Klaus had the chance to argue, Hayley’s giggle echoing in the wind.

Klaus huffed indignantly, getting himself all worked up again. Y/N lifted the laptop from her lap, setting it to the side so she could make her way to her whining boyfriend.

“I’m going to find Rebekah, and when I do I’ll…” He ranted, Y/N wrapping her arms around his neck, not caring about the sticky transfer of chocolate sauce and feathers onto her clothes. His arms wound around her waist as she quietly interrupted his threats.

“Pretend to laugh it off, to lull her into a false sense of security. Then you’ll come back to me to plan your revenge,” Her lips ghosted over the skin of his neck as she spoke, before her tongue darted up to lick a bit of the dark syrup.

“For now, I promised you a nice long shower,” She said as she pulled away, and met his signature smirk.

“You are truly wicked my dear,” He all but growled, pulling her harder against his body as she giggled. “I believe you are correct, I will most definitely be needing your assistance, love,” And as soon as the words left his lips, he picked her up and ran them to the washroom, the need for revenge forgotten for now.

A solid day's work in the name of Science.

#the originals #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #hayley x elijah #hayley marshall #rebekah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine

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nomunamuinmybrain · 3 years

Text

Take care of you (M)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Rating: M

Genre: Slice of Life/ Fluff/ Smut

Word Count: 1.5K

At last, a collaboration with my best friend@alwaysdarkestbeforethedawn94, the person responsible for my kpop obsession. She is my rock and without her this tumblr page wouldn't even exist. Every time we meet we go on a ride by the coast line and come up with possible scenarios of what we assume might be happening or has happened in the lives of BTS. Since we are in quarantine we will be sharing with all of you.

Disclaimer: if you are under the age of 18 please know that this is heavy sexual content.

Summary: When Yoongi comes back home late from a schedule, you make sure he gets the treatment of a lifetime.

Being with Yoongi is with no doubt one of the best experiences in your whole existence and by all means you are convinced it will last a lifetime. At the beginning of your relationship, the man had been a spellbinding enigma waiting for someone to finally decipher him. Undoubtedly, who were you to say ‘no’ to such a challenge?

Invariably, a true workaholic; married to his job while the rest of his body is entangled with music; you simply couldn’t have one without the other. Sometimes it makes you wonder how he is so competently skillful at his own craft. He has been carrying a great deal of nicknames to his name; musical genius, a prodigy, King Midas of the musical pentagram to name a few. You couldn’t say you disagreed, everything the public has said about him is completely and utterly true; he genuinely turns to gold everything he touches. Once he sets his mind on a project there is literally nothing that can stop him. He immerses himself into it and delivers in a way that exceeds every imagination. Of course, he would try to argue with you about that if he were here this very moment, but you knew different.

That’s why you found yourself at his place this late at night. He had told you approximately two months ago that they were planning something big for their future live performances. You knew very well by now that comeback week was the busiest most exhausting period for any artist but given Yoongi's status the situation was amplified times a hundred. Needless to say, that instantly meant a mountain load of work waiting to be done not only for him, but also for the rest of the group. Consequently, for you, this time of the year implied way less time with him and more time on the phone talking at ungodly hours of the day. It’s for that reason he gave you his apartment’s keys last weekend. He hadn’t given you a definite explanation for his action other that “It is about time”. However, you knew better than that. Yoongi is always so attentive to your needs, and even if he hadn’t said it out loud, there was no need to; you could read him like the back of your hand. He is an incredibly considerate, understanding and patient individual. He always goes out of his way to silently make others feel special, and that is one of the things you love about him.

You tried your best to make his arrival back from the showcase as serene as possible. He is giving you so much already that you wanted to give him back just as much. Once he opened the door you understood that he is spent, you can tell from the soft way his eyes slowly shut, ready to surrender in a deep slumber. After setting the table and getting something to eat he takes a quick shower to rid himself off the reminiscence of the day. After that, he moves to the cabinet near the wall, opens the door, pours himself a glass of whiskey and heads to the couch in the living room. It doesn’t take a lot of time to notice that he is already under the influence of dark liquor. You gently approach him sitting right beside him on his dark smooth couch and lean in to his chest. He smells clean and soft, he wore clothes straight out of the dryer right after his shower. You snuggle closer to him, this white t-shirt making him look so hot, you swear it's almost see-through, and you let your hand wander on his torso, tracing the lined muscles that lay underneath. You stare at his gentle features, eyes closed and you feel like you are in a trance. You think to yourself “Damn, he is so easy on the eyes”. The only thing getting you out of this state of bewitchment is his voice. He softly grunts, a smirk stretching his face, "You have no idea how much my whole body aches...." he signs."What can I do to help my baby?" you ask full of anticipation, mentally preparing a list of things you would like to do to him. "Whatever it is that you have in mind, I am all yours to play with" he replies, gaze filled with implication. And that was the push you needed to devour your man. At once you straddle his thighs, hands flying to the back of his neck to grasp on his healthy vibrant hair and bring him

closer for a painfully lustful kiss, you are insatiable tonight. You’ve missed him so much. "I needed your lips on mine, I missed you so much baby" you unapologetically confess. His large hands massage your thighs and then travel to your backside pushing you even closer, making you one. It was times like this when you felt like you had no clue where he ended and you began. "I can tell", he says with a low grunt. Deep throaty moans rumble from his chest the faster you rub yourself on him while leaving aching marks all over his arched neck and toned chest. "Yes, yes....Mark me, baby. I'm all yours. U-ugh... All yours" he lets out, words almost like a whisper. Off goes his shirt, same fate follows for the shorts and just as he's about to flip you over beneath him you immediately put your hands on his chest to stop him. "Tonight is all about you, so just lay back and relax. Let me do my job" you tease with a wink. Thinking back to all the close and personal moments you’ve both shared, inconspicuously, you absolutely treasured instances like this, watching him being so eager to find the sweet solace of relief. The shuddered exhale that escapes him leaves you satisfied. You palm his throbbing cock over his pitch black boxers, his head instinctively dropping to the back of the couch once again as a clear sign of surrender. “My sweet, sweet boy, I wanna ruin you tonight” you shamelessly admit. He already knows that this is a reward more for you rather than him. ‘Cause even though you love the way he takes over you every time you get intimate, you want him to let go and trust you. You take off the last piece of clothing standing between you and your reward, Yoongi's well endowed member. You lick across his length, earning that familiar hiss you so crave to hear. You tease him for a while, languidly sucking only the tip, saliva dripping from your plump lips making it easier for your hand to pump his thick length with accurate precision. His slender hips involuntarily twitch to thrust deeper into your sensual mouth. "Baby, please...please..." he begs as one hand lazily brushes your hair from your forehead. He is putty in your hands, all yours to devour. Your little living room filled with lewd wet sounds as you mercilessly suck him off, as if it was the very last time but still you couldn't get enough; you could never get enough of him. Yoongi is like your own personal addiction.

As he's approaching his climax, hair sticking to his face, you place your left hand around his right thigh and caress. "My sweet baby, a mess, all because of me" you drunkenly declare. Hand still in your hair, the harder his grasp, the faster you go. You feel his grip in your hair becoming stronger and stronger while you hear his whines getting louder and louder. That’s how you know he is on the verge of letting go. You look up at him and take his entire glory in. "I swear he is alluring, so tempting and he tastes so good" you ponder. You continue your mistreatment and in no time he blows his load in you, releasing a loud scream to echo around the house. You keep him in your mouth observing as he slowly descents from his high. Gradually, he opens his eyes and looks back at you; face blown out yet blissful. He covers your hand with his own and with a satisfied smirk, you climb back on his lap for cuddles. You brush the damp strands away from his face to see him better, never breaking eye contact. "Was that okay?" you mischievously ask, breaking the silence. "More than okay" he joyfully exclaims. You stayed there wrapped together under the blanket until sleep called for you to head to bed. Once under the covers, he pulls your back to his warm chest and buries his face in your sensitive neck giving it a chaste peck, "I love you" he softly declares with a low whisper. You wrap your hands around his tighter, "I love you more" you profess playfully. From then on, you let your heavy eyes close taking in his pleasing scent; cherishing even the slightest thing about him you both end up falling into a deep slumber.

#bts #bts yoongi #bts smut #bts fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts fluff #yoongi fluff

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life-rewritten · 4 years

Text

ITSAY EP 4- SELF-SABOTAGE, HINDERANCES, AND REVERSE HELPS

Warning a painful post coming. I cried so much while analysing this. A lot happened on episode 4 of ITSAY, and I've spent days trying to process. First of all, with that episode my weary heart grows hopeful for a happy ending, even if it is bittersweet, I can't see what else they could possibly do after breaking my heart into pieces. So yes I don't see deaths coming, I don't even see running away from feelings coming anymore, I feel like episode 4 fulfilled all the foreshadowing clues left, and there's nothing left now except but to wait and see the results of the exams. To fully understand the episode and relieve that whole heartbreak again, let's analyse the theme this time and this time let's look deeply at Tehs: Self-loss, regression and sabotage because of the overwhelming consequences of feelings.

THE CONSEQUENCES OF MISTRANSLATION OF THE HEART

For me, this episode was like a cut that refused to heal. It's easy to predict most of the events that occur in this episode: Teh freaking out about his sexuality, trying to distance himself from Oh, Oh getting hurt becoming resentful, Oh becoming even more hurt when Teh finally tries to call what they have off, both become lost and confused and defeated, Teh gives up all he has for Oh, Oh rejects it and they return back to their rivalry/ their relationship regresses.

Remember in my previous post (here) I said that Episode 1 was going to be mirrored in Episode 5, that there were so many full circle moments they could return to. Well, I think Episode 1 started to be reflected in Episode 4 with our characters: Oh and Teh have repeated a cycle again of resentment, rivalry and regression (will discuss this in my next post). They've returned back to their old state as rivals no longer friends, no longer lovers, no longer intimate.

And it's not like Teh wanted this to happen. Teh is so lost when he's without Oh, remember he's addicted and obsessed with Oh, Oh is like the only thing that keeps him grounded and not restless. The fear of losing Oh is something that Teh can't control, it causes him to act out, to lose his mind and it causes him to try and try and try every single time to ensure it doesn't happen. But Teh forgot who Oh was, and I also did. We all screamed from the top of our lungs that Teh would give up his place for Oh but we just forgot about a specific part of that equation: Oh's reaction. I thought it'd be easy; Oh will realise too late what had occurred and Teh would have left by then and he'd run to the sunset and keep waiting for Teh, but nooo I forgot about how Resentful, Prideful and Angry Oh gets whenever he gets hurt by Teh (shown in episode 1). But before we go into Ohs state this episode, Let's look more at Teh in detail, try and understand him more in this episode when looking at our theme.

TEH: Reverse-Help and Self-Hindrance

Again our Chinese translation lessons become a tool for foreshadowing in this episode. From the beginning of the episode as we see Teh create the tutorial guide, and try and tutor Oh, we get foreshadowing titles/translations such as the word for Reverse Help and it's further emphasised with another translation the word for being a hindrance because of trying to help. As Teh goes through his devastating, and uncontrollable self regression, he tries to go into overdrive. First, he tries to keep his promise to the two people he's torn about;

For Tarn, he tries to retain his position as someone who loves her for 3 years, as someone who still wants what they have, as someone who is still the same .

For Oh he tries to keep the promise he made to him in episode 1 that he'd help him fulfil his dreams by tutoring.

Tutoring Chinese Translations Whilst Mistranslating Feelings

Tutoring Oh has always been his way of trying to make things make sense, for example when Oh told him he couldn't return back to their closeness as best friends in episode 1, Teh decides to show him that he will keep working on their friendship and proceeds to help him pass the exams by tutoring. Tutoring Oh becomes an excuse for Teh with everything, to get closer to him when he doesn't want to think, to avoid underlying issues whenever things seem hectic, and to spend as much time as he can to be near Oh without having to face the implications of it. Tutoring Oh is to make Oh learn how to translate Chinese so he can pass the exam to get to the University.

However, tutoring Oh being Teh's priority shows what he truly wants as his goals: to always be near Oh no matter what, to grow with Oh (for both of them to go the University together and fulfil their dreams) and to repay Oh for the time he hurt him when they were kids/enemies (insulting his dreams and making him self doubt). Teh puts the tutoring as a priority because he puts Oh as his number one, Ohs dreams are important to him, and that's all that matters even if things feel too much to handle. This is already why you see what happens to Teh during this episode, he starts to hyperfocus on that priority as he tries to avoid and avoid what is truly going and instead of helping all he does is make it worse:

Here are instances in episode 4 where Teh's over helping does nothing but make things worse for him and for the people he cares about;

TEHS REVERSE HELP TO OH

As mentioned, we have the tutoring. The whole obsession with Ohs dreams become more of an obstacle to Oh, who feels frustrated at Teh, who isn't understanding how he feels. Teh and Oh crossed the line and become more than friends after episode 3, but Teh tried to run away from Oh and then tried to pretend everything was okay. For Oh, Teh hyperfocused on the tutoring (ironic since again he's focusing only on Oh) but he was breaking and causing him to question everything because of his avoidance of the issue.

Both Oh and Tarn had no clue where they stood with Teh, and he didn't know how to tell them how he felt, because he himself didn't know. Remember the tutoring is all about translation and as I said before the show is all about the consequences of mistranslating feelings when young. When we are young, we don't understand how strong feelings can be, how painful, how confusing (if its someone you can't be with in your perspective) or how uncontrollable. Like Teh instead of trying to listen to the heart, we revert to logic to try and explain feelings and typically that leaves us with nothing but confusion and exhaustion. The more Teh kept running away and avoiding the subject, the more he was affecting both Oh and Tarn:

Tarn: Because she needed to study, she made it her priority that her aspirations mattered to her that's why she held of their relationship for 3 years despite liking Teh, her aspirations were more important. But now Teh was making her revert to someone who couldn't stop thinking about their attraction to each other; the more Teh led her on, the more her feelings were becoming a hindrance to her aspirations( trying to help but being a hindrance). But again Ironic because Teh was trying to help her too, he was trying to 'do right' by her by not changing what they have, he was trying to stay by her side even though he was no longer there in the present for her.

Oh: Because he was starting to realise that just like Teh everything revolved around him, he was beginning to become hurt, self-hating and resentful towards everyone and Teh. He was beginning to lose the zeal to keep on struggling for his exams (Teh revived his hope thus without Teh everything was beginning to seem useless), and he was starting to feel broken-hearted each time Teh avoided the situation. Oh was realising his dependency on Teh but it frightened him because it could be gone, it could all go wrong, and Teh still had Tarn. He was starting to be exhausted with everything because when he tried to keep his promise (to keep them a secret), Teh refused to treat it like that, Teh kept on pulling his hopes up and then destroying them, and he became tired of it.

: The tutorial guide

This brings us to the tutorial guide. Damn, the way my heart screamed for Teh during this. One because as his mother put it, Teh spent nights, days recreating a tutorial guide with 1000 words for Oh to learn for the exam. By tearing out parts of his own revision guides, he used it to create a version that was understandable/ easy to understand. This is clearly a metaphor for what he was doing again with his over helping by tearing/ giving out parts of himself to create different versions of himself for the people he cared about, so it was easy for them to deal with his change.

The guide was beautiful; you could see the care, the effort, the time he put into it because Tehs priority as mentioned was Oh, Ohs dream and Oh being near him. The guide represented what Teh was trying to do all episode, to make everything easy, pleasing and understanding for everyone. Teh went into overdrive with the tutorial guide because it was the only thing he could do to again avoid and run away from what was going on, on the surface.

Now at first, this tutorial guide seems helpful just like Tehs intentions, and it brings Oh back to him. Oh forgives him and they reunite, even proceeding to continue their relationship like before, talking, returning to their beach and doing what they wanted with each other. Except we see later at the end of the episode, all Tehs hard work was for nothing. Oh was resentful because Teh brought his hopes up once again, but refused to deal with the situation again. The tutorial guide instead of being a helping guide to Oh became a waste, it led to Oh even retreating and avoiding to study for the exam because he was heartbroken. Oh did not use the tutorial guide and did not show up for the exam.

Meanwhile, Teh realises how much he gave to Oh that was wasted and couldn't be retrieved, for example, he later discovers he has to study for the exam only to see empty tatters of his previous revision guide (himself), he'd given everything to Oh, and it was wasted.

Tehs acting position

This is why Teh giving up his place for Oh with the application is just so sensitive. It's romantic how much Oh is Teh's priority. From episode 1, we've gotten a repetition that getting past this application was Tehs vision, everything he wanted since he was a child. Again we see the evolution of all this; he spent so many years studying, practising, preparing for his acting dreams. His mum did all she could to show him how proud she was of him, his brother worked hard to save money to provide plane tickets and cash for his university dream. Everyone put effort into helping Teh and pushing Teh to his goal. And it's heartwrenching to see him give it all up.

Us romanticists squealed and hoped that Oh would understand, that this was the first steps for our two to return back together. There's still the exam, we thought, Teh and Oh will reunite, they'll be together, in University, we'll run to the sunset together and scream after that is done except, instead of Oh to see it as a gift, he calls Teh out, he's insulted, he's annoyed, and he's frustrated. He's not going to accept it, he's going to relinquish it.

Again all Teh did was a waste. And it's worse because this was the final thing he could give up for Oh to be near him, it was the last thing he could give of himself in an attempt to make things go back to normal, the final thing he could do to have Oh forgive him. And by the end, Teh is truly mentally, psychologically, and physically exhausted and gone. There's no more to give, no more to help, he lost it all, and he still couldn't figure out why.

In an attempt to help everyone, to revert everything to normal Teh is the person who's the most broken and lost. It's to Oh on the surface with his actions, but he's also trying to help/ impress everyone else as well:

His family:

His mum who has made it a thing of how helpful Tehs brother has been in her life. Their father isn't here, and Tehs mum is someone who relies on her sons' dreams and actions to provide a sense of success in her life. For Teh he couldn't live up to his brother, but once he told his mother about his dreams about being an actor she rejoiced and boasted to all her friends about it; she was proud, immensely excited and driven to push him to his dreams.

So when Teh realises that his mum will also be proud that he had a girlfriend like his brother, another form of success, he regresses back to this thoughts, he still needed Tarn to impress his mother, he was reminded of his previous goals, to impress her and be seen as equal to his brother. So he tries to keep what he and Tarn had as normal to keep making everyone around him 'happy', and 'impressed' except it led to Oh hurt.

It's like a sad game of choices; if he chooses Oh, everyone else he's trying to impress falls apart; for example, the revelation when he decided to give up on the acting application, it wasn't just him affected, everyone had put their hopes and excitement on it, and he ended up losing their praise and support.

In fact, he came face to face with the thing he was trying to avoid, his mother proceeds to harshly compare him with his brother (I thought she was so out of line for this) and she finally shows him that all his fears and notions on this were real. His mum had been seeing him as a failure compared to his brother it just sucked.

If he chose them, he lost Oh again he saw that happen when he tries to revert all he had with Oh back to normal, he broke Ohs self-esteem and made Oh go into self-hate and despair. He, on the other hand, was also just as broken, confused and defeated.

In the end, the sick game of choices, as he tried to impress everyone Teh became a shell of nothing, no support, no praise, no love (both losing Tarn and Oh) and no aims (losing his path to his dreams and his confidence).

Self-sabotage, hindrance, and regression

So you see Teh becomes a mess because of his failure to translate his feelings correctly. The obstacles to him being able to do so causes him to try and do so in a logical way; trying to split his self and please everyone. He becomes self-sabotaging, and as Tarn tells him he only ends up hurting himself, losing everything he tried to hold on to, and he also ends up becoming a regressed version of himself with nothing to lean on (in his perspective).

It hurts because these are the results of Internalised homophobia, the results of a society that has made people like Oh and Teh feel like they have to hide and hate who they are at a young age, the effects of immaturity and young age; not able to understand or deal with feelings, not being able to know what they mean or able to control how we act when it comes.

It's all consequences of falling in love so young. And as much as falling in love is worth it when you meet the one, it sucks that some LGBTQ+ have to go through obstacles and hindrances and more pain just to understand or get to the person they are meant to be with. It sucks. Thank you to ITSAY for teaching us all about this, for showing us this, for making us realise all this.

In a way we all can end up like Teh's cut out revision guide, if we don't have enough self-love, confidence, or trust in our feelings, we can end up tearing parts of our selves, losing our selves, dreams and perceptions because of mistranslating who we are/what we want. Luckily this is all to do with age, it's okay to make mistakes and learn from it, this will now push Teh to understand and accept himself for whatever he is, and what he feels, this will open his eyes to seeing he has people by his side who won't let him fall (Hoon, and hopefully Oh) and this will make him stronger, confident and braver. And finally, hopefully, it will lead him once again to the person he loves, and they'd be able to run to the sunset together and scream that they made it. One can only hope.

PREVIOUS ANALYSIS: PROMISES, SUNSETS AND MALE PROTAGONISTS

PREVIOUS ANALYSIS; XIN THE FOCUS OF THE HEART

#itsay #i told sunset about you #thai bl #teh x oh-aew #bkpp #bl series #bilkin putthipong #pp krit #thai drama #november #cwg #fvete #bilkin x pp

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neutron-stars-collision · 4 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 19 - Holy Ground

Masterlist; Chapter 18

Summary: In the days before the mission in Tallinn, you and Neil have a few conversations to clear the air of doubts. Only, the mission itself proves to be a disruption...

Warnings: Swearing; mild violence.

Author’s Notes: Here we go, my favourite mission (and favourite Neil outfit too). This is only part one of the Tallinn action because so much happens... as you’ll see. I’m sorry. I really am. Hope you enjoy and please leave me feedback if you feel like it!

Song mentioned is: ‘Holy Ground’ by Within Temptation (I’ll share it in a post later but basically listen to it after reading and you’ll know why I’m obsessed)

Edit is courtesy of my amazing friend @sh3tani once again (ilysm and thanks for everything 💕)

The upcoming days were busy. You have been assigned the task of getting hold of some of the vehicles and artillery TP wanted for the heist in Tallinn. It was difficult, not only because it is actually rather hard to acquire a fire truck with no records left from the transaction, but also because you barely had any clue what you were actually doing. And so, most of the time, you were sat at the dining table in the flat, calling various shady people Neil gave you contacts to. Sometimes, a tea would appear in front of you, courtesy of the other team members thoroughly apologizing for how they handled the ‘alley situation’.

It seemed like your late-night walk and the cold treatment you gave everyone (including Neil) for the next 24 hours afterward worked. The jokes have ended, and contrition took their place, usually in the form of extreme helpfulness, random acts of kindness, and, in Neil’s case, a break from teasing. At least for a short while.

The only development you were not so sure of was the fact that the whole team decided to label your relationship. Not just any label but dating, verging on a couple. And that was rather terrifying. It struck you especially the night before when you have minded your own business in the kitchen. Watching over the pasta boiling on the stove, you listened to the plans made by Ives. He was trying to settle on the best way to track Neil during the heist when he suddenly turned to you with a question:

“Has your boyfriend told you what kind of car they are going for in the end?” the neutral tone made you skim over the term at first.

But then your brain caught up. What?! You almost toppled over the whole pot of pasta onto the floor when trying to drain it. Fuck. Ives was staring at you quizzically, as though confused about your current state.

“I… Who?” you stammered out the question, knowing it will only make everything worse.

“Neil” Ives grinned, “Unless you’ve gone for an open relationship and there’s another boyfriend involved”

“Christ, please stop” sighing, you tried to calm down just enough to function “I believe he’s going for a BMW, don’t know what series but something fast enough just in case there was a chase” triumphantly, you poured the sauce over the noodles.

“I’ll need to give him a call about it” Ives smacked his tongue thoughtfully.

“Feel free” using the opportunity, you grabbed the cutlery and escaped into your room.

Boyfriend? Now that was something to cause anxiety. Because despite everything that happened, all the things you have told Neil and got in return, you had no clue what you were supposed to be. Not really. Yes, sometimes you let yourself entertain the idea that maybe you were together, maybe he was your lover. But… was he? Could he ever be that?

With those thoughts occupying your mind, you only managed to last until afternoon the next day before giving in. After failing to contact a car dealer for the fifth time and realising that you have completely messed up the route plan due to forgetting about important details, you closed the laptop. It was hard to think when all your brain did was give reasons for why Neil would never actually want to be with you. To summarise: you were not enough, naïve, hopeless, and dumb enough to think that someone this incredible could think about you seriously. Stifling the sudden desire to breakdown and give up on everything, you dialed his number. He picked up almost instantly.

“Yes, my love?” your heart clenched at the nickname.

“Hi… um… Do you have a moment?” you cringed at the awkwardness.

“For you? Always”

Maybe, on another day, that would have made you smile. But that was not that kind of a day.

“Neil, I’m serious,” sighing, you rested your head on the cold wall behind your bed.

“What’s wrong?” his tone switched from playful to concerned.

Okay… now there’s no turning back.

“I’ve just been thinking...” you started, debating on the best way to breach the topic.

“Oh no”

Damn him. You cracked a small smile, knowing that was the intention. You could almost picture him at this moment, sat in some absolutely strange position in the armchair, nothing but long legs and ruffled hair. You did have it pretty bad.

“Shut up” you took a deep breath and blurted out “It’s probably stupid, and feel free to ignore this but... what even are we?”

There it is. Your whole existence hanged on his reply. But, of course, Neil needed more clarification than that…

“How do you mean?” his careful tone made your heart rate elevate.

The result was a string of sentences you shot out with the speed of a machine gun.

“Because everyone here assumes we’re dating. And Ives called you my boyfriend last night, and I don’t... I don’t know if that’s what’s going on and-”

“Okay, calm down,” he interrupted your rant “Take a deep breath” he waited until he could hear you exhale to continue “What do you want this to be? Because we’re the only people who have a say about it” the diplomatic tone made you frown.

But then maybe he just wanted to get your point of view before saying anything substantial… Trouble was you had no clue. Picking on a loose thread on your sweater, you sighed:

“I don’t know” maybe this was the right time to give him another piece of mind? “I always hated labels because when you name something, it becomes real” you admitted, letting yourself slide down onto the pillows.

Nothing could hurt you there. Apart from potential rejection from the likely love of your life. Basically, fml, as the kids say.

“What about good things?” his question caught you off guard.

“Well, yeah, but… once there’s a couple, then there can be a break-up” the insecurity had an answer for that too.

Your cheeks heated up upon saying the word. Because even that felt like a step too far. Like maybe you were clingy. Obnoxious. Someone he could want to get rid of as quickly as possible. Before you decided to back out of the conversation, he replied:

“That’s a rather bleak way of looking at things” it was still that thoughtful tone.

A burden then.

“I know” you groaned, frustrated with yourself.

But the next thing he said was rather surprising…

“I’ll need to work on making you more optimistic. Not because I don’t like you the way you are, but because I want you to realise how wrong you are sometimes” the conviction and practical implications of the statement made you speechless.

The future tense. The admission that he did like you, with your countless issues and overbearing anxiety. It couldn’t be, could it? Neil took your stunned silence as permission to say more:

“From my side, let me say that dating doesn’t quite cut it because it implies not being sure... And…” despite yourself, your ears perked up, wanting to know what he meant.

“Yeah?” you prodded, trying to toe that precarious line between curiosity and fear of rejection.

“I’m not really in the trial stages anymore. Don’t think I’ve ever been” he clearly wanted to tell you more but was holding back.

Maybe it was for the better. Before you could think about a response to that, Neil added:

“Basically, we don’t have to use any labels. We’re just us” the simplicity of that statement broke through your resolve, making tears well up “Me and you. We know best what that implies and no one else matters” quietly, you sobbed, and he laughed before choosing to put that final nail in the metaphorical coffin “You’re my love, and that’s the only nickname I need” Neil sounded happy, as though despite your worries, he wanted to say that “I can be your idiot, as long as I’m yours” the punchline came with an audible smug smile.

Oh my god. You laughed, with tears still silently falling down your cheeks and heart hammering in your chest. He was impossible. Absolutely impossible. Suddenly asking that crucial question was not that scary. Because maybe today was the day when would tell you, without alcohol or worries prompting the confession. Taking the plunge, you spoke:

“Neil, do you-”

“Yes, I do,” he interrupted you with an answer.

“I haven’t even asked the question” you frowned, unsure whether that kind of an answer was better than a confession.

Because, yes, he already said it once (almost twice), but both those have been anything but thoughtful. And your ever doubting brain was quick to use that fact against you.

“But I know the answer” he sounded certain.

Perhaps too certain.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to tell you over the phone” Neil sighed heavily on the other end “Listen, I have to go… but call me or text if you need to talk” he hesitated before adding, “No matter what I want you to remember what I said that night in London”

Oh… It was the first time any of you brought it up. You just assumed it was one of the things that just slipped out in an unguarded moment. You wanted it to be true, but then that was too risky. But maybe not…?

“I heard you” you whispered despite being alone in the room.

“I know” you could picture the soft smile he sometimes gave you “Goodbye, my love. Good luck with work” at the reminder of the piles of papers still waiting, you groaned, causing him to laugh.

“Will be needed since what you’ve assigned me is close to impossible” the change of the topic was dearly welcomed.

Grabbing the laptop again, you opened it up and felt all the motivation dissolve upon the sight of the route waiting to be planned. Coffee will be needed. And maybe whiskey too.

“I believe in you,” Neil broke your brooding with a comment, “And it’s not really me who assigned it” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot” unable to stop the grin on your face, you ended the call.

So maybe it was worth calling… Even if only to learn that he was in fact yours. And that he did not mind your insecurity or moments of anxiety. Maybe all this had some more potential than heartbreak and tragedy? Ignoring all the thoughts, you focused on the workload. After all, someone had to get all those bloody vehicles on time for the boys to play with.

*** The closer it got to the day, you could feel the tensions rising within the team. Partially it was your own fault and the fact that you were nervous. The plan was vague enough. What you and Ives’ squad knew was that TP intended to take over the plutonium 241 on the move, specifically on the highway leading out of the city. For some reason, he needed a fire truck and a firefighter suit for that. You had no clue why, but you blamed it on the boyish dreams of being a firefighter. Sure they all had those.

Neil was simply the designated driver and mission coordinator, and you hoped that meant he would stay out of harm. As much as that was possible for an idiot like him. You were not allowed to meet to stop TP from getting suspicious, and so all you could do was rely on texts and daily phone calls to keep you from going insane. The downside of the situation was that you could not slap Neil when he said questionable things. Examples being referring to the heist car as sexy (“And what if I told that it’s not the BMW that’s sexy?” “I’d be flattered”) and calling you his girlfriend on the call with Ives. That second incident resulted in the squad leader acting all smug because he apparently ‘figured it all out’. He did not, but who were you to prove him wrong.

And so, you perfected the plan, finished all the assigned tasks, and waited on instructions concerning the day of the mission. When they came, the message was simple – sit on your assess and wait, just in case the Cavalry was needed. You did not specifically like that ‘waiting’ part. Especially since Ives began insisting that you do not actually join them in the field. In his mind, the safest place for you was the flat. Not being a part of the squad and not having enough experience were the main factors acting against you. And you hated the fact that he was right. That is until the evening before the mission when an unexpected text from TP came. You were busy trying to understand the rules of a strange competition show on the television when your phone buzzed. Expecting something nonsensical from Neil, you picked it up instantly. Only to get shocked by the number on display. The message was straightforward:

“Join the squad in the field in Tallinn. You must be there”

Right… When you were asking the universe for help, you did not expect that. But it was better than nothing.

Without a further ado, you got up and wandered over to Ives, who was sat with Wheeler and Michael at the table. Upon your approach, the Brit looked up:

“Don’t tell me you’ve got some last-minute changes from Neil” his blue eyes were hazed with concern.

“No, I’ve got something better” you passed him the phone and waited for a response.

The widened stare and arched eyebrow was the initial reaction.

“He wouldn’t have sent if it wasn’t important” you added, hoping to win the case.

“I don’t get it” Ives sighed heavily, leaning back in the chair.

He glanced at Michael, who nodded and left the room. You just assumed that the discussion was not meant for any ordinary squad member.

“Apologies for my language, but you’re not a bloody soldier, and it might get rough out there” Ives spoke up again after a beat “And I don’t want to fucking worry about your safety amidst all the other mess” he met your gaze warily.

It was a little embarrassing to be considered a burden. You flinched internally before trying another approach.

“I know, but Neil might need me” as soon as you said the words, Ives scowled.

Of course, that just sounded like a lovesick teenager fighting for a hopeless case. And you hated that. But his very next words triggered the remains of resolve.

“Frankly, darling-”

You broke into a laugh, knowing the quotation well.

“I swear, if you quote Gone with the Wind right now, I’ll do something stupid” as a warning, you grabbed hold of the knife lying on the table, making Wheeler snicker quietly “Please, let me go out there. I can track his GPS signal or something. And well, you know that I’ve got a good aim. It might count for something” pleading was not your forte either but at the end of the speech, Ives’ gaze softened.

Maybe? He sighed once again before leaning his forehead on the folded forearms on the table.

“If you get hurt, he’ll kill me” he muttered gloomily.

“You’re exaggerating” you bit back a dry chuckle.

“No, he’s not” your head snapped up at the sound of Wheeler’s voice “But I’ve got to back you here if TP sent that text, then it’s probably important” she looked at you with a small smile.

“Thank you” you grinned back, grateful for the support.

With the days spent among men almost exclusively, Wheeler’s company meant a lot. Soon she became the only person you were willing to discuss your worries with. Because she was not keen on cracking dumb jokes about your relationship and asked questions that did not only concern Neil. And that was a welcomed change.

“You really need to be careful though, because Neil cares about you. Which probably makes you the most important person on this squad” her voice broke through your thoughts.

You knew she meant well, but the statement still made your cheeks heat up. Because did he really care?

“Don’t. You’re making me all flustered” deciding you’ve had enough of the awkwardness you got up to fix a tea.

“Well, I’m only speaking the truth here” turning back to the table, you saw Wheeler shrug “The physics boy took his fancy upon you, and that’s no funny business” she grinned at your perplexed expression.

Briefly, you glanced at Ives, who seemed to have given up on fighting with you and instead was listening in to the conversation with a neutral facial expression. The kettle boiling was your cue to respond:

“Great” semi-aggressively, you threw the tea bag into the mug poured the water “Did he though?” you asked, not even looking at them or expecting an answer.

“Yep,” Wheeler stood up and gave you a quick reassuring shoulder squeeze.

“I’ve never seen him like this before” Ives added once you turned to face him again.

That tea could not brew any longer…

“Not even with…” you hesitated before adding quietly, “Alex?”

“Not quite,” the man gave you an enigmatic smile, only increasing your frustration “You’ve convinced me though. You’re coming with us. Just please, for the sake of my sanity, be careful out there” you resisted the urge to jump up in relief “Because I’d rather not deal with an angry Neil. He’s a pain in the ass enough” Ives added darkly before getting up and joining you by the kitchen counter.

Smiling, you finished the tea.

“Thanks. I’ll do my best” playfully, you nudged his shoulder with yours “You can always blame me though” picking up the mug, you turned towards the corridor.

“As though he’d care” Ives muttered at your back.

The sudden surge of confidence was surprising yet also inspiring:

“I’d make him care. There are some things even he can’t say no to”

The last thing you heard upon closing the door to the bedroom was Ives choking on water.

*** The Tallinn mission for you began with an early morning phone call from Neil. You got as far as getting out of bed after having been staring at the ceiling anxiously for the past three hours when the phone rang.

“Morning,” you muttered, stifling a yawn.

Espresso was certainly needed. Maybe two, before you would have to head out.

“Hey,” the soft tone felt like a mild punch “I’m glad you’re up already” Neil’s sleepy voice made you wish you could wake up together again.

There was always that slightly husky tinge to it, the way he lazily pronounced some words just because it was early still. So different from the enthusiastic overenunciation when he was preaching another messed up plan of his. Or the cheeky inflections he tended to use with you during banter. It was terrifyingly easy to get to know him that well because of how open he was with you.

“I couldn’t sleep. But it’s okay I’ll manage” you admitted, distracting yourself from the sudden thoughts “I didn’t tell you last night, but I got another text from TP… he wants me to join the squad today”

From the moment you have shut the bedroom door the previous night, you have debated calling Neil about it. But then he initiated another rather amusing texting exchange focusing on his fashion choices, and you felt bad disrupting the peace. It could wait. Not anymore. You held your breath until Neil responded with a simple question:

“Why?” he was careful, and you could not blame him for it.

You perched on the windowsill and looked out at the quiet cityscape. The streets were strangely empty for a weekday morning. Sighing, you answered in the best way possible:

“I don’t know, but Ives said yes after some coaxing, so I might see you out there” smiling despite yourself, you waited for his response.

Since recently you had to rely on phone calls, it became increasingly easy to determine his mood based on the tone of the reply. Or on the various nonverbal noises he sometimes made. Now there was a quiet hum proceeding the sentence. A surprise, mild confusion, and worry. Brilliant.

“As much as I’m happy we might meet… and that you can see me in that sexy car,” you rolled your eyes awaiting the point “Please, be careful. I need you safe”

It was not disappointing. You knew he did not intend it that way, and yet the anxiety fuelled brain was onto it instantly. I need you… safe. Unable to stop the comment, you muttered:

“Just safe, then”

“What?” any hope that he might have missed it dissolved with that single question.

Could he for once not listen to what you say? You know, like men tended to do. But then Neil was by no means an ordinary man.

“Nothing. Don’t mind me” the attempt at saving your dignity failed too.

“I thought it goes without saying that I do need you. And that I want you”

Oh god. At once, you wanted to smash your head into the wall and to kiss the bastard for being the way he was. Adding to that sentence, the mental image of his sheepish smile was enough to make your heart speed up. When the silence stretched, becoming awkward, you whispered a reply.

“It’s good to hear it sometimes” the coldness of the window glass cooled off your blazed cheeks, “Especially when I don’t actually believe it” he knew that by now, undoubtedly.

Here the nonverbal cue was a half-choked sigh. Annoyance. Frustration.

“You should. I don’t go around telling everyone that” Neil’s confident voice was trying to pull you back “And I certainly don’t have moments as we do with anyone else” at the implication, you felt flustered again.

Because there did not an hour go by without you thinking about what happened. The pull between you was startling at times. The absolute desire you felt. The way Neil knew exactly how to make you remember every second of every moment. With the memories flooding your brain, you could only utter a single question:

“Why me?”

It was curiosity. Because apart from that evening months ago when you first tried to make sense of your budding relationship, he never said why he cared about you. And you would never dare ask. But now, with everything that happened, it was worth trying. And Neil was willing to deliver:

“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because you’re the bravest, kindest, most beautiful person I know” you could only keep on listening with your mouth agape “You fascinate me, and I want to discover all that you’re willing to give me” he finished in a reverent whisper.

That was not what you expected to hear. Not now. Not ever. Speechless, you wondered whether maybe this time it was not a mistake to give your heart away. It was too late. He had everything but your body; that was just a matter of time.

“Neil, I…” this was all you could manage, afraid you would give away another confession.

“Well, you’ve asked,” he chuckled lightly and then asked, “Are you okay?” you could picture that crease between furrowed eyebrows.

“I suppose-” a loud knock on your door interrupted the sentence; it was time, “I think I should probably join them for the final briefing…” hesitantly, you jumped off the sill.

Only two of you could be interrupted during such an important conversation.

“Go, I won’t keep you. Believe me, though, when I say that I want nothing but to be with you. In every way possible” your breath hitched at the connotation behind the sentiment.

Jesus, this man…

“That’s rather mutual,” like a secret you passed it to him on a sigh “But only when you’re not an ass” that was a much-needed distraction for you both.

There was work to be done, after all. You could hear the commotion in the apartment rise in volume and strength.

“I’ll do my best then. Good luck, darling” you grinned at the nickname he was determined to use.

Darling, you could do with. It was better than the ‘love’ that always made you feel like you were just another one among many.

“Don’t do anything stupid I still owe you a few slaps… and a payback” you added the necessary suggestive tone to the last word.

The rest was up to him to figure out. Which he did, if the pleased laughed was anything to go by.

“I’m very much looking forward to all of those” you missed that smirk.

“You should. Bye, my idiot,” you debated saving his number as that in your phone.

Maybe it was the way forwards.

“My love,” laughing, you ended the call when he uttered the words just for the sake of it.

But then that was Neil’s essence – doing things just because. Or to get a reaction from you. And you would not have it any other way.

*** Only when sitting in that bloody SUV, you learned the true meaning of waiting. And how much you hated to do that. There was nothing to do apart from sweating in the protective gear and avoiding the awkward small talk others were susceptible to. The squad has cramped into two non-descript vehicles, and you being the so-called precious cargo, ended up in the same car with Ives who have sworn to protect you. Only, for the first half-hour, there was nothing to protect you from. Apart from anxiety, boredom, and frustration.

Your role was rather simple – follow Neil’s signal on the map to know where you might be needed should he call for backup. As much as you did enjoy the possibility of tracking his movements somehow, you did not appreciate the cheeky smile Ives had on his face when he gave you the job. Or the comment combined with it: “Well, he’s your boyfriend, it’s only fair you keep him on the metaphorical leash here”. That is how the small blinking dot on the map of Tallinn became your sole focus for the past hour. Just before everything kicked off, Neil radioed you with a simple message: The mission is about to start. Wait for further instructions.

Ever since your morning phone call and the revelations that came out, you only exchanged a few texts concerning the practicalities of the action. Despite the nerves, you did hope to see him in near future. Even if just to check whether what he said was true. Looking for a distraction from the sudden thoughts, you glanced at the screen again. They were near, on the main junction of the highway, heading towards the port. Your SUVs were parked underneath a small overpass, five minutes away in the current traffic conditions. Which proved to be convenient, as it turned out.

“Is he still following the set route?” Ives’s question brought you to the present moment.

“Yeah, they’re-” you glanced to double-check the exact location when you realised that something has changed.

The dot was not moving. It was still blinking, but clearly, they have stopped at a crossing. Traffic lights? Your brain somehow knew that it could not be that simple. You opened your mouth to voice the thoughts when the comm came alive on the dashboard with static crackling:

“We need back up here. ASAP”

“Roger that” Ives tossed you the radio “Ask him about the details”

Without waiting for more information, Michael fired up the SUV engine as Ives contacted the second vehicle.

“Neil” you spoke into the receiver “What happened?” you flinched at the louder noise from the radio.

Gunshots?

“We’ve been ambushed by Sator’s people. TP’s status unknown”

Bloody brilliant. Swallowing down the rising worries, you asked another question:

“How many people?” another gunshot pierced the silence.

“Not sure. They’ve gotten clean up orders” a strained breath from Neil told you how bad the situation was.

“Okay. We’ll be there soon” you glanced at the road ahead.

Still, 2 mins to go. Anxiety was threatening to overpower you at any moment. But now was not the time.

“Hurry up” Neil closed the channel with a final dose of static.

Fuck… Forcing a deeper breath, you could only watch as you got closer to him. The sheer thought of something happening to Neil was unimaginable. That was enough to trigger panic. So you pushed the idea to the back of your head, focusing on the distance disappearing.

There was no mistaking the fact that you have been led to the right place. Crashed cars, asphalt littered with glass shards and broken parts, gunshots piercing the air. The destination looked like a car pile-up from an action sequence. Frantically looking through the windows, you tried to spot that blonde head. To no avail. The SUV came to a sharp halt as the squad members began jumping out of the vehicle. Once everyone else disembarked, you moved to follow them, only to be stopped by Ives:

“You’re staying here. I can’t have you out in the shoot-out” his blue gaze was stern, hand blocking exit out of the car.

The idea that you were so close to Neil and could not see him was enough to make you angry.

“I can handle myself. And he’s-” you spit out the words in the face of the squad leader while trying to push him away.

“I said no. The conversation’s over” with a final glare, he stepped away and scanned the horizon for immediate danger “If someone approaches the car, you know what to do,” he threw as a parting remark and disarmed the rifle.

Fucking hell! Groaning in frustration, you kicked one of the seats. He was so close. You glanced at the device in your hand. He could not be further than behind the first line of crashed cars. Biting on your lip harshly, you quickly went over the options. One was to obey Ives and stay inside the bloody SUV like a well-behaved child everyone apparently took you for. No one seemed to care about the vehicles you parked on the outskirts of the action. Flinching at the further salve from the heavy artillery, you knew that the squad had joined the fray. You could be safe here… but… Taking a deep breath you knew there was no possibility you could stay away from the action. Not when Neil was there, potentially in danger. It was not possible to give up on someone that important just because you were told to. Christ…

Glancing through the windows again, you could see Sator’s people attempting to clear the place. The squad evidently attempted to push at them from one side, hoping to get a clean sweep that way. Then, just as you were about to go back to the internal crisis overwhelming your thoughts, you did a double-take. Surely not? You would recognize that hair colour everywhere. There he was attempting what was looking like a skirting manoeuvre to circle the mercenaries with the Cavalry on the opposite side. Only that left him completely uncovered, in the direct line of fire. Bloody idiot. The instinct to jump out and run to him kicked in. The only thing holding you back was the fact that you would disobey the orders. And leave the car unguarded. All the hesitation disappeared once the comm in the car crackled with static:

“Emergency assistance needed. ASAP” the tension in his voice made your pulse quicken.

The lack of response from the team made all the blood drain from your face. You could see him trying to hide behind some overturned car. The henchmen were near enough to get him with no problem.

That thought was all the convincing you needed. Swearing, you quickly pocketed the tracking device, adjusted your protective gear, and grabbed the gun. You have been offered a rifle (just in case), but you preferred the classic. At least it was something right?

In two leaps, you have covered the distance. With the team trying to get through the attack line on the other side, it was just you and Neil. You shot a round in the direction of the approaching merc, missing the target yet earning attention from the main object of your focus. His eyes met yours across the plane. You could see shock, worry, and something else there. Suddenly a salve whizzed past you. The bullets cutting through the air all around, shooting past your head and piercing the car behind. A strangled yell from Neil was a surprising reaction, yet you did not blink twice. He was all you could see. With a final surge through the field, you reached him. The pure fury and anguish in his eyes took you aback. Have you missed something? But there was no time to ask questions.

“Go, I’ll cover you” you whispered, looking at the approaching group of mercs.

Neil took an additional moment to stare at you as though he could not quite believe you were there. But then he jumped up, aiming the gun at the man closest to you. The same that undoubtedly attempted to take you out seconds prior. When the mercenary fell with a bullet in the head, you stared in shock. There was no time to recover as Neil pushed through, barely looking behind at you. It was surprisingly easy to tune out the emotions, taking out anyone who could threaten him or halt your advances. You worked well together, movements in sync enough to stun the opponents on a few occasions. For a second, you wondered whether it was only bound to get better the closer you get to each other. That was certainly an interesting idea… In no time you have met with the line of the squad, watching on as Ives dealt with the last man standing. You have won. The adrenaline started to leave your body, resulting in tremors and shaking hands. Clutching the gun to prevent it from cluttering to the ground, you met the exasperated gaze of the squad leader. Your only response was a shrug. You did not regret the decision, seeing as you have evidently helped them in the field.

“Neil? Do you know where TP is?” Ives took his attention off you and looked at the blonde man.

You followed his gaze, for the first time actually looking at Neil since you spotted him across the plane. At the moment, you were struck by what a sight he was. Navy shirt with sleeves rolled up to expose the forearms covered with veins. The same tie he had on during your walk. Your pulse quickened. The vest drawing attention to the ratio between his broad shoulders and narrow hips, accentuated with a belt. Brown loose-cut trousers and scrapped leather shoes adding a classy touch. You were aware that you were staring yet unable to look away. Not knowing whether to blame it on the adrenaline rush, you wanted nothing but to touch him. Take off those driving gloves that piqued your interest at the first sight. Or have them be wrapped around your throat with just enough pressure. Get rid of the tie again. And…

“Think Sator took him” Neil’s response broke through your increasingly hazy thoughts.

Shaking off the images that started appearing, you looked up at his face again. The ruffled hair and flushed cheeks were not helpful. Fuck’s sake. It had to be stress. Because what else?

“Their place in the port?” Ives asked, his tone nothing but strict business.

“That’s my bet” Neil shrugged, looking around with something dark in his eyes.

He was tense, like a feral animal that could lash out any moment. You were not wrong. The cold blue gaze settled on you almost remorsefully, but before you could open your mouth, he snapped:

“What the fuck were you thinking?” the hostile edge to his voice was new.

You flinched as though you have been hit. The lack of physical impact did not matter. Your heart stammered. He need not explain what it was about. Please no.

“You needed a cover. They weren’t responding, so I did the obvious” you shrugged, feeling the anger grow “And I could ask you the same question” spitting the sentence into his face, you took a step closer.

You have never seen him that furious. Not even in Oslo after your little fuck-up. The sight was both terrifying and alluring. The dark blue eyes blazed with fury. Jaw clenched. Slight pink tint on the cheeks. And yet, still, you had no idea why he reacted like this.

“I knew what I was doing. That’s the difference” the coldness of his voice threw you off.

So it was real. He did mean it. You tried to save him, and here he was, pissed off at you. Making you almost regret it. Almost, because the love was there too. Not giving away no matter what.

“That’s bullshit” it felt good to admit, “You were reckless, as always, and expecting me to-” your rant got interrupted by a strangled yell.

Nothing prepared you for the revelation then. Or the sudden anguish on his face.

“You were almost shot!” Neil’s eyes glistened as though he was close to tears.

Suddenly it made sense. The rain of bullets you were hit with just before getting to him. The way he reacted. But you made it. Nothing happened. So why was he acting like that?

“Almost” ignoring the growing pain in your chest, you pointed out the obvious.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Ives and the rest of the squad observing you. You would rather not have an audience, but then Neil seemed determined to drive his point forward. His face scrunched into a pained scowl.

“Fucking hell,” turning away from your gaze, his back tensed even more “You can’t do shit like that just because I’m involved” the defensive tone took you aback.

What? It was getting worse. You could feel the confidence leaving your body as you struggled for a response. You would never think Neil would do something like that. Not after everything you have told him. Figuring out the only way you that could work, you took your own line of attack.

“Who says I did it only because it was you?” the implication hurt because it was partially correct “Quite an ego you’ve got there” his back was still turned to you.

That angered you even more. Crossing the distance, you placed your hand on his shoulder, making him turn to you. He flinched upon the contact as though your touch burned him. Oh my god. The tears welled up in your eyes. It could not be real. But the emotionless look in the eyes you thought you knew was very much real. It was as though before you realised Neil has built up a wall, guarding himself against you. And there was nothing you could do to get through. You got shocked by the cruel smirk that split his face.

“I can see the way you look at me. As though you wanted to-” you interrupted him sharply.

“Neil”

It was too much. Perhaps because it was true. But he was not done. Persistent to keep going.

“Admit it. It’s because you said some things, and now you can’t bear the thought of losing the object of your affection” the careless tone and the words pierced your heart with gut-wrenching pain “Well, you see, sometimes feelings need to be put aside” he added, almost casually.

Fuck. You gasped, unable to keep a straight face. He might as well see what he has done. Some things. So this is how much your confession meant to him. Good to know. You wanted to slap him, but you felt like that could turn back on you. So instead, you made sure to straighten your back, putting on the familiar mask of neutrality. You have done this before. Probably should have expected it. Only why did it hurt ten times more?

“Can we leave the bloody lovers quarrel till later?” Ives’s voice pierced through the tension.

But you were not ready. Raising your hand in a stopping motion, you turned back to Neil. His face was terrifyingly indifferent. Maybe it was all an act. Or maybe it was just that easy for him to get over whatever you thought you had. A lie. Gathering the smithereens of confidence, you forced a levelled tone:

“Says you. As though you’re acting out of reason right now” you gave him your best impression of the sneer visible on his face.

You could crumble at any moment now. Only the pounding in your ears and the wounded pride were keeping you upwards. But Neil wanted to destroy everything.

“More than you” he glanced at the team waiting impatiently “I really thought you’d know better than this” the punchline was more than you could take.

No. Please no. Your knees buckled, and you swayed. But then you caught the flash of concern in his eyes. Just for a split of a second. So it was not all cold and hatred? You heard Ives huff out a string of curses. There was no time for this. Whatever it even was. Honesty it was then.

“Better than to give away my heart to someone like you? Evidently not” you met his eyes for the final time before walking away in the direction of the SUVs.

The shock you saw in Neil’s face was enough to fuel the survival instincts. With the heart broken or not, the mission was still on. And the rest was silence.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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writerbyaccident · 4 years

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Covetous: Part One (Yandere Tomura Shigaraki x Reader)

Request: A yandere shigaraki who falls for his friend's girlfriend when his friend first introduced her to him he liked her as a friend but he kept getting fond of her more and more till obsession. Cheers up whenever he sees her or his friend bring her with him, his family aren't that nice so he envy his friend and wants her to be with him. The friend and Reader aren't aware of it. (Shigg is a normal guy here not a villain) so how would he deal with it ?

Author’s Note: so for clarity, I made this piece a quirkless au make it fit with the premise more, hope that’s okay! Also, I’m thinking of doing another part of this, so please leave a comment or send a note to my inbox if you’d like to see that!

Trigger Warning: degrading language, Shigaraki being a sexist creep, implications of masturbation

Part Two

“C’mon man,” Spinner was saying, “please don’t be playing that when she comes over.”

Glancing up from his hentai game, Shigaraki scowled at his friend and roommate.

“Why the hell not?”

“Cause I don’t want my girlfriend seeing that perverted shit.”

“You mean you don’t want her to think you’re friends with a perv,” Shigaraki scoffed, bringing the game closer to his chest protectively.

“Well, yeah,” Spinner sighed. Shigaraki rolled his eyes at his friend’s admission, wondering just what the hell he was on to honestly care what some stupid slut thought of him or his friends. Yeah, Shigaraki hadn’t actually met you yet, but he was sure that you couldn’t be any different from any of the other girls he knew. Ones that either edged away from him as he came near, whispering nervously to their friends that some creep was making his way over, or ones that thought they were better than him, laughing loudly if he even looked at them. You would fit into one of those categories, Shigaraki was sure, all girls did. And as far as he was concerned, no girl was worth becoming some kind of simp over, no matter how much you were spreading your legs.

Ready to tell Spinner all that, Shigaraki opened his mouth, only to shut it again when he looked over at his roommate. Spinner was staring at him so earnestly, with his fidgeting hands betraying just how nervous he was about you coming over. Spinner might have been acting like an idiot, but Shigaraki just couldn’t bring himself to hurt his friend like that. Even if you would end up hurting him eventually, Shigaraki growled to himself.

“Fine,” Shigaraki answered. “If I’m still playing when she gets here, I’ll make sure to have it so she doesn’t see.”

“Thanks, bro,” Spinner said, knowing that was the best he would get. With that taken care of, Spinner went back to compulsively straightening up the apartment, trying to make it look as nice as possible for you. Rolling his eyes again at the lengths that his roommate was going to try to impress you, Shigaraki buried himself back into his game, dreading the moment when you would walk through the door and he’d have to play nice with a judgmental bitch.

He didn’t have very long to wait, with a soft knock sounding at the door just a few minutes later. Honestly, Shigaraki was tempted to hide out in his room until you left, but his stubbornness wasn’t about to allow him to let you take over his goddamn apartment. So instead he kept himself planted firmly on the couch, not even looking up as Spinner practically ran to the door and grinding his teeth as he listened to you two say hello.

“So this is my friend…” Spinner began to say, hesitating as he realized that he wasn’t sure if Shigaraki wanted to you to know his birth-given name, as he did with people he wanted to keep firmly at a distance, or the name he had given himself that he preferred his friends to use. Disappointed that he was going to be forced to talk to you, Shigaraki brought his gaze up from his game, landing it instead on where you were standing just a few feet away.

You…did not look how he expected you to. You weren’t sneering at him for one thing, weren’t looking at him with even the slightest hint of disgust. Smiling at him brightly, you honestly looked thrilled to meet him. And that, that made him feel…kinda nice.

“Tomura Shigaraki,” he found himself saying. “I already know your name though.”

“I hope Spinner didn’t bore you, talking about me,” you laughed, holding out your hand towards him. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

For a moment, Shigaraki simply stared blankly at your hand, a part of him worried that you might be trying to trick him. Still, his hand eventually moved of its own accord, reaching out to accept your handshake. When his hand finally touched yours though, Shigaraki only barely kept himself from cursing under his breath. Your skin was just so damn soft. Was the rest of you this soft?

“So what’re you playing?”

“What?” Shigaraki blurted, suddenly worried that you might have caught a glimpse of his game’s graphic images. For some reason, he no longer found the thought of you seeing it amusing. Although whether that was because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or because he didn’t want you to think he was a creep, he wasn’t exactly sure.

“What game are you playing?” you repeated yourself, not noticing the warning look that Spinner flashed his friend. “I don’t really play video games much, but I think the way some games are constructed is just so cool!”

“Oh, um, I’m just playing some new indie game right now. Dead Cells.” Out of the corner of his eye, Shigaraki spotted Spinner sigh silently in relief at his answer. But truthfully, Shigaraki couldn’t bring himself to really care all that much about his friend’s reaction. For some reason, he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of that one. What’s it about?”

“It’s—”

“Sorry,” Spinner interrupted, “but we’ve gotta get going if we want to make the movie.”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, babe. Well, again, it was really great meeting you, Shigaraki!”

Shigaraki didn’t say anything back, instead just nodding at you as you gave him a small wave goodbye. For some reason, the moment that he heard you call Spinner “babe,” Shigaraki’s throat closed up painfully.

*****************************

From that day onward, you became something of a fixture at Spinner’s and Shigaraki’s apartment. You would relax with Spinner on the couch when the two of you got out of work, have movie nights, and get takeout. After meeting you, Shigaraki still half-expected himself to retreat to his bedroom when you came over, only venturing out for snacks or the bathroom, but for whatever reason he found himself lurking around in the kitchen and the den. Sometimes Shigaraki would heed his friend’s pointed looks and leave you two alone, but more and more often he just couldn’t bring himself to. Part of the reason for that, Shigaraki argued, was probably because you were just so goddamn nice.

After you had left that first day, Shigaraki had tried to tell himself that your friendly demeanor was just an act, something you forced yourself to put on to make a good impression for your boyfriend. Even as he was telling himself that though, Shigaraki had a hard time believing it, with your warm eyes and sweet smile scorched into his mind. And any scraps of doubt that he had built up disappeared when he saw you again and you acted just the same, not just polite but actually kind, actually interested in what he had to say. You never made him feel like a third wheel either, never made him feel awkward when he saw you in his place or like he shouldn’t be there. That was something completely new for Shigaraki, he had never had someone in his life who was always, without fail, happy to see him, not with his family, not even with Spinner. So no, Shigaraki wasn’t going to walk away from you, from that feeling, just because Spinner told him to. Honestly, even if he wanted to, he wasn’t sure that he could.

When you showed up at the apartment before Spinner one day then, Shigaraki couldn’t help but be excited to have you all to himself for once. As soon as he cracked open the door and saw you standing there, he practically ripped it off its hinges in his rush to let you in. You didn’t seem to notice just how overeager he was to see you though, simply flashing him your usual kind smile as you walked inside with a covered pan in your arms.

“Hey, Shigaraki!” you greeted him happily. “Thanks for letting me in!”

“No problem,” he answered, mumbling just a bit. Then, even though he didn’t want to take your attention away from him, Shigaraki added, “Spinner’s not here right now though, he’s still at work.”

“Oh, I know. Can you keep a secret?” you grinned mischievously.

“Sure.”

“We were planning to just order a pizza tonight, but I thought it’d be nice to have something homecooked. So I made some chicken marsala to surprise him!”

“Why’d you bring it over early though?”

“Well, I was actually wondering if I could maybe use your stove to make the rice?” you asked shyly, your timid smile making Shigaraki’s heart oddly tight. “Mine’s out of commission. I’ll totally clean everything up!”

“I believe you,” Shigaraki laughed quietly. “Go right ahead.”

“Sweet, thanks!”

And so, Shigaraki walked you over to the kitchen, staring at you closely while you gathered up everything you needed. You had brought your own box of rice along in your bag, correctly assuming that neither of the boys would have one in their cupboards. You were able to find a measuring cup and a pot by some miracle though, and when you bent down to grab the latter from the bottom cabinet, Shigaraki’s eyes, by some strange will of their own, made their way towards your ass.

Shit, he thought to himself. Fucking shit.

Feeling the quickly growing tightness in his pants, Shigaraki tried to shake his head and turn away, reminding himself over and over that you were his friend’s girlfriend. But no matter how loudly he told himself that, he just couldn’t pull his gaze away from your tempting curves. It was only when you straightened back up that he was able to look away, though that was definitely more so you wouldn’t notice the way he was leering at you. For when you bent back down to turn on the oven and slip the chicken inside, his eyes found you again immediately. His gaze traced over your legs, devouring each bare inch of them until he reached the hem of your teasingly short dress and imagined what it would be like to run over every inch of your skin with his hands. With his tongue.

Some part of Shigaraki knew that any other person would call him a bad friend—not to mention disgusting—for the way he was drooling over you. But really, he couldn’t bring himself to care. How could he possibly waste time feeling conflicted when there were so many inches of you to explore?

Even when you stood up again and turned back towards him, Shigaraki still couldn’t stop staring, surreptitiously glancing up at you from his handheld every few seconds. His ogling went completely unnoticed by you though, your focus on digging through your bag for something elusive. A moment later, you found what you were looking for and pulled it out in triumph: it was an apron. Not just any old apron though, Shigaraki noted. No, this one was soft and frilly, with a light pink checked pattern that Shigaraki already knew you would look downright adorable in. His crimson eyes wide as you pulled it over your head, Shigaraki tried to keep his panting breaths quiet.

The very second that Shigaraki spotted that you couldn’t immediately find the strings at the back of the apron, his feet were moving of their accord, until he was standing right behind you. If he moved just an inch forward, he realized hungrily, he could graze your bare skin.

“Here, let me,” he rasped.

As he took the apron strings in his hands, Shigaraki leaned forward slightly, taking the chance to breathe in your scent while no one was around to stop him. Fuck, he thought as he bit back a moan, you smelled so good. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to just go ahead and bury his face in your hair, in your neck, where he could drown in your scent. Barely holding himself back, Shigaraki tied the apron for you, his hands trembling from the urge to pull you back against him. When he tied the bow though, he took a small step forward, a shuffle small enough to seem like his was only adjusting his footing. But that small movement brought him close enough to you so that his groin just barely brushed against your ass. Licking his lips at the touch, Shigaraki felt his nerves shudder in a truly delicious way at just how good it felt to have you against him, how right it felt.

“Uh, thanks, Shigaraki,” you said. The confusion in your voice was enough to have Shigaraki smirking, so clearly could he see the thoughts flashing by in your mind. Was Shigaraki trying to make a move on you? Would he really do that to Spinner? Or were you just overreacting? He didn’t have the most practiced social skills, after all, so he could have just genuinely been trying to help. And that touch was probably just an accident, right?

“Call me Tomura,” Shigaraki replied, his voice soft enough to obscure the order hidden there.

“Oh, um, that’s—”

“C’mon,” he chuckled forcibly, “we’re friends, right? It’s stupid for you to keep calling me Shigaraki.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Okay…?”

“Okay, Tomura,” you answered with just the slightest bit of hesitation.

“See,” Shigaraki said as he finally stepped away, “isn’t that better?”

Not bothering to wait for your answer, Shigaraki went back to his chair at the kitchen counter, picking his handheld back up. The whole time that you were making the rice though, he continued to sneak peeks at you when you weren’t looking. With it only being the two of you in the apartment, Shigaraki soon found himself lost in fantasies. What if you were his girlfriend, he imagined, dutifully making him a homecooked meal after his hard day at work. What if you had gotten all dressed up for him, picking out that inviting dress and cute apron all so he would have something nice to look at when he got home. What if you were just waiting for him to tear off those temptingly fragile scraps of clothing and fuck you on the kitchen counter.

So lost was Shigaraki in his fantasies that he almost didn’t hear the apartment door begin to open, signaling that Spinner had made it home at last. While you tossed off your apron and made your way towards the door, Shigaraki took that as his cue to head back to his bedroom. For as much as his body screamed at him to stay as close to you as possible, he didn’t think he could handle seeing you act all disgustingly gooey with Spinner when he was the only one who deserved your affection. But he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing your apron from the corner you had shoved it in and taking it with him into his bedroom. He might not be able to have you yet, Shigaraki smirked, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t satisfy him in other ways.

Part Two

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